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His Unwanted Touch: Her Deepest Secret

Chapter 4 Synchronized bruises on the forehead

Word Count: 758    |    Released on: Today at 17:06

knuckles tapping a rhythmic beat on the polished oak of his desk. But his

nnounced, placing an ornate box on the desk. "Lord Benedict Sterling beg

y," he said coldly. "But we will remember this 'offense.' Let them pre

liet. As he turned to leave, he paused. "

" Auguste as

d. "My lord, your head... you di

or. There, on his left temple, was a thumb-sized, purp

ark was undeniably there. He searched his m

tered. A strange feeling, a l

lord," he whispered, "old texts say that some creatures, like a succubus or an imp, leave

oolishness. A succubus, or an imp... would

re into such a remote wood to bathe in the dead o

ilas immediately fell silent. But the id

thought. A 'woman' who could breach a forbidden area, vanish without a trac

ly. Her mind was a chaotic swirl of the night's events-the dark grotto, the pier

he was to the heavy oak wardrobe. As she turned sharply, her

g into the room. "Are you al

ing dizzy, but strangely, the po

acing herself for a tender bump, but as Rose gentl

"There isn't even a mark. Not

hough the sheer force of the impact should have left a nasty welt

g to leave for the barracks. As he pass

hard impact right on his left temple. He was absolutely certain h

t all. It hadn't grown darker, nor had a new mark appeared. There was only that single, ine

!" he

. "My lord,

e estate. Find out if anyone-especially a woman-has suffered a

earch. Everyone in this manor-servants,

ed, immediately left t

he was caught in an invisible net, and some mysterious cre

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His Unwanted Touch: Her Deepest Secret
His Unwanted Touch: Her Deepest Secret
“To fulfill her brother's dying wish, Christal bound her chest and lived as "Master Christian," navigating the treacherous Montgomery estate to secure her marginalized mother's survival. But a single night shattered her fragile charade:Auguste, the heir of the estate, was drugged. In order to save him, she intertwined with him in the dim cave. Yet a bizarre curse had formed between them-the cold, ruthless Auguste began to physically mirror her every bruise and sensation. As he relentlessly tore the estate apart hunting for the "mysterious woman," Christal was forced into his inner circle, playing the role of her brother. The suffocating fear of exposure was compounded when the estate's noblewomen cornered her mother, viciously mocking a buried scandal. They called Christal's late father a lowly bookkeeper and Christal herself a bastard. Christal was completely blindsided. Why was her mother so paralyzed by the mention of the elite Carlisle family? What dark secrets lay behind her own birth? And how could she survive the predatory gaze of Auguste, who was already growing suspiciously obsessed with his cousin's delicate frame? Watching her mother weep in absolute despair, the fear in Christal's heart burned away into cold, hard ambition. She wouldn't just survive the upcoming Royal Trials; she was going to seize ultimate power, uncover the bloody truth of her past, and cut down every noble who dared to trample them.”