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to be an impossible love story. I was the rebellious artist who h
iage was a lie, a charade designed to protect his fragile sister-in-law, Kala.
letting me endure his family' s scorn for bein
"accidents" that left me scarred. They systematically broke me, forcing me to give
licate. Not like you." He thought I was strong enough
as the celebrated artist 'Lark.' And when he came crawling back, begging for forgiv
pte
sa Va
o take the hits, not protect the vulnerable." Eli' s voice, cold an
where he was my hero and I, his vibrant, rebellious artist, had chased him across continents.
gating his ancient, traditional family, a gilded cage I' d gladly entered, thinking it was the price of true passion. I had fallen deeply, com
his face a mask of his usual controlled composure. But this time, I saw it differently. It wasn't d
of the Drake conglomerate, old money, old rules. Our worlds were supposed to collide
Elyssa, had recoiled, her lips thinning to a pale line. "Drake women uphold tradition, Carissa, not... deface it." I had scoffed, looking to Eli for support, but he had merely given a
arrangements last minute, replacing them with dusty classical sculptures. "This is how we do things," she'd stated, her voice as unyielding as granite. I had fought back, loudly and publicly, c
us since our wedding day. I' d bristled under their expectations, arguing for choice, for our own timing. Eli had always seemed to side wit
ting me from my wifely duties. I had exploded, my voice echoing through the silent mansion, declaring that my body was my own, my choices mine to make. Eli had walked in
anded like a fist to my stomach. "You know, Carissa
hased, the man I had believed in. He was criticizing my very essence, the fire he had once claimed
y he' d let me be humiliated, the way he' d allowed me to be framed for crimes I didn' t commit, all while standing silently by. Each tim
laid bare. I had inadvertently overheard a conversation, a hushed exchange between Eli and his family lawyer
their attention from Kala. Now, we need to finalize the framework for
had spun in my head, a diz
ys strong enough to take it. She thrives on defianc
? Thrives on defiance? Was that all I was to hi
the vasectomy? Still holding up, I p
ng for a child, of feeling inadequate under the family's watchful eyes, of silent tears shed in the steri
eatening to buckle beneath me. This wasn't just betrayal; it was
the, mocking my shattered illusions. My love for Eli, once a burning inferno, chilled instantly, solidifying i
t was all a terrible misunderstanding. But as I watched him, his gaze st
hat moment, so consumed was he by his callous conversation. His eyes, devoid of any
laced by a searing, metallic taste of vengeance. My face, my muscles, became stone. My eyes, once bright with love, now held a dangerous, chilling glint. He had u
day he ever thought I was

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