Chapter 5
After leaving the Faulkner family estate, Lira checked into a hotel
She just wanted a good night’s sleep. In the later years of her past life, her depression had gotten so bad that she could barely sleep. It had been ages since she’d slept soundly.
After a hot shower, she switched off her phone, pulled the covers over her head, and fell asleep.
After over twenty hours later, she woke up, and it was already the next evening. She grabbed her phone and powered it on. Missed calls and WhatsApp messages came flooding in. Her phone froze for half a minute before functioning again.
Xander’s messages stood out. The rest were from her so–called friends, the shallow circle of hangers–on. Not a single word from her family. Unbothered. Lira returned Xander’s call
He picked up after just two rings. “Where are you?”
“At a hotel,” she replied. “Just woke up.”
Send me the address,” he said. “I’ll have someone pick you up
He paused and then added, “If you don’t want to stay home, you don’t have to. Just come stay at my place for a few days. I’m out of town on business.”
Clearly, he’d heard about her fallout with her family.
Everyone else assumed she was just throwing a tantrum, but Lira knew she meant every word of
She was
done with the people who didn’t love her.
“Your place is huge, and wish you gone, I’d feel like a ghost rattling around,” she said, sidestepping his offer with a playful excuse. “I’ll stick to the hotel for now. We’ll figure it out when you’re back”
Xander, indulgent as always, didn’t push her. “Alright, I’ll check in when I’m back. Take good care of yourself.”
After the call ended, her phone buzzed again. Xander had sent a hefty transfer, accompanied by a message: “Don’t skimp on what you need.”
y and texted, “Thanks, Uncle Xander.” A fond smile rugged at her lips. Not wanting to worry him, she accepted the money:
Then she scrolled through the rest of her messages, all from her party crowd who urged her to hit the bars and celebrate her release.
In her past life, Lira had been arrogant and reckless, and her friends were mostly trust fund kids from the same privileged circles. Roselyn, by contrast, mingled with poised, well–mannered heiresses.
Her parents always thought she lacked the grace of a real lady. It was one of the reasons they liked her less
Another WhatsApp pinged. It was Erica Gilmore, one of her
“Come e party!”
party Friends.
the message read, followed by the address of a bar
Lira wasn’t planning to respond to those fair–weather friends, except for Erica, who shared a genuine bond with her.
She replied, “Not tonight I haven’t eaten yet.”
Erica texted, “Dinner’s on me. Want me to come get you?”
Lira sent her the location. Im here.”
“Got it. On my way,” Erica responded.
She pocketed her phone and tiptoed–to a door, rapping lightly.
“Come in,” someone answered.
She cracked the door open, peeking inside.
Her cousin, Brent, was lying on his stomach, shirtless, his broad shoulders and narrow waist etched with lean muscle, each line sharp as if drawn by an antist’s hand. Against the dark blue sheets, he looked like he’d stepped out of a comic book,
י
Fancy Novel -Shorts & Novels
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(Chapter 5
Even the crisscrossed whip marks
marks on his
his back, raw and brutal, added a haunting kind of beauty.
“Lira texted me back,” Erica said, updating him. I’m heading to her hotel to pick her up for dinner.”
Brent picked up on the key detail. “She’s staying at a hotel?
“Huh?” Erica didn’t think it was a big deal. “She’s been through hell, so of course she’d clash with her parents when she got back. They’re so biased, they’d never scold Roselyn. Lira storming our makes total sense.”
To her, Lira not moving out would have been more su
Brent frowned, clearly displeased.
surprising.
Scared, Erica ducked out of the room. “Well, Brent, I’m heading out.”
“Wait for me outside,” Brent said.
Lira walked out of the hotel and saw a big black Mercedes parked in front.
A very noticeable man leaning against it.
He wore a sharply tailored indigo shin, its color as deep as ink. The top two buttons were undone, revealing a hint of his collarbone.
He leaned against pre polished car door, his legs casually crossed, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers.
Smoke curled upward, swiding around his chiseled face.
With narrowed eyes, as if seeing through the smoke, he looked at her with a hint of indifference, yet hiding deep thoughts that others couldn’t easily grasp
Lira paused in her steps.
The man spoke, and smoke came out with his voice, “Don’t know me?”
