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The Playboy's Wicked Revenge

The Playboy's Wicked Revenge

Alina Fati

5.0
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All she ever wanted was someone who can love her, understand her and respect her but destiny has something else stored.All her life she prayed for one thing which is, not to be a BURDEN on anyone, but life's not fair at all She thought its love but it was a revenge where she loses herself while he was only standing there with a smirk on his face and a wine in his hands. Introducing Sia Evans and Xander Black where one craves for someone who can understand her while other doesn't give damn to anyone. One is innocent, other is evil. One is clumsy and awkward while other is Perfectionist. One has so many things to say to the world while the other doesn't give a fuck. One is ice and other is fire

Chapter 1 A Chance Encounter with Arrogance

I was feeling surreal as I walked down the road, finally tasting freedom after what felt like an eternity. The sensation was indescribable-no words or sentences could do it justice. The dimly lit street, with only a few scattered people passing by, suddenly felt oddly mesmerizing. Even the rustling leaves and distant chatter seemed to welcome me into this newfound liberation.

I didn't know what was happening; I just wanted to live in the moment, to forget every memory of my past and present. I didn't want to think about anyone-not my family, not my friends, no one. For the first time in a long while, I wanted to exist without expectations, without burdens.

Lost in my thoughts, I failed to realize how far I had wandered. The once vibrant streetlights had given way to an eerie darkness, and a chill crept up my spine. I instinctively reached for my pockets, only to remember that I had nothing-not even a penny. Panic slowly started settling in.

I glanced around, hoping to spot someone, but the road was empty. Even my shadow, once a silent companion, began to fade under the dim glow of the flickering streetlight. The silence was deafening.

I walked a few more blocks until my eyes landed on a small yet enchanting house. A soft, golden light spilled from the windows, and laughter echoed faintly in the air. It seemed like some kind of gathering was taking place-perhaps a celebration or a family get-together. Hope flickered inside me. Maybe I could ask for some help. Taking a deep breath, I made my way towards the house.

As I reached the entrance, my gaze was immediately captivated by the sheer beauty of the place. The warm glow, the scent of freshly bloomed flowers, the subtle hum of music-it all felt so welcoming. Yet, amidst my admiration, I failed to notice something-or rather, someone-watching me intently.

My breath hitched as I felt the weight of a piercing gaze. Turning my head slightly, my eyes met a pair of striking emerald-green eyes-intense, cold, and utterly hypnotic. A strange sensation churned in my stomach, a mix of nervousness and something else I couldn't quite place. The man standing before me was, without a doubt, the most breathtakingly handsome person I had ever seen.

Time seemed to slow as I continued to stare, lost in his perfection. His strong jawline, his tousled dark hair, the way he exuded an air of effortless dominance-it was almost too much. I had no idea how long I had been gawking until the sound of someone clearing their throat jolted me back to reality.

Embarrassment washed over me as I suddenly became aware of my own appearance. A wave of insecurity hit me like a ton of bricks. I glanced down at my worn-out baggy pants and the faded Mickey Mouse T-shirt I had thrown on absentmindedly. Compared to him-who looked like he had just stepped out of a high-end photoshoot-I probably resembled a stray cat caught in the rain.

He cleared his throat again, this time raising a single eyebrow before speaking in a voice that was both arrogant and devastatingly alluring.

"Done checking me out? Now, tell me-who the fuck are you?"

His words snapped me out of my daze, and I fumbled to form a coherent response. My throat felt dry, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I... I... lost... help." I stammered, feeling utterly humiliated.

He let out an irritated sigh, rubbing his temples as if dealing with me was an inconvenience.

"You know what? Forget I even asked. You look like a damn beggar anyway."

I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could say a word, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a crisp $100 bill, and shoved it into my hand.

"Now, fuck off."

I blinked, staring at the money in disbelief. "Listen-"

But he had already turned on his heel, walking away while muttering something under his breath. I barely caught the words.

"Cheap beggar."

A rush of emotions hit me all at once-confusion, anger, humiliation. My fingers tightened around the bill as I watched his retreating figure. My night had taken an unexpected turn, and I had no idea whether to feel grateful or completely and utterly insulted.

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