"Who are you?" I ask, gawking at this ugly man who looks like the devil himself. "Your savior." savior? I may not remember anything from my past, but one thing is for sure, according to my judgment: this monster-lookalike can't be a savior. And from whom did he supposedly save me? "And if you are done ogling me, now, on your knees! Time to serve the purpose for which I saved you." I am snapped out of my thoughts by him tearing his shirt and walking closer in a pretty unnerving way. Cold shivers jolted down my spine, almost paralyzing my entire being. "Whi...ch is?" I whimper, trying to stand up from the bed and perhaps run for my dear life. Unfortunately, he grabs me viciously before I can take a step. A loud growl slips from my lips as he slams me back on the bed and hovers atop me. "To please me, little dove." He hoarses, embarking on his evil, dirty mission.
I mutter a hundred condemnations as I jerk myself up to sit on the bed, my eyes battling to peel due to the throbbing of my head. The pain is excruciatingly agonizing, and for minutes I have to keep it caged between my palms for support. Aside from the pain, my hands feel something else. A bandage?! I can also feel a soaked spot on my forehead as I run my hands around my head.
Am I hurt? How?
What the heck happened?
A long moment of screaming silence passes as I scour deep into my seemingly desolate brain for an inkling of what led to this, but all ends in vain. Nothing rings a bell! Nothing! I feel like my head is just blank. Sigh! It must be this pain that is deterring my head from functioning. I should call for some aid. Some damn painkillers will be helpful before this pain kills me.
Ahem! Who do I call? No name seems to come to mind either. Screw this pain! With all these incoherently fussy feelings, I compel my eyes to peel, despite the pain. A dark-themed cabin greets my blurry vision, and again, I suck in the ripping sensation of obliviousness to this place too. It feels weird. I dart my eyes around the small, unnerving cottage, scanning for anything that would slap some sense into me about what this place is because it definitely doesn't feel like my room, but I end up adding more pain to myself because nothing reminds me of anything here. There isn't anything much here anyway.
Come on, dear brain! Don't do this to me.
I kick the duvet aside and spring from the bed. Imprinting my feet on the cold floor, I drag myself to the tiny closet and decide to rummage for something. Maybe a phone or something. What kind of room is this that is giving rise to these weird chills? And who the hell paints a room black? A witch, maybe! I hope I didn't wake up in their realm!
The apparel in this closet gram my level of confusion. I'm decently dressed up in smart jeans and a classy leather jacket. The Under Armour sneakers top my expensive outfit. Dashing and descent Then why the hell are lingeries more than three-quarters of the outfits in this closet? And for the rest of the quarter, it's no different from lingerie. Just some freaking short sh*t of dresses that won't cover even my forbidden areas well. What's not happening? Scouring the drawers would be a nice idea, but a peek outside this room is a wiser idea.
One, two steps later, the door opens, halting my tracks. A giant in human form strolls inside, amplifying my turmoil and aggravating the terror in this room. His demeanor is not just perilously terrifying and demeaning, but it, in addition, exudes havoc to a weak being like the one cowering before his tall, huge frame. And gray eyes? Really? I pluck my feet from the floor and take safe steps back towards the bed, while he takes slow, calculated strides towards me like a lion taming its prey! He won't just devour my flesh, but it seems like he would chew even my bones one by one. I missed the bed and hit the wall with my back. I didn't look where I was going. My bad! He halts on his strides a step from me, his hands shoved in his pocket, and he takes his time to browse my face. He is the stranger here, yet I seem to bewilder him more than he is perplexing me. His cold gaze in my eyes makes me tremble with fear, and these huge muscles aren't helping either.
I can't stand his eyes! I look away, taking in deep breaths to calm my nerves. "Step away, please!" I mumble after a while, puffing out a good amount of the fear boiling inside of me. That would have calmed me down, but not when he does the exact opposite of what I asked. He closes the gap between us, towering above me. He is so irritating! I snap my gaze at him.
"Why?" His tone is as cold as his demeanor. It bleeds nothing but hegemony. Dominance. Power. Why? Who is he to even pin me to the wall like this? My husband? Holly cow! I hope not!
"Who are you to begin with? And...this place, what is this place?" I force words, and his ghastly face grows wrinkles in a flicker, but he masks them off with his cold expression in a split second. Don't get me wrong. I don't know how many handsome men I have encountered before, but this one is before me with the eyes like an owl, naah men! If he is this scary in broad daylight, I don't want to deduce the kind of terror that he bleeds when darkness befalls.
Ghosh! He takes a step back, permeating some fresh air into me, which is still saturated with his rich pheromones, which again, I don't like. "Don't you...remember anything?" His icy voice echoes again, making me realize that my eyes are glued to his. He has quite scary eyes! Is he even human? I think as I shake my head at his question, avoiding wasting even a second of his time pondering it. He seems to be the kind who would slap the hell out of you if you get on his nerves. Or even at a slight mistake. I might be right or wrong, but that's what I make out of his demeanor. "Does it hurt a lot?" He asks, pointing at my head as he walks to the drawer.
He pulls out some medicine and a bottle of water. "What happened to me? Where am I? Who...are you?" I ask again, but he instead ignores my question and hands me some pills.
"For your headache!" I take them and rack before him after. He can't ignore me like this, for hell's sake! I need answers before I go crazy! "Take two pills every three hours to avoid severe pain." He says, Emotionless. Something is whispering to my ears that something is wrong here.
"Copy. Now, can you answer my questions? Did you hear them? Do I need to repeat them again?" I ask, sounding damn serious, while his gray eyes are darkening with fury. He is getting angry. Shouldn't I be the one getting angry at his arrogance?
"Get some rest! We will talk when you are calm." He says this and clicks his Chelsea boots on the floor, ready to stroll out.
This arrogant jerk is really messing with my patience! "Hold on right there, Mr!" I call, and he furiously turns to me. "Why can't you answer my questions, huh?"
"And why the fuck do you think I have the answers to your fucking questions?" He fumes, his eyes explaining just how pissed off he is. But hang on!
"Because you happen to be the first creature I saw since I woke up with a very freaking blank mind! You even have the prescriptions for my medications so clearly, Mr. Grey Eyes; you have the answers I need. So, speak!" I howl, and the howls echo in my head, the impacts of them aggregating the pain. I really need to take it easy before my head explodes!
He smirks! A cold smirk that makes the hairs on my body spurt with rage What's there to smirk about if he isn't just an arrogant, insensitive jerk? "Nobody. Listen well, because I won't repeat myself ever again. No one orders me around!" He states.
"It's only right and fair for me to react like this. Are you hiding something that you don't want me to know..."
"Watch your fucking tongue!" Now he really scared me with his howls.
"I will! After you tell me what I need to hear!" I must be a very stubborn ass to have the balls to talk back to him, albeit trembling. The outbursts stopped for a minute. We rack before each other, like two antagonistic lions ready to slit each other's throats with our fangs. We are both fuming with rage, and he backs off first, breaking the tension in this room.
"You really don't recall anything?" He softly but coldly asks, boring his scary eyes deep into me, perhaps scouring for the truth.
"I wouldn't be wasting both our time if I did. So, tell me. Who are you?" I spit, and then something more urgent hits me. "Who am I?" I ask bitterly, almost breaking down, but I suck the tears back. I can't even freaking remember my damn name. What on earth wrecked my brain like this?
"Listen. Your stubbornness aside, If you continue howling like this, your empty brain might rapture. Lie down, and I will answer your questions when you wake up." Oh, the ugly idiot even has the balls to mock me? Wow!
"No! I want them now, so you better start..."
"If you open your mouth again and order me like I am your slave, I'll forget that you are already hurt." He warns.
slave? Then am I his slave?
"Neither am I your slave!" I yell again, and he smirks, speaking as calmly as he can ever be.
"You don't know that, and you are in my territory! And everyone in my territory is my slave including you. so, behave, because I have had it with your arrogance." He says, looking so pissed.
Cool down, dear lost self! And ignore that slave nonsense from this ugly-fugly monkey. You don't know where you are, so if you need anything from this impossible, egotistical moron, you have to humble yourself. Take it slow with him.
"Okay. I'm sorry if I am acting up. I hope you understand my situation. So, please, I beg you, tell me just anything about me before I go crazy." I plead.
"Mmh! I thought I would teach you how to talk to your master, but I guess you understood my gestures well. However, I still think you need some rest. I am not usually this nice to people, so I would suggest you grab this chance and not get... on...my... nerve!" He says.
Master!? Master of what? "Please, Master?" I plead, and yuck! Master my foot! It sounds so... pathetic? Yeah, and disgusting! "Please! Just anything. Even just one. It will make me at least get some sleep."
"I saved you, Gia! That's all I will say for now! Now show some respect to someone who saved your life and get on that bed before I lose it."
Gia?!?! I presume that is my name? Freaking hell! Why doesn't even my own name sound familiar? The hell! And from whom did he save me? I am being tuck under the covers as I think. Everything is just so confusing, and him refusing to tell me the whole truth just sucks! I hope he will not be in his 'master' mood when I wake up.
"Don't think too much! It will help speed up your recovery." He says this after tucking me in. As if he cares!
"And who are you? Can I at least know the name of my savior?" I ask before I close my eyes.
"They call me Don! But you can call me Ejay!"
Don? Master? Ejay? What is he? Better still, who the hell is he?
"You are a cold-blooded psycho! Get your filthy-blood-stained hands off me!" Through clenched teeth, Irma shrieked as she battled to liberate herself from the man's barbarous hold. His eyes were a refulgent inferno. They held an insidious fire of lust as they thrived deeper into her debilitated ones. "How flattering!" The man sneered, and Irma froze. A ripple of both ice and fire skint in her nerves at the man's vexatious riposte. Before she could amass any little bravery left in her, the man spoke again in a hoarse tremor, erupting a chill down her spinal tube. "But if you don't watch your sweet-dirty-mouth, you snoopy, pesky brat, my third leg will shut it for you! Or maybe," he wavered, and fixed his dangerous lascivious gazes on hers, gently stroking her hair as if petting his sweet wild pet, "Is that what you want, huh, little kitten?" A freelance journalist, flaming with ardent desires to unveil the secrets behind the series of mysterious disappearances happening in the city. Her hunch points her to the dark underworld of the mafia and unfortunately, she crashes with LUCCA DE'MATTHEW - the other name for terror! Their encounter will evoke a catastrophe that only they can solve. But how, if their mere beingness is a menace to each other?
"What if I tell you that you can actually, live that dream?" Ethan said softly, his voice taking on a gentler tone as he swept his hand on her shoulder. She tensed, everything in her body responding to him in ways she had always dreamed of. But it was so wrong for her to even dare to dream about her boss like that. "You crave for your boss? Wish Granted. You can have me," his words resonated with so much assurance that shook Sofia to her bones. Her breath caught in her throat, the wave of Ethan's unbelievable words shaking her. The tension thickened as he sealed the tiny gap that was separating them. "The question is, Sofia," He lifted his hand to tuck her loose hair behind her ear while she shivered under his touch. "Can you handle your boss?" A cold boss with the darkest insatiable desires that a naive, inexperienced girl like Sofia could never match- what could they possibly have in common? Love? However, even love needs a common ground, and these two are different in all ways, and everything stands in their way. With a possessive fiance who is a perfect match for Ethan in all aspects, perfect even for his darkest desires, is there anything that can make Ethan choose Sofia against all odds?
"In this circle, Irma, it doesn't work that way. It hurts, but we can't be!" The sweet, despotic, icy voice that used to thaw her down now imperiled her cool, evoking shivers of immense heartache and incredulity. "Our pedigrees are way too distinct, Irma! You can't fit in. I am sorry!" He ascertained, as if he rigorously knew where to drill through. Her bleeding heart was shattered by his impudence. This pain was unlike anything she had ever felt prior. It was immense. The man she had given her all without holding back anything now hurt her without a second thought. It stung her more than a double-edged dagger piercing through human flesh! "Someday, you pathetic son of a bitch, you will eat back this shit you just puked now! That I vouch in the name of the thriving fruit of the love I sowed in you!" She thought as she bitterly wore her crown of pride and dignity and turned her back on him. But those were her words and wishes, which contradicted the ways of fate. Nobody knows the ways of fate, and Irma was about to get a taste of the mischief of fate. What lies ahead for poor Irma? Join me on this lopsided but prodigious love story of two bleak soles!
Amy didn't expect that her husband whom she had loved and trusted earnestly for many years would be cheating on her by having sex with his secretary. When she confronted him, he and his secretary mocked and ridiculed her, they called her barren to her face, afterall, she had not conceived for the past three years that she had been married to her husband, Callan. Terribly Heartbroken, she filed for divorce and left to the club, she picked a random gigolo, had a hot one night stand with him, paid him and dissapeared to a small city. She came back to the country six years later with three identical cute boys and three identical cute girls of the same age. She settled and got a job but soon find out that her CEO was the gigolo she had sex with six years back at the club. Will she be able to hide her six little cuties from her CEO, who happens to be the most powerful man in NorthHill and beleived to be infertile? Can Amy and the most powerful man in NorthHill get along considering the social gap between them.
Melanie married Ashton out of gratitude, but she quickly found herself entangled in a web of relentless challenges. Despite these struggles, she stayed true to her commitment to the marriage. In the hospital room, Ashton indifferently attempted to draw her blood, disregarding her discomfort. This callous act was a harsh revelation for Melanie, awakening her to the grim reality of their relationship. Resolved to prioritize her own welfare, she decided to sever ties. With newfound resolve, Melanie filed for divorce. In the process, she unveiled her concealed identities, leaving everyone in shock. Throughout these turbulent times, Melanie realized that Derek, Ashton’s uncle, had been discreetly protecting her all along.
"Sign the divorce papers and get out!" Leanna got married to pay a debt, but she was betrayed by her husband and shunned by her in-laws. Seeing that her efforts were in vain, she agreed to divorce and claimed her half of the properties. With her purse plump from the settlement, Leanna enjoyed her newfound freedom. The constant harassment from her ex's mistress never fazed her. She took back her identities as top hacker, champion racer, medical professor, and renowned jewelry designer. Then someone discovered her secret. Matthew smiled. "Will you have me as your next husband?"
Desperate to handle her grandmother's towering medical bills, Gianna agreed to a contract marriage with Tristan, the enigmatic man she'd once shared a one-night stand with. She assumed they'd fulfill each other's needs and dissolve the arrangement once the terms expired. Unbeknownst to Gianna, this marriage was a dream Tristan had clung to for ten relentless years. Certain she was just filling someone else's role, Gianna prepared to leave when that other woman returned. But Tristan, his eyes burning with unspoken emotion, seized her trembling hand and declared, "You’re mine. Now and always."
Kaelyn devoted three years tending to her husband after a terrible accident. But once he was fully recovered, he cast her aside and brought his first love back from abroad. Devastated, Kaelyn decided on a divorce as people mocked her for being discarded. She went on to reinvent herself, becoming a highly sought-after doctor, a champion racer, and an internationally renowned architectural designer. Even then, the traitors sneered in disdain, believing Kaelyn would never find someone. But then the ex-husband’s uncle, a powerful warlord, returned with his army to ask for Kaelyn’s hand in marriage.
She was a world-renowned divine doctor, the CEO of a publicly traded company, the most formidable female mercenary, and a top-tier tech genius. Marissa, a titan with a plethora of secret identities, had hidden her true stature to marry a seemingly impoverished young man. However, on the eve of their wedding, her fiance, who was actually the lost heir to a wealthy dynasty, called off the engagement and subjected her to degradation and mockery. Upon the revelation of her concealed identities, her ex-fiance was left stunned and desperately pleaded for her forgiveness. Standing protectively before Marissa, an incredibly influential and fearsome magnate declared, "This is my wife. Who would dare try to claim her?"