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#SURVIVAL
#BETRAYAL
#REVENGE

Married to my Downfall

he tightens his grip on her wrist, his cold, lustful eyes bore into her soul, reminding her of the vows they once exchanged. "You are mine and mine alone," he whispers, his voice dripping with dark possessiveness. But Diara is no longer the broken woman he left behind. She meets his gaze with a defiant grin, her voice steady as she declares, "I have signed the divorce papers, there’s nothing between us." But Kellan, ever the predator, smirks at her defiance, licking his lips in a way that makes her skin crawl. "I have not yet signed the divorce papers," he sneers, "It’s null and void." His words send a wave of disgust through her, but she refuses to back down. She has suffered enough—endured the heartbreak of losing countless children, the relentless torment of the Crownstar family, and the pain of loving a man who only brought her misery. Diara thought she had escaped his clutches, but now he has returned, more dangerous and determined than ever to claim her as his own. He may have broken her once, but this time, Diara is prepared to fight back. She knows that Kellan is a monster, a man who thrives on control and manipulation, and she is ready to do whatever it takes to free herself from his grasp once and for all. As the battle between them intensifies, Diara must confront the demons of her past and the dark reality of her present. In a world where love is twisted into something unrecognizable, she must find the strength to reclaim her life and protect herself from the man who once vowed to cherish her—but who now seeks to destroy her.

SilverSkyla · Urbain
Pas assez d’évaluations
65 Chs
#SURVIVAL
#BETRAYAL
#REVENGE

Chapter 44

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the chandeliers casting a muted golden hue over the lavish space. 

Diara sat stiffly at the dining table, her fingers resting lightly on the edge of her plate. Opposite her, Kellan adjusted his chair, his movements slow and deliberate, the weight of unspoken tension hanging thick in the air.  

The faint clinking of silverware against porcelain broke the silence as Kellan carefully cut the steak on her plate.

 His touch was unnervingly gentle, a stark contrast to the memory that lingered just beneath her skin—a memory that burned her mind as vividly as the physical scars left behind.  

He placed the neatly cut pieces before her and leaned back, his voice calm, almost warm. "Please, eat," he said, watching her intently.  

Diara glanced down at the plate, her stomach twisting. The steak, cooked to perfection, was glistening under the candlelight, the smell rich and enticing.