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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.
Allison fell in love with Ethan Iversen, the soon-to-be Alpha of the Moonlight Crown pack. She always wanted him to notice her. Meanwhile, Ethan was an arrogant Alpha who thought a weak Omega could not be his companion. Ethan's cousin, Ryan Iversen, who came back from abroad and was the actual heir of the pack, never tried to get the position nor did he show any interest in it. He was a popular playboy Alpha but when he came back to the pack, one thing captured his eyes and that was Allison.
Rena got into an entanglement with a big shot when she was drunk one night. She needed Waylen's help while he was drawn to her youthful beauty. As such, what was supposed to be a one-night stand progressed into something serious. All was well until Rena discovered that Waylen's heart belonged to another woman. When his first love returned, he stopped coming home, leaving Rena all alone for many nights. She put up with it until she received a check and farewell note one day. Contrary to how Waylen expected her to react, Rena had a smile on her face as she bid him farewell. "It was fun while it lasted, Waylen. May our paths never cross. Have a nice life." But as fate would have it, their paths crossed again. This time, Rena had another man by her side. Waylen's eyes burned with jealousy. He spat, "How the hell did you move on? I thought you loved only me!" "Keyword, loved!" Rena flipped her hair back and retorted, "There are plenty of fish in the sea, Waylen. Besides, you were the one who asked for a breakup. Now, if you want to date me, you have to wait in line." The next day, Rena received a credit alert of billions and a diamond ring. Waylen appeared again, got down on one knee, and uttered, "May I cut in line, Rena? I still want you."
"Is it considered betrayal to develop feelings for your best friend's boyfriend? What about when fate intervenes, and he turns out to be your destined mate? You might think it's luck and thank the moon goddess for such a twist of fate. That's what I believed until the love of my life uttered those dreaded words: 'I want a divorce!' As I stared at the pregnancy test in my hands, I realized it was better to keep my secret to myself. My name is Violet, and this is my story."
There was only one man in Raegan's heart, and it was Mitchel. In the second year of her marriage to him, she got pregnant. Raegan's joy knew no bounds. But before she could break the news to her husband, he served her divorce papers because he wanted to marry his first love. After an accident, Raegan lay in the pool of her own blood and called out to Mitchel for help. Unfortunately, he left with his first love in his arms. Raegan escaped death by the whiskers. Afterward, she decided to get her life back on track. Her name was everywhere years later. Mitchel became very uncomfortable. For some reason, he began to miss her. His heart ached when he saw her all smiles with another man. He crashed her wedding and fell to his knees while she was at the altar. With bloodshot eyes, he queried, "I thought you said your love for me is unbreakable? How come you are getting married to someone else? Come back to me!"
Charlee was left at the altar and became a laughingstock. She tried to keep her head high, but ultimately lost it when she received a sex tape of her fiance and her half-sister. Devastated, she ended up spending a wild night with a hot stranger. It was supposed to be one-time thing, but he kept popping up, helping her with projects and revenge, all while flirting with her constantly. Charlee soon realized that it was nice having him around, until her ex suddenly appeared at her door, begging for another chance. Her tycoon lover asked, “Who will you choose? Think carefully before you answer.”
Anabel found out she was pregnant and dialed her husband's number to share the good news to him. They have been married for two years without a child. Desmond's mother had been accusing her of being barren and unproductive. When the call was picked, she was flabbergasted and broken. She was hearing a loud moan of feminine voice. "Ohh! Yeah! Don't stop fucking me! Fuck me harder baby!" accompanied with sound of skins slapping against the other. She went home to confront her husband and end up receiving a divorce paper. Desmond divorced him for a lady his mother was rooting. Few months later when he found out that his ex-wife is a billionaire heiress and she is pregnant with twins, he went crazy!