**Chapter One** “Breathing so heavily, aren’t we? How many dicks have you taken?” Julian Vance gripped Elara Thorne’s chin, his body pressing into her, a cruel force. His eyes were dark, simmering with fury. Just a curtain separated us. Outside, the college reunion buzzed with laughter and teasing. “Classic Julian, playing it rough! This girl sounds hot, mind if a few of us have a turn later?” Others chimed in, egging him on. Julian’s voice was lazy, dripping with mockery as he stared at me. “No way. I’m not done with her yet.” “Unless, of course, I get bored.” I bit my lower lip, a scorching wave of hatred washing over me. Julian’s fiancée, Anya Petrova, had drowned herself. He’d sworn I was the one who drove her to it. After that, he’d forced me to marry him, demanding I replace the wife I’d supposedly taken from him. Years into our marriage, Julian had never once acknowledged our relationship publicly. But the ways he found to torment me? They changed all the time. He’d humiliate me without a thought for my well-being, all to avenge his dead saint, Anya. I’d resisted sleeping with him once, and he locked me away for seven days and seven nights. I’d angered his trophy girl, and he’d turned around and leaked my private videos to the media. I refused to break, longing for home every single day, until news came that my parents had been run over and killed by a speeding sports car. Then, to make matters worse, a fire burned my house to the ground, leaving me homeless. To him, I was nothing more than a cheap plaything. The more I suffered, the happier he seemed. Julian watched my humiliated expression, then grabbed my wrist, his eyes sparkling with malice. “Impatient, are we? Just get on your knees and say you love me, and I’ll take back everything I just said.” I stared into his eyes, refusing to utter a single word. Kneel and say I loved the man who’d brought me so much bloody misery? I’d die before I ever did that. Julian just smirked, already used to my guarded demeanor. “Such a tough nut to crack,” he murmured, his fingertip tracing the tear-mole near my eye. “All these years, you’ve never once given in to me. Not even when your parents died did you shed a tear in front of me. You’re truly ruthless.” My eyes were already cold and numb. I endured the humiliation by his side to drag the entire Vance Group down with him, to bury it alongside my parents. But he was always so careful. It took me five agonizing years to find even a faint clue. Just three more days. In three days, I would have all the evidence of his crimes, enough to send him straight to hell. Julian, however, remained completely oblivious. He chuckled. “Your first love is out there, do you want him to see you moaning for me?” He was a madman… My nails dug deep into my palms. Sensing my trembling, Julian’s interest only grew. “Remember how you’d rather die than marry me? You ran out into the pouring rain to beg him, but he was too afraid of the Vance family’s power, so he shut the door in your face.” A playful glint flickered in his eyes, but his voice deepened. “What exactly did you see in him?” Seeing I wouldn’t answer, he leaned in, whispering into my ear. “No answer? Then how about I start a live stream for him? Let him get a good look at his ex-girlfriend enjoying herself under me.” With that, Julian raised his phone. My mind buzzed, then exploded. The accumulated shame and fury finally erupted. My nails raked wildly across his body, desperate to tear him apart. His shirt was loose and open, his exquisite collarbone marred by my messy claw marks, little beads of blood surfacing, a truly shocking sight. Julian’s eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of irritation darkening his brow. “You’re already married to me, and you still dare to think of him?” Ignoring my struggles, he pinned me beneath him, his actions growing more reckless, his voice a cold, low command. “Scream. Let him hear it loud and clear.” The brutal retaliation rained down on me. My muffled whimpers slowly transformed into uncontrollable moans of arousal, tears streaming down my face from the pain, yet he wouldn’t stop. A mix of shame and rage, I wildly slapped him across the face, my voice trembling, tearful. “Julian Vance, you animal!” He looked at my reaction, utterly satisfied, a cruel smile playing on his lips. Outside, the others finally sensed something was wrong. “Blake, doesn’t that voice sound like your ex-girlfriend, Elara?” **Chapter Two** The mention of Blake Carrington made me reel. Back in high school, local delinquents with dyed hair had whistled and leered at me. They were influential troublemakers in the area. Before, one female student had been assaulted, and the school, wanting to avoid trouble, expelled her. She later jumped to her death. I was terrified. A few of the punks dragged me into an alley, pinning my hands and feet, tearing at my underwear. Passersby ignored my desperate pleas. When I heard the sound of a zipper, I almost despaired. It was Blake Carrington, wearing his blue and white school uniform, who rushed in. He fought them off, almost breaking his arm. That day, he was covered in blood, his chin weakly resting on my shoulder. The proud young man, backlit by the sun, asked me with eyes full of tenderness and sincerity: “My 99th confession, Elara… will you be my girlfriend?” “Blake, you’re such an idiot.” I cried as I said yes, believing I’d found salvation. Our seventeen-year-old secret was him secretly writing “I love you” a thousand times on the flyleaf of my book, it was his profile from under the cherry blossom tree, my gaze lingering a thousand times. After Anya Petrova’s death, Blake was the only one who came to comfort me. He even gave me a fruit wine, disguised as a proposal. I thought I’d found love, a beautiful ending from campus to wedding gown. Who knew Blake had drugged my drink and sold my first time to Julian Vance? That night was the beginning of my nightmare. Later, I learned that he’d pursued me only to make Anya jealous, and the thugs were hired by him, part of a setup. As for the thousand “I love you’s” on the flyleaf of that book? They were love letters written to Anya… After Anya’s death, Blake hated me to his core. So, he feigned a proposal, when in reality, it was all to ruin my innocence. From start to finish, I was just a joke. “Why bring her up? She’s as flat as a board, and stiff as a plank in bed. Boring.” Blake Carrington swirled his wine glass, his lean fingers tapping restlessly. Hearing my name, he clearly looked annoyed. Someone chuckled, “Back then, she was so poor she only ate bread and drank tap water, so she was just underdeveloped. You can’t tell me, Blake, you never felt anything for that seductive face of hers?” “Blake doesn’t lack women, but plenty of brothers have had their eye on her for years, wishing they could get her in bed…” Those words seemed to stir Blake’s memories. He’d seen too many women. My figure held no appeal for him, but my face was undeniably alluring. One glance and his stomach would burn. He frowned, then started walking towards the curtain. The curtain was suddenly yanked open. I instinctively trembled and squeezed my eyes shut. If Julian Vance was a nightmare, Blake Carrington was a wolf in human skin, pretending to be kind but always scheming and exploiting. I’d die before I ever saw him again. The next second, a black suit jacket was draped over me, hiding the numerous hickeys covering my body. Julian pressed me into his arms, his voice mocking. “Well, well, Blake. In a hurry, aren’t we?” Blake’s gaze swept over the messy scene, his face darkening. “You and Anya were best friends. You drove her to her death, and you still have the nerve to do this with her fiancé…” His tone was cold and thin, a flicker of unconcealed disgust in his eyes. “Do you have any conscience left?” I closed my eyes slightly. “I told you, I didn’t force her…” That year, Anya had jumped into the sea. Before she died, she pointed at me, accusing me of stealing Julian Vance, then jumped to her despairing death right in front of me. But I never even liked Julian Vance. Why would I force Anya to die? Blake scoffed. “After her death, you grandly married into the Vance family. If it wasn’t you, who else could it be? And you still have the nerve to show your face at this reunion… Elara, don’t you disgust yourself?” Disgusting. The word was like a knife, plunging deep into my chest, causing a dull ache. After Julian took my first time, Blake had comforted me, full of feigned sympathy. Later, he indulged his appetite, whispering countless intimate words to me in hotel beds. Now, he called me disgusting. Perhaps Julian noticed the fleeting hurt in my eyes. His brow raised in amusement. “She’s my wife. Is it for an outsider like you to decide if she’s disgusting or not?” “You…” Blake’s face turned ashen, and he spun around and left. Julian, however, seemed to be in a good mood. He carefully covered me up, then personally carried me back to his latest Rolls-Royce. In the car, Julian’s fingers grazed my lips, then pressed down hard. “Your first love didn’t save you. Disappointed?” I closed my eyes, expressionless, unwilling to respond. Julian wasn’t satisfied. He bit my earlobe, his voice low. “If you don’t answer me, I’ll do it right here in the car. It’ll be a nice show for all the passersby.” People were coming and going all around us. I snapped my eyes open. “You’re insane!” **Chapter Three** Perhaps my tone was too agitated. Julian’s lips curved slightly, playing with my hair. “Just kidding, why so tense?” His voice was unusually gentle. He ran his fingers through my hair. “I’m not happy with your behavior today. I have some company matters to deal with, so go home, be a good girl, get cleaned up, and wait for me. I’ll be back later to keep you company.” Every time he wanted to punish me, he’d use every means to make me submit. Recalling those details, a wave of nausea washed over me. My gaze was cold as I said, “I’m not feeling well.” Julian’s expression subtly tightened. He brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. “I have tens of thousands of your private videos.” My face paled, my nails digging deep into my palms. Back then, Julian, to retaliate against me and ensure I couldn’t escape the Vance family, had recorded tens of thousands of intimate videos during countless nights—thousands of gigabytes, all stored on his computer. “Don’t look at me like that,” Julian loosened his tie. His black suit made his legs look exceptionally straight and long, and his eyes held a playful, unreadable smile. “Otherwise, I’ll think you’re inviting me right now.” His tone was incredibly suggestive. I bit down, straightened my messy collar, then got out of the car and hailed a taxi. Soon. My nails dug deeper into my palms. Soon, I would have collected all the evidence, sent Julian Vance to prison, and started a new life somewhere else. I opened my phone and suddenly saw an anonymous post. [Documenting the 99th humiliation plan: Making the heartthrob publicly humiliate his best friend at a party, embarrassing her in front of her ex-boyfriend!] The poster claimed she had a crush on a guy in high school, but he fell for her best friend. In a fit of rage, she found a corpse and faked her own suicide by jumping into the sea. Afterward, the heartthrob was filled with regret and married the best friend, tormenting her for five agonizing years. Just as the heartthrob grew disheartened, the poster went to the hospital, got plastic surgery to become her own double, and made the heartthrob avenge his “dead” self, orchestrating a “hundred humiliations plan.” As soon as he completed a hundred plans, she would accept his proposal. The contents of these plans were practically dog training, including but not limited to locking her best friend with chains for seven days and seven nights, recording thousands of gigabytes of private videos, and so on. Even more absurdly, the heartthrob actually carried out each one. The more I read, the tighter my brows furrowed. My heart pounded as I scrolled to the top and saw the latest post, uploaded five minutes ago. It included a picture of a girl in a white dress, smiling sweetly at the screen. That face was nine-tenths identical to the deceased Anya Petrova! And the content of the latest post was: [Documenting the 100th humiliation plan: Getting the heartthrob to abandon his wife to celebrate my birthday. Another day of being a little princess~] A sudden chill swept over me, my mind in turmoil, but I instinctively denied my suspicions. No way. It must be another one of Julian’s sick jokes. When Anya died, I had seen her body with my own eyes, bloated from the water. The birthmark on her shoulder couldn’t have been wrong. I stared intently at the address on the post, then told the driver in a low voice, “To the Imperial Luxury Hotel.” The car sped towards the opulent hotel. The lobby was grand and magnificent, illuminated like daytime by dazzling crystal chandeliers, filled with wealthy and renowned figures. I stared at the scene before me, stunned. The two men who had seemed at odds at the party—Julian Vance, CEO of Vance Group, and Blake Carrington, a powerful socialite—now stood beside a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to Anya Petrova. Under the soft lighting, the noble and unruly Julian Vance inclined his head slightly, personally placing a silver tiara on Anya’s head. Beside him, Blake Carrington knelt on one knee, gently placing crystal shoes worth hundreds of millions on her feet. It was exactly like a scene from a romantic drama. Julian handed her an exquisite crystal bottle, his usually stern eyes softening a few degrees. “For you. Happy birthday.” Anya gasped. “This is the aurora sample I mentioned offhand last time, Julian. How did you get it?” Julian chuckled softly. “Knew you liked it. Saw it at an auction and just picked it up.” Only I knew he was lying. Such a rare, priceless item could only be found in the deepest parts of the polar regions, a place even professional exploration teams dared not venture. That day, Julian had traveled to the Arctic alone, nearly losing his life. When he was rushed to the ICU upon his return, he was still clutching that crystal bottle tightly. Looking at that aurora crystal bottle, my heart twisted inch by agonizing inch. Julian, such an arrogant and cold man, would only ever risk his life for one woman. “Thank you, Julian.” Anya deliberately rubbed against Julian’s neck, deliberately exposing a white molar-shaped birthmark on her shoulder. The expression, the tone, and the shape of that birthmark—they were identical! The ironclad evidence became the last straw that broke the camel’s back. I could barely stand. I stumbled forward, gathering every ounce of strength to walk over to Anya Petrova. Julian finally noticed me, his gaze unperturbed, showing no awkwardness at being caught. I opened my mouth, my voice trembling as I asked, “Who is she?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his face. “What answer do you want to hear?” “Julian Vance, is she…” My eyes reddened. I took a deep breath, then choked out the question, “Is she Anya Petrova?” Julian seemed genuinely surprised. No matter how much humiliation I suffered in the past, I never shed a single tear. Not even when my parents died did I bat an eye. But now, my entire body was trembling. Seeing my red eyes, he raised an eyebrow. “No.” “She’s not Anya,” Blake Carrington subtly stepped in front of Anya, his brow furrowed. “Elara, have you forgotten? Anya was killed by you long ago.” I had seen with my own eyes Anya “die” in front of me. Back then, Anya and I were the best of friends. After she drowned, I carried a crushing guilt for five years. Every night I closed my eyes, I’d dream of Anya’s desperate, helpless gaze. But now, the face from my memories merged with the face of the woman before me. Anya’s red lips curved slightly, and she smiled sweetly. “Hi, I’m Anya, Anya as in ‘Anya rising’ if you know what I mean, big sister.” **Chapter Four** Anya Petrova, Anya. Just an elaborate fake death scheme. I suddenly felt like a complete joke. My best friend, my husband, my ex-boyfriend—all of them had conspired together to weave this massive web of revenge, tormenting me until I was a walking corpse, wishing for death.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “297121”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance
Leave a Reply