OWNED IN THE DARK
After losing both her parents at a tender age, Ciara experiences coldness despite having her best friend Carlista whose parents chose to raise her, she faces several oppositions from extended family and even outside pressure as a result of her inherited wealth; she falls in love with her best friend's brother who refuses to acknowledge their relationship to the public.
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Chapter 5
CIARA
Maggie's eyes narrowed as she took in our dishevelled state-mud-caked shoes, rain-soaked clothes, and the undeniable scent of sex clinging to us like a second skin. I instinctively stepped back, crossing my arms over my chest as if that could hide the evidence of our encounter.
"Well, isn't this cosy?" Maggie's voice dripped with venom as she smoothed her designer dress, looking utterly out of place in the chaos we'd created. "Matthew darling, you've been playing in the rain without me. Trust you had fun? Hello Ciara"
"Maggie, what are you doing here?" Mathew's voice was tight, and I could see the muscle working in his jaw.
She laughed-a cold, calculated sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I came to check on you after the storm but it seems I interrupted something... intimate." Her gaze flickered to me as she walked towards me "You're soaked darling should I be concerned?"
"Watch your mouth," Mathew warned, stepping between us. "Ciara's not-"
"She's exactly what she looks like," Maggie interrupted, circling us slowly. "The orphaned little rich girl who thinks she can squish her way into our relationship. Do you really think he'd choose you over me?" She stopped before me, her face inches from mine. "If there's anything between you two, he'd use you for his amusement, Ciara. Nothing more."
I wanted to slap her, but Carlista's footsteps approaching from the hallway stopped me.
"Maggie! What a surprise!" Carlista's voice was falsely cheerful as she entered the room. "I didn't know you were stopping by."
Maggie's expression transformed instantly into one of sweet innocence. "Just checking on my fiancé after that dreadful storm." She looped her arm through Mathew's, her nails digging into his bicep. "We were just having a little chat with your... friend."
Carlista's eyes widened slightly as she took in the scene, but she recovered quickly. "Ciara was a bit down when she came over but she decided to work in the garden and got caught in the rain."
"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Maggie's laugh was sharp as glass. "Well, I should be going. Matthew, we need to discuss our honeymoon arrangements." She kissed his cheek deliberately, her eyes never leaving mine. "Try not to get muddy again without me."
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving silence thick enough to choke on.
"I'm going to kill her," Carlista muttered, turning to face us fully. "What the hell was that about?"
Mathew ran a hand through his wet hair. "She's just being Maggie."
"No, she was a mean bitch who was unnecessarily disrespectful for no reason at all."
Carlista's gaze shifted between us. " I'm sorry this happened Ciara but do I need to be concerned girl?"
"Carlista, absolutely not-"
"Don't you dare lie to me," she snapped, pointing a finger at Mathew. "I don't know what's happened but keep your fiancées evil eye off my best friend."
"Yes ma'am." Mathew chuckled "You're so protective, won't you also protect me?"
I felt tears pricking the corners of my eyes and turned away. "I need to have a bath and change my clothing, please excuse me."
Carlista approached me, her expression softening. "Ciara, I'm sorry. I had no idea this was going on." She hugged me tightly. "I know my brother has been an absolute nightmare to you.'
I pulled back, wiping my eyes. "I'm fine Carlista thank you."
I walked away and moved to my room then into the bathroom and soaked in a hot bath when I felt his presence before he even spoke "I love you Ciara, you know I do."
"Then why her?" I demanded, my voice cracking. "Why propose to her if you love me?"
"For the investigation," he said quietly. "Her family's involved in my brother's death. I needed to get close to them."
I scoffed. "Then investigate all you want but leave me out of your damned mess."
"I'd solve it soon babe. I swear I will."
The door handle rattled, making me jump.
I tried to stand but Mathew took my hand. "We need to talk about the baby, Ciara. And our future."
I shook my head. "There is no our future, Mathew. Not like this."
I pushed him away and wore my robe as I moved outside the door and found Carlista waiting with a package "This came in for you Ciara."
I took it, my hands trembling as I tore it open. Inside was a photo of me, obviously pregnant, walking outside the university. Below it, typed words chilled me to the bone:
We know about the baby. And we know it's not the only secret you're keeping. Come alone to the old warehouse at Docklands tomorrow at noon if you want to protect what's yours. I thanked Carlista and quickly walked back into the room.
Mathew peered over my shoulder. "What is it?"
I folded the letter quickly. "Nothing important."
His eyes narrowed. "Ciara, don't lie to me. Not now."
"Like you haven't been lying to me?" I snapped back. "I need to go home."
I didn't wait for a response, grabbing my bag and heading for the door, my heart racing with fear I hadn't felt since the night I learned my parents were gone. Someone knew about the baby and they weren't afraid to use it against me.
The door to the room opened after a while and I almost screamed as Carlista eyed me suspiciously "Why are you so jumpy Ciara?" I exhaled as I tried calming my unsteady heart. "I'm fine....I was just lost in thought."
She nodded. "Get dressed babe. Matthew has a big fight tonight, let's go watch."
I chuckled "You don't even like watching him fight Carlista so why are we even going there?"
She shrugged nonchalantly as she moved to the wardrobe and brought out a short black micro mini shirt and tank top with black boots replicating exactly what she wore. "This idiot has been making all sorts of idle noise and I'd just take so much pleasure in Matthew beating him to a pulp plus you look like someone who needs to be cheered up.
I laugh as I changed and we both move out. Matthew left a while ago. As we climbed into the car, my phone alerted me for a message "You can't hide forever Ciara....leave him alone if you don't want to be dead." I shivered uncontrollably.
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7.6
The heavy prison gates clanged shut, ending three years. I scanned the empty lot for Julian, my fiancé. Deserted.
Biting December wind my only welcome. Calls to Julian, father, mother: unanswered/disconnected.
Shivering, Julian's tracker showed an unfamiliar Long Island estate. A freezing cab left me penniless; I walked through the blizzard. Through a mansion window, I saw Julian, my stepsister Clara, a small boy—a perfect family. Julian, who hated children, doted on him, and Clara wore *my* engagement ring.
I overheard Julian's call: he, my father, conspired to frame me for Clara’s medical error, saving their company and future. My family hadn't just abandoned me; they plotted my destruction.
A delayed text from Julian popped up, lying about a "cross-border meeting," promising to pick me up tomorrow. Despair vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying smile. Typing "Understood," I turned from their stolen life, walking into the blizzard, fueled by burning rage.
8.3
Ayleen Ramirez sat in the sterile Hope Hill Fertility Clinic, her heart shattering as Dr. Finch delivered the crushing news: her third IVF cycle had failed.
Eavesdropping outside a supply closet, she overheard her husband Don on the phone, laughing cruelly. "She's a defective incubator," he sneered to his mistress Alessandra. "I never used my sperm—just cheap bank donation. No trailer trash carries a Bradley heir."
Betrayed, Ayleen confronted him, but her adoptive family ambushed her at home. Her parents and brother sided with Alessandra, now pregnant by Don, demanding Ayleen sign divorce papers to secure family investments. "You're an embarrassment," her mother snapped, threatening to cut her trust fund. Ayleen tossed back their heirloom necklace and walked out.
She stormed the Bradley mansion, slapped divorce papers on Don, packed her bags amid his aunt's insults, and fled into the night.
Drunk in a trendy bar, she stumbled into a powerful stranger—Burdette Guerrero—spilling whiskey on his crotch, then accidentally grabbed a napkin to his trousers. He shoved her away in rage.
Worse, she mistook his penthouse suite for her hotel room, bursting in on his shower, smashing a mirror in panic. He pinned her to the wall, snarling accusations.
How did this arrogant man know her name? Why demand she sign a mysterious contract at 9 a.m.? Devastated and clueless she's actually pregnant—with his stolen heir—Ayleen sobbed alone, the world crumbling.
The next morning, she straightened her spine in the Grand Guerrero lobby, ready to face him and demand answers—no matter the cost.
7.2
I thought I was just marrying a middle-class commercial pilot who proposed to me in a Brooklyn cemetery to fulfill his grandmother's bizarre dying wish.
But when an arrogant pilot tried to harass me at the airport, my "ordinary" husband suddenly appeared, his eyes like chips of ice.
"Take your hand off my wife."
With that single cold command, he had the airline's top executives groveling and the man practically fired on the spot.
Everyone called him "Mr. Chandler." He handed me an exclusive black Centurion card, claiming it was just a standard "manager's perk." His retired parents, who supposedly ran a small business, visited me wearing Patek Philippe watches. I ignored all the glaring red flags, foolishly believing I had just lucked into a stable, caring marriage after a lifetime of disappointments.
Yet, despite his constant, suffocating generosity, he kept a physical wall between us. After a kiss so desperate and hungry it felt like he had been starving for it his entire life, he violently pushed me away.
"We should take this slow."
I couldn't understand why a man who looked at me with such intense, possessive devotion would treat our marriage like a sterile business deal. Why was he orchestrating every perfect detail of my life while refusing to even share a bed with me?
I had no idea that the man sleeping in the guest room wasn't a pilot at all. He was Harmon Chandler, the ruthless billionaire emperor of the Chandler Group. And he had been secretly monitoring my every move for ten years.
8.0
Eight years of devotion crumbled under one calculated betrayal.
Diagnosed with a terminal illness and given only a year, Olivia faced heartbreak when her husband cheated with a student she had sponsored and asked for divorce.
"She only has a year to live... can't you let her have this?" he pleaded, unaware Olivia hid the same fate.
Without protest, she signed and returned to science, determined to leave something behind.
Believing they'd reunite, he waited-never knowing she was running out of time.
During a clinical trial, she burned through her final days.
Only after her death did he learn the truth, collapsing in regret. "Olivia... I was wrong."
9.5
My husband, Colton, the Wall Street mogul, slid annulment papers across the table, coldly discarding me and our unborn child. He thought he was getting rid of a useless wife, but he was actually throwing away the secret architect of his entire empire. Now, I'm ready to make him pay for every insult, every lie, and every single secret I've kept.
For three years, eight months pregnant, I secretly saved Colton's ten-billion-dollar company from collapse, enduring a cold, transactional marriage.
One night, he shattered that illusion, serving annulment papers and callously discarding me and our unborn child.
I signed, leaving luxury behind. Exposing his butler's fraud, I escaped. Colton later found his wedding ring gone and, on his desk, my SEC compliance fixes—proof I was his hidden genius.
Blindsided, he realized he’d destroyed his own empire. His mother then called, gloating. The injustice ignited a fierce resolve within me.
The next morning, I launched Kidd Legal Consulting. I'd use forty-seven folders of Farmer Capital's un-patched loopholes to force a fair settlement, securing my daughter's future.
9.3
After eight years in captivity, I was finally rescued. I thought it was the beginning of a new life with my mother.
But she didn't even look at me. She ran into the arms of a handsome stranger, her real husband, and I was treated like a dirty secret from her past.
They called me a contamination, a reminder of their trauma. My new stepsister set their Doberman on me, and as the dog's teeth sank into my arm, I looked up and saw my mother watching from the window.
She met my eyes for a second, then slowly closed the curtains.
In that moment, the last bit of hope I had died. The shallow bond of family was completely gone, and I finally gave up.
But they made one mistake. The family patriarch, suspicious after a car accident, ordered a secret DNA test.
The results came back on the day of my stepsister's birthday party, revealing a truth that would burn their perfect world to the ground.