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I need to be meek, obedient, silent being me is volatile. Me and my mom shouldn't co exist with one another we're to explosive to handle too scheming to unravel, welcome to my world!
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Chapter 3
My hidden carefree days was somewhat numbered, everytime I saw his overbearing self, he's like a walking calendar, my dammed alarm clock, that always give me a rude awakening about my value in his standard.
He's the countdown to my damnation and I need to play my card so well, or I'll be doomed. He doesn't veiled his intention, never put any filter or rose colored glasses in front of us, even with anyone, he simply doesn't care, he served it so straightforward that it gives me chills down to my soul.
Now I'm unraveling after his tactics, his moves, he's so dammed poker faced about it. Every encounter is a chance for me to mapped little by little the ways of his devious mind.
And he's here again, confidently lounging in one of mom's prized chintz chair, where even a speck of dust will earned a gruesome stare from her.
Without directly looking at him, I can feel his vindictive stare.
I descend the simple staircase of our villa.
Mom's face light up, approving my modest and up to date ensemble, with a little rise of her well shaped left eyebrow, a signal for me to behave, and to zip my mouth.
" I'm glad you grace me with your youthful charm Portia." An engrossed expression never left his face with an underlying vindictiveness.
I just tilt my head a little to the left to welcome his presence.
" You're so pensive today, must be the weather-"
Am I Mia's daughter or what? That hang sentence again, goading my patience to wear and probably going thinner, but the sudden quirked of my mom's right eyebrow prompt me to reply oh so courteously!
" I'm good SIR, never been better."
I directed my not so innocent glance with mom,
" I need to go, my ballet class will start soon, it's just across the street, mom, can I excused myself?"
The smile, how I hate his smile! So foxy, so sly!
Did he think he won this round, summoning me in my father's house like a pauper. I'll get even. I saw how conflicted my mother at that moment. One thing she can't forego is for her hard earned money to be wasted, and ditching a ballet lesson is a great no no in her vocabulary.
" I'm sorry Sir Renoir, you came in unfortunate time."
I simply half closed my eyes when I heard her heartfelt sorry. Savoring my small win, it's hard to come by, might as well enjoy and basking in this bit of glory.
I half turned my face towards her direction and saw how coquettishly she dabs the corner of her lips with her ever handy flowery laced hankie.
For Pete's sake! Please delivered me from this cloying situation.
With a little wave of her hankie, I alighted with great alacricity. I directly look at Sir Renoir's eyes, not missing his condescending stance.
" Thank you SIR Renoir, for gracing our humble abode. Im so thankful for your benevolent time, I hope it doesn't hinder your other endeavors. " I poetically stated. Dammed that snide smile always directing at me.
" Youth has its own merits and demirits, I believe you chose the right one, my Ever dearest Portia."
He sarcastically replied getting even with my rhetoric.
" Of course SIR Renoir I am my mother's daughter after all. " I smiled frostily gracefully peck at my mother's left cheek to signal my departure.
" Let me walk you out Sir Renoir, to finalize our meeting this day."
That had me stiffen my already stiff posture.
Mom really had a way to convey her message loud and clear without begging nor shouting at me. I salute her, so dearly. One day I'll have her mantra and the eye of my own hurricane.Head high, I continued going out, while they both observed my disposition within that split second I dawdle in the threshold.
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8.7
Five years ago, I was the invisible scholarship charity case at an elite Manhattan prep school, trying to survive in a sea of trust-fund babies.
Arlo Hammond, the untouchable billionaire heir, made sure to completely dismantle my soul.
When his wealthy friends asked if he noticed me, his mocking laughter echoed down the hallway.
"Are you out of your mind? You seriously think I'd be interested in a boring little nerd like her?"
But the moment we were alone, he would corner me in dark alleys, pinning my wrists against brick walls with terrifying, possessive jealousy if my phone even buzzed. He played his twisted games until I was left standing in the rain with my shattered dignity.
Now, I am an Assistant District Attorney. I spent years burying those memories under mountains of legal files.
But tonight, he returned.
When we crossed paths at an exclusive club, he looked at me with the cool detachment he'd give a piece of furniture. In front of a crowd of elites, he coldly declared:
"We have absolutely nothing to do with each other anymore."
Then he walked away to pick up a supermodel, leaving me trembling from the sheer humiliation.
I didn't understand. If I was so worthless to him, why did he still have my birthday tattooed in dark ink on his wrist? Why did he look at me with such raw, painful vulnerability in the shadows?
I stared at my pale reflection in the mirror and made a silent vow.
I am not that pathetic seventeen-year-old anymore, and I will prove to him that I am completely, entirely over him.
8.4
Hard to Love
8.4
Before the college entrance exam, Shi Sui was forced to move in with her father's friend's family, where she met their son, Yan Tingli.
At that time, the young man stood on the stairs in a black turtleneck sweater, his entire presence cold and desolate, looking at her as if she were nothing.
He seemed not to recognize her, but Shi Sui knew Yan Tingli. He was refined and handsome, the school's famous honor student, liked by countless girls.
She never imagined that behind closed doors, even a good student would shed his outer skin and devour people without spitting out bones.
"I want to kiss you."
"I don't want to."
"Be good, open the door now."
Yan Tingli was sick.
So during college, Shi Sui quietly applied for an overseas exchange, fleeing far away.
She was afraid.
Several years later, Shi Sui returned to the country. At a dinner gathering between their parents, she saw Yan Tingli again.
He was unsurprisingly excellent-CEO of a listed company, at the height of his success, treating her like a stranger, as if the past had long become like passing clouds.
When asked about their relationship by former classmates, Yan Tingli only said indifferently: "Not very familiar."
Who knew that not long after, it was just being given a ride by a male colleague.
That very night, a whole night of absurdity.
When she couldn't bear it and cried out, she heard his low murmur by her ear, his voice trembling with pleasure:
"Sui Sui, you've made me search so hard all these years."
"Finally caught you."
Timid, gentle sister × Refined scoundrel
As the synopsis shows, the male lead has a very strong possessive desire, is quite crazy, and good at disguising himself, but is a love-brain.
The author's preferences exploded, and they just wanted to write some scoundrel content. Please be gentle.
Highlight: Those with high moral requirements for the male lead should not enter.
7.0
Five years. Four hundred million dollars. And the wedding dress was never mine.
I found out on a Tuesday—a C-list actress draped in my custom Vera Wang, hanging off my fiancé's arm. Six months of French lace. Six meters of Italian silk. Every stitch a promise I had made to myself: someone finally chose me for me.
He locked the doors of that boutique. Froze my cards. Threatened my friends. Told the world I was just a delusional former assistant who didn't know her place.
The internet called me crazy, a liar, a desperate woman who couldn't take a hint. His name trended everywhere. My accounts got suspended before I could say a word.
What he never knew: his empire ran on my capital. His patents were mine. His executive assistant had been feeding me evidence for months—emails, recordings, a paper trail of fraud stretching back years.
I dialed the encrypted phone. A voice said, "I've waited five years."
"Then wait three more days," I said. "I'm going to tear his head off."
7.3
Lukas Reiner built his life based off a promise 9 years ago with Viktor Volkov... the only person who actually saw him and knew him for what he actually was. They dreamed of the same future, the same ice, the same victory together. Until Viktor disappeared without a word, leaving Lukas behind with nothing but silence, rain... and feelings he never got to confess.
Now, Lukas is at the top of college... Captain, prodigy and untouchable on ice until Viktor comes back.
Colder and older, acting like the past never existed.
Their reunion explodes into violence, but being forced to work together drags them into something far more dangerous than hate.
The tension turns into stolen moments and those moments turn into a habit but before either of them can stop it, the line between resentment and desire begins to blur.
Lukas never let go of the past.
Viktor never planned to face it.
But on the ice, there's nowhere left to run.
7.3
The sound of loud slapping windows jolted her from her sleep. She carefully got down from the bed, walking towards the window to shut it closed.
She froze instantly, turning cold with fear at the familiar figure standing right outside her window.
She staggered backwards. "No," she shook her head in disbelief, but that didn't stop him from jumping through her window.
She ran for the door, desperately trying to unlock it, but it wasn't even budging. Her heart raced in her chest, her palms clammy, and then she felt his large presence behind her, slamming his hand on the door right beside her head.
She slowly turned to find those cold gray eyes staring at her.
She trembled. "H-how did you f-find me?"
A sinister smirk suddenly appeared on his lips, his eyes shining with an evil glint.
"Didn't I tell you, Lilian? You run, I chase."
His hand shot to her throat, his thumb caressing it gently, and then he covered the distance between them, leaning in for his hot breath to fan her neck.
His hand held her small waist, pulling her impossibly closer to himself.
"Now you must be punished, princess."
In a bid to escape her cold husband and her cruel family, Lilian finds herself in an even more dangerous situation that either mends or breaks her.
9.2
"I have a doctor's appointment Thursday," Lily heard herself say. "Nine AM. Midtown Medical Center."
It wasn't an invitation. Not exactly. But it wasn't a rejection either.
Jasper's throat worked. "I'll be there."
"Don't-" She stopped, reconsidered. "Don't come if you're going to treat it like a business meeting. Don't come if you're going to bring contracts or lawyers or-"
"I'll come as your..." He hesitated, searching for the word. "As someone who cares what happens in that room."
The lawyer cleared his throat softly, a reminder of the unsigned documents between them.