That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate.
The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life
Between Ruin And Resolve: My Ex-Husband's Regret
Rejected No More: I Am Way Out Of Your League, Darling!
Don't Leave Me, Mate
Marrying A Secret Zillionaire: Happy Ever After
Requiem of A Broken Heart
My Coldhearted Ex Demands A Remarriage
His Unwanted Wife, The World's Coveted Genius
Pampered By The Ruthless Underground Boss
Dinner is warm and perfect, just like George.
He sits across from me, smiling that smile that melts my heart. His blue eyes are bright under the soft glow of the candles. The table is set with all my favorite dishes - roasted chicken, buttery mashed potatoes, and fresh salad.
"This is wonderful," I say, cutting into the chicken. "You didn't have to do all this."
George grins. "I wanted to. You deserve it, Genevieve."
I blush, looking down at my plate. After all these years, he still makes me feel special.
"How was work today?" he asks, pouring more wine into my glass.
"Busy, but good," I say. "We closed that big deal I told you about."
"That's great." He lifts his glass. "To my brilliant wife."
We clink glasses, and I take a sip of the rich red wine. The taste is smooth, and I savor it.
George talks about his day, telling me stories that make me laugh. The sound of our voices fills the room, warm and comforting.
But then, as I take another sip of wine, a strange feeling washes over me.
Dizziness.
It starts small, like the world is tilting just a little.
I blink, trying to shake it off.
"You okay?" George asks, his brows drawing together.
"I think... I think I had too much wine," I say with a weak laugh.
"You lightweight," he teases, but his smile seems tighter now.
The dizziness grows. My head feels heavy, and my vision blurs around the edges.
"I don't..." My words slur. "I don't feel right."
George stands, his chair scraping against the floor. He moves toward me, his face calm. Too calm.
"I've got you," he says softly.
But there's something in his voice that makes my skin crawl.
I try to stand, but my legs won't work. The room spins faster, colors blending into a hazy mess.
"George..." I whisper, my heart racing. "What's happening?"
His face is the last thing I see before darkness closes in.
That face. Calm. Cold.
And then his voice, cutting through the blackness like a knife.
"I can't pretend to love you anymore. With you gone, your wealth and the company will be mine."
---
I wake up to motion.
The hum of an engine vibrates through my body. My eyes flutter open, and for a moment, everything is blurry.
Where am I?
The dashboard of my car comes into focus. The steering wheel is right in front of me, my hands resting on it.
But I'm not driving.
My heart pounds.
I try to move, but my body won't listen. My arms are heavy, my legs useless. Panic grips me as I realize I'm completely paralyzed.
The car speeds down a dark, empty road. Trees blur past on either side.
What's happening?