A billionaire plays alter ego in this breath taking narrative. He goes out to the same woman using two different identities
A billionaire plays alter ego in this breath taking narrative. He goes out to the same woman using two different identities
Violla Milan felt like she had been aimlessly walking in the desert for a very long time. The heat was overwhelming, making her feel like she was burning up. She desperately longed to quench her thirst.
In her dazed state, a man's icy lips covered hers, providing a temporary respite from the scorching heat. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, indulging in their passionate encounter.
Moans and pants filled the room, their shadows dancing on the wall, consumed by their burning desire. The dim light prevented Violla from seeing the man's face clearly, but she was overwhelmed by his prowess in bed. They engaged in a wild and savage embrace until dawn broke, and he left.
As Violla gradually regained consciousness, her eyes struggled to focus. She caught a blurry glimpse of the man's back, adorned with a tattoo of a vicious cobra's head at the small of his back. The sight of the tattoo filled her with fear and her heart raced in response.
Violla found herself caught in a dream where she transformed into a vine entwined around a colossal tree, unable to break free. When she awoke, her body ached terribly, adding to her confusion.
Sitting up in bed with a splitting headache, Violla surveyed the chaotic scene around her. The bed was in disarray, and a torn men's shirt lay on the floor. Shocked, she desperately tried to piece together the events of the previous night.
She recalled that at her engagement party, her fiancee had betrayed her, pushing her to the brink of despair. In an attempt to console her, her cousin Leila Smith had taken her to Empire Night to drown her sorrows in alcohol.
In her intoxicated state, Violla had impulsively declared her desire for revenge against her fiancee. Without hesitation, Leila had arranged for a male escort to accompany Violla. As the memories flooded back, Violla clutched her chest in shock, realizing that she had lost her virginity to a stranger. Overwhelmed with frustration, she tugged at her hair in despair.
After some time, Violla snapped out of her trance and hastily dressed herself. As she hurried out of the hotel, a swarm of reporters descended upon her, accompanied by blinding camera flashes and a barrage of harsh questions.
"Miss Milan, is it true that you spent the night with a male escort from Empire Night after your engagement was called off by the Stanleys?" one reporter asked.
Violla Milan stood there, her heart pounding, as the barrage of shocking questions hit her one after another.
"Miss Milan, are you aware that the male escort is a transvestite?" one person asked.
"Miss Milan, did you know your father has gone bankrupt?" another inquired.
"Miss Milan, we have just received news that your father has committed suicide. He jumped off his company's building," yet another person added.
Violla's mind went blank, as if she had just been struck by lightning. Overwhelmed by the devastating revelations, she fled from the scene, unable to find the right words to respond.
The next morning, the headlines blazed with news about Violla and her father: "Richest Man in Red City, Gerald Milan, Goes Bankrupt and Commits Suicide," "Franklin Stanley Dumps Daughter of Gerald Milan โ Violla Milan," "Violla Milan Spends Night at Club with Transvestite Male Escort." Each piece of breaking news quickly made its way to the headlines, turning Violla, once a wealthy heiress, into a despicable and immoral figure overnight. She had lost everything โ her family, her fortune, and her reputation.
Ten months later, the cries of babies filled the air in an unremarkable countryside clinic.
Mrs. Blake approached Violla, holding a baby in her arms, her face filled with excitement. "Miss, congratulations. You have given birth to triplets โ two boys and a girl!"
๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐'๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐.
Violla arrived in the city with her kids and Mrs. Blake. The plump Mrs. Blake was holding two big pieces of luggage, heaving as she walked. Violla had a denim backpack slung over her shoulder as she squeezed out of the busy train station with her three kids.
To others, they looked like a poor family from the countryside coming to the city to rely on their relatives. "Out of my way, country bumpkin!" A woman wearing a fur coat harshly shoved Mrs. Blake away and insulted her. Violla was about to reprimand that woman when a fleet of luxury cars came to a stop beside her.
Before anyone could react, dozens of security guards alighted from their vehicles and formed two neat rows. Giving a deep bow, they called out in unison, "Welcome back, Mrs. Stanley!"
Hearing the name 'Stanley,' Violla glanced at the convoy and saw the Stanley crest on the cars. ''Are they here for me?'' She grew excited at that thought.
''Could it be that Franklin never betrayed me? Did he call off our engagement because he had no other choice back then? Now that he knows I am back, he must be here to pick me up!'' Violla thought.
"Miss, is Mr. Stanley here to pick us up?" Mrs. Blake asked. A delighted Mrs. Blake was about to step forward when two security guards rudely pushed them away.
A graceful woman dressed in expensive clothing walked out, flanked by an entourage.
Violla's lips parted in surprise. ''Isn't this Leila Smith?'' she asked herself. Leila was clad in a designer suit. She looked more elegant than she was four years ago. Her fingers were curled around the little hand of a boy around the same age as Violla's triplets.
"Mrs. Stanley, Titus this way, please," the security guards greeted them politely.
"I will never take the train again. It's filthy and full of commoners," declared Leila, covering her nose with her handkerchief in disdain.
"Yes, yes. If it weren't for the weather, Mr. Stanley wouldn't have let you and Titus suffer," said the security guard. The security guards escorted Leila and the little boy into a car. Both Leila and her son were so arrogant they didn't even glance around them. Thus, they failed to notice Violla in the crowd.
"What is going on?" Mrs. Blake recognized Leila and blurted out. "Isn't that your cousin? Is she married to Mr. Stanley now?"
"I think so." Violla said. As Stanley's convoy drove away,
''He said I will be his only bride in this life.But now, he's married to my cousin. They even have a big son!'' Violla thought to herself.Tears prickled at Violla's eyes as her nose burned.
"Mommy, what's wrong?" The kids asked when they spotted Violla's red-rimmed eyes, all three of them surrounded her and voiced their concerns. "I am fine." Violla muttered while wiping her eyes dry, she knelt down and pulled the three of them in for a hug.
"Mommy, don't be sad. When I grow up, I'll buy a big car for you. Then, you won't have to suffer anymore," offered her eldest son, Ryan. He thought she was upset because someone had harassed her.
"Mommy, who harassed you? Let me beat them up!" Jason, the second boy, waved his fists adorably and puffed up his cheeks.
Eliana, the youngest of the triplets, rubbed her cheek against Violla's and comforted her. "Mommy, don't cry!"
"Don't cry! Don't cry!" Suddenly, a green head poked out of Eliana's pocket. It belonged to a cheeky parrot that was glancing around curiously at that moment.
"No, I'm not crying," Violla said, inhaling sharply and putting on a smile. "Come on, let's go home!" she added. "Yay, let's go!" the kids chirped excitedly.
Violla gave each of them a kiss before slinging the backpack over her shoulder again and heading out to hail a cab. She used to be a wealthy heiress with an entourage wherever she went, but now she had to queue up to hail a cab with Mrs. Blake and her kids. Not to mention, she was heavily loaded with their baggage. Since they couldn't all fit in one cab, Mrs. Blake had to take a separate one by herself.
There was an overcast sky, and a storm seemed imminent. Hoping to avoid it, the cab driver was speeding anxiously along the road when suddenly, he rammed into an Aston Martin up ahead. The cab driver's face turned pale instantly, and he got out of his cab to check the situation.
Violla sat in the passenger seat and looked out of the window, furrowing her brows. It was a limited-edition Aston Martin, with only three units in South Nation and thirty-five worldwide. Even if it were a minor scratch, the cab driver would have to compensate a substantial amount of money, which might cause him to go bankrupt.
The conflict was going to be a hassle and would probably take a long time to resolve. Looking up, Violla noticed that the sky had turned a gloomy grey. The storm was about to hit anytime.
She didn't want her kids to get soaked in the rain, especially Eliana, who had been physically weak since she was young. The little girl would definitely catch a cold if she got wet.
"Ryan, Jason, Eliana, stay in the car. I'll go down and see what's happening," Violla told her children before getting out of the cab.
"Mommy, be careful!" the kids yelled out unanimously. Finny the parrot poked its head out of Eliana's pocket again curiously.
Eliana gave it a tiny snack and gently petted its fluffy head. "Finny, hold on tight. We'll be home soon!" she told the parrot.
"Sir, I'm sorry. I didn't hit your car on purpose," the cab driver explained nervously. "It was the passenger's fault. She has three kids and a lot of baggage. My cab is overloaded, so I accidentally bumped into your car." When he saw Violla, he immediately pointed at her. "You're responsible for this!"
"Huh? Why?" she exclaimed.
Violla was about to retort when the window of the Aston rolled down. "Forget it. The boss is busy!" The man seated in the passenger seat spoke as he glanced over Violla.
"Yes!" The man in the suit nodded and told the cab driver to drive carefully next time before leaving. Violla instinctively gazed at the backseat of the Aston when the driver opened the door. To her surprise, she saw a half-naked man with his back turned to her.
A snarly wound snaked across his back as blood trickled down onto the snake head tattoo on the small of his back. Cobra head tattoo? The cobra head tattoo!
Violla's eyes widened in disbelief. She stared at the tattoo wordlessly as her heart jumped to her throat. The ferocious cobra was gazing at her, its eyes stained bright red by the man's blood, looking ever so bloodthirsty. It's him! It really is him!
"Move out of the way!" The cab driver gave Violla an abrupt push, causing her to topple to the ground. When she looked up again, the Aston had disappeared from sight. Violla felt her head buzzing as she stared at the empty road ahead.
"Was that him in the car just now? The kids' father? Wasn't he a man's escort at Empire Night? Why was he in that expensive car with that horrible wound?"
"Hey, why did you push my mommy?" Jason waved his fists angrily at the cab driver.
"Brat, stop yelling at me. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have gotten this unlucky," cursed the cab driver.
"You were the one speeding before hitting that car. That's none of our business!" Ryan retorted in his bubbly voice. "As your passengers, we're not responsible for your mistake! You violated the traffic law. We can file a complaint against you!"
"Yes, you harassed Mommy. I will ask the police to arrest you!" Eliana pouted furiously and pointed at someone in the middle of the road. "There's a traffic police!" Finny, who was perched on her shoulder, chirped out instantly. "Traffic police! Traffic police!"
"What a nuisance. Get off! I refuse to take you to your destination anymore." The cab driver proceeded to open his trunk and threw their baggage in the middle of the road before leaving in a huff.
"Hey! How could you?" Violla whined. She picked up her baggage clumsily and brought the kids to the side of the road.
Meanwhile, the man in the backseat of the Aston Martin, Davon Roman, looked up and glanced at the rearview mirror. "That woman looks familiar. Where have I seen her before?" he thought to himself.
"Mr. Roman, I'll inject the anesthetic now!" said the doctor who was dealing with his wound. "No need," Davon said. The man was reading a file in his hand. His wound was bleeding profusely, but he wasn't bothered at all.
"Um, this may sting a little then. I'm going to stitch your wound up."
Frowning, the doctor started stitching the wound up. As there was no anesthetic involved, the doctor was more nervous than usual. The man's tanned skin glinted under the light icily. His muscles contracted from the immense pain, but his expression remained the same.
Blinded in a crash, Cary was rejected by every socialiteโexcept Evelina, who married him without hesitation. Three years later, he regained his sight and ended their marriage. "Weโve already lost so many years. I wonโt let her waste another one on me." Evelina signed the divorce papers without a word. Everyone mocked her fallโuntil they discovered that the miracle doctor, jewelry mogul, stock genius, top hacker, and the President's true daughterโฆ were all her. When Cary came crawling back, a ruthless tycoon had him kicked out. "She's my wife now. Get lost."
Eliana reunited with her family, now ruined by fate: Dad jailed, Mom deathly ill, six crushed brothers, and a fake daughter who'd fled for richer prey. Everyone sneered. But at her command, Eliana summoned the Onyx Syndicate. Bars opened, sickness vanished, and her brothers rose-one walking again, others soaring in business, tech, and art. When society mocked the "country girl," she unmasked herself: miracle doctor, famed painter, genius hacker, shadow queen. A powerful tycoon held her close. "Country girl? She's my fiancรฉe!" Eliana glared at him. "Dream on." Resolutely, he vowed never to let go.
The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardenerโs shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancรฉ, Ambroseโthe man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.
After a one-night stand with a stranger, Roselyn woke up to find only a bank card without a PIN number. Still in a daze, she was detained on charges of theft. Just as the handcuffs were about to close, the mysterious man reappeared, holding her pregnancy report. "You're pregnant with my child," he said coldly. Shocked, Roselyn was whisked away in a helicopter to the presidential palace, where she learned the truth: the man from that night was none other than the country's most powerful and influential leader!
I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskeyโher favorite drinkโforgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.
The night I discovered my husband's whore was carrying his heir, I smiled for the cameras-and plotted his ruin. Scarlett was born a queen-heir to a powerful legacy, Luna of the Dark Moon Pack by blood and by sacrifice. She gave everything to Alexander: her love, her loyalty, her life. In return, he paraded his mistress before their pack... and dared to call it duty. But Scarlett won't be another broken woman weeping in the shadows. She'll wear her crown of thorns with pride, tear down every lie built around her, and when she strikes, it will be glorious. The Alpha forgot that the woman he betrayed is far more dangerous than the girl who once loved him.
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