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"You could've been seriously hurt," he murmured, his voice low, but there was a sharpness to it. His proximity, the way he towered over me, made the air between us crackle. "I'm fine," I snapped, refusing to show weakness. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. But he wasn't listening. His hand came up, his thumb brushing the corner of my jaw, sending an unexpected thrill through my body. "Next time, you'll listen to me." His touch lingered for just a moment too long before he pulled back, leaving me breathless and utterly confused. I could feel the heat of his skin, the tension rolling off him in waves. Hate. That's what I should feel. That's what I wanted to feel. But as his dark eyes bore into mine, it was something else entirely. And I hated myself for it.
Claire's POV:
The house was way too quiet. The kind of quiet that felt loud in my ears, buzzing under my skin like a warning. Dad was home. And he was drunk again.
I tiptoed down the hallway, knowing the exact spots to avoid so the floor wouldn't creak. I'd learned that over the years-the art of moving silently in my own house. The clock on the wall said I was already late for work, but who cared? I had bigger problems.
I spotted the empty bottle first. Lying on its side, like a clue that something had gone wrong. My stomach twisted as my eyes landed on the shattered glass next to it. Great. Another mess, another reminder of last night's chaos.
I bent down to pick up the larger shards, careful not to cut myself. Cleaning up after him had become part of my morning routine-like brushing my teeth or grabbing my backpack. Except, instead of toothpaste, I got broken glass and spilled beer.
My hands shook as I grabbed the broom. Each swipe of the bristles on the floor echoed in the silence, making the house feel even emptier. I hated this. The constant fear. The pretending. How I had to make sure no one knew the truth because people wouldn't get it. They'd never understand.
I could still remember when he wasn't like this-back when I was younger and he actually smiled. But those days felt like a different lifetime. Now it was just me and him, the drunk version, who never smiled, never laughed. Just yelled, broke things, and passed out.
A groan from down the hall made my heart leap to my throat. Crap. He was awake.
I glanced at the clock again. I still had time. If I moved fast enough, I could get out before-
"Claire."
Too late. I froze, the door handle cool in my grip. My pulse thudded in my ears, drowning out everything else. His voice was rough, the kind of rough that came from too many late nights and too many beers. I didn't turn around, hoping if I stayed still long enough, he'd just let me go.
"I love you, you know that, right?" His words were slurred, barely coherent.
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the wave of emotions threatening to drown me. He always said this-only after a few too many beers, when he could barely stand. Like the words meant something when he was this far gone.
I should say something. I should turn around, face him, and tell him how much I needed him to actually mean it. Sober. But what was the point? We'd been through this too many times, and I was too tired to fight today.
My hand tightened on the door handle as I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Yeah," I muttered, not even sure if he could hear me.
For a second, I wondered if I should do more. Maybe say goodbye properly or look him in the eye and make sure he knew how much it hurt to hear those words like that. But then I remembered the last time I tried to talk to him-really talk to him. The black eye I had for a week. The silence that stretched on after, like the distance between us could never be fixed.
I couldn't do it again. Not today.
Before I left, I opened my purse and fished out a few crumpled bills. The same ones I'd been setting aside for groceries. I hesitated for a moment, staring at them in my hand, knowing full well what they'd be used for. There was no food in the house, but the money wouldn't go toward that. It never did.
I placed the bills next to the empty cereal box on the counter, a bitter taste rising in my throat. It felt like I was enabling him, feeding the cycle, but what choice did I have? He'd find a way to get his beer, with or without my help. At least this way, I wouldn't come home to more broken glass or worse.
I nodded, once, even though he couldn't see me. Then I stepped outside, letting the cool morning air wash over me. One more day, one more step away from the mess I couldn't clean up anymore.
On her wedding day, Khloe’s sister connived with her groom, framing her for a crime she didn’t commit. She was sentenced to three years in prison, where she endured much suffering. When Khloe was finally released, her evil sister used their mother to coerce Khloe into an indecent liaison with an elderly man. As fate would have it, Khloe crossed paths with Henrik, the dashing yet ruthless mobster who sought to alter the course of her life. Despite Henrik’s cold exterior, he cherished Khloe like no other. He helped her take retribution from her tormentors and kept her from being bullied again.
Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, “Do you think you deserve it?” Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, “Marry me?”
Janet was adopted when she was a kid -- a dream come true for orphans. However, her life was anything but happy. Her adoptive mother taunted and bullied her all her life. Janet got the love and affection of a parent from the old maid who raised her. Unfortunately, the old woman fell ill, and Janet had to marry a worthless man in place of her parents' biological daughter to meet the maid's medical expenses. Could this be a Cinderella's tale? But the man was far from a prince, except for his handsome appearance. Ethan was the illegitimate son of a wealthy family who lived a reckless life and barely made ends meet. He got married to fulfill his mother's last wish. However, on his wedding night, he had an inkling that his wife was different from what he had heard about her. Fate had united the two people with deep secrets. Was Ethan truly the man we thought he was? Surprisingly, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the impenetrable wealthiest man in the city. Would he find out that Janet married him in place of her sister? Would their marriage be a romantic tale or an utter disaster? Read on to unravel Janet and Ethan's journey.
After three secretive years of marriage, Eliana never met her enigmatic husband until she was served with divorce papers and learned of his extravagant pursuit of another. She snapped back to reality and secured a divorce. Thereafter, Eliana unveiled her various personas: an esteemed doctor, legendary secret agent, master hacker, celebrated designer, adept race car driver, and distinguished scientist. As her diverse talents became known, her ex-husband was consumed by remorse. Desperately, he pleaded, "Eliana, give me another chance! All my properties, even my life, are yours."
Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."
Sawyer, the world's top arms dealer, stunned everyone by falling for Maren—the worthless girl no one respected. People scoffed. Why chase a useless pretty face? But when powerful elites began gathering around her, jaws dropped. "She's not even married to him yet—already cashing in on his power?" they assumed. Curious eyes dug into Maren's past... only to find she was a scientific genius, a world-renowned medical expert, and heiress to a mafia empire. Later, Sawyer posted online. "My wife treats me like the enemy. Any advice?"