Filed To Story: The Broken-Hearted She and The Icy He Book PDF Free
She had sworn she would claim him.
But then Adeline had stolen him first.
The thought drove her mad. She had even hammered on the door through the night, but Adeline had refused to let Victor open up, clinging to him instead. Her hatred had only burned hotter.
With the help of a middle-aged businessman who had once kept her, Marilyn had tampered with the hotel’s security footage. She had crouched outside, listening for hours, hearing Victor’s relentless struggle against the drug. She was certain he wouldn’t wake any time soon.
So she had tried her chance, knocking on the door at dawn. As expected, it was Adeline who opened it.
Marilyn’s white powder had blinded her, and the man she had brought along dragged Adeline down the hall toward a public restroom. Marilyn coldly told him, “Do whatever you want with her.”
The man had practically drooled over Adeline’s stunning face, but before he could rip her dress, a cleaning maid stormed in with a mop, striking him hard and threatening to call the police. He panicked and fled, leaving Adeline behind.
Marilyn heard his scream faintly and realized Adeline had escaped violation. Her fury boiled, but she didn’t linger. She had more important prey-Victor.
She slipped back into the hotel room.
From what she had overheard, the lights had never turned on inside. Victor had only said he needed help, that he would take responsibility. They probably hadn’t even seen each other clearly.
If she claimed it was her body that saved him, he would have no choice but to take responsibility.
Smirking, she pulled out the scissors she had brought, slicing her own clothes. She pinched her skin hard- enough to leave marks.
Victor was still asleep, his body heavy from the night’s torment. Her eyes gleamed as she decided to take the next step-give herself to him outright.
He lay there in nothing but shorts, half-covered by a blanket. She reached to pull it away…
And his eyes snapped open.
Those deep, black eyes locked onto her, sharp as blades, cutting straight through her lies.
Her heart lurched.
For a moment, she shrank back, her fingers trembling as she withdrew her hand.
But then she remembered-if she insisted it had been her last night, he would have no choice but to take her as his.
Quickly regaining her composure, she crossed her arms, lowering her lashes with feigned shyness. “Victor, I… I’m already yours. Last night, you were so fierce. I still ache all over. It… it was my first time.”
She stole a glance at him through the corner of her eye.
And her heart skipped. His face was too perfect-refined features, eyes like obsidian séas that seemed to swallow her whole.
Like James, he carried the dignity of an old, noble family. But where James’s aura was sharp and commanding, Victor’s was more restrained, a quiet strength that seemed carved from flawless jade.
A gentleman beyond compare.
And his appearance was the least of his advantages.
He was the second son of the powerful Luke family, a man born to fortune.
But he was more than his bloodline-an acclaimed scientific mind, head of his own tech company, owner of patents that could fund lifetimes.
Even without the Luke family, Victor was already a man untouchable.
And Marilyn, burning with greed, would do anything to tether herself to him.
The more Marilyn looked at Victor, the more she felt she had struck gold.
But as she secretly admired him, Victor’s eyes swept over her in turn-and disappointment struck him. hard.
It wasn’t her looks. By most standards, Marilyn was beautiful, the sort of woman wealthy men would be willing to keep.
What repelled him was the sharp calculation in her gaze.
Last night, drugged and burning, he had lost himself in a stranger’s arms. He hadn’t seen her face, but her presence-her body-had drawn him in. Even after the haze should have cleared, he hadn’t been able to stop. He had thought that whoever she was, she must at least feel… right.
But Marilyn didn’t. Not at all.
“Victor, I…”
She knew making him believe she was the woman from last night was only the first step. To secure her position in the Luke family, she would need his child.
Her face tilted up, feigning softness as she pressed against him, her pale hand circling over his chest in slow, suggestive strokes.
“Don’t touch me.”
His rejection was immediate and sharp. He flung her hand away with enough force to send her tumbling off the bed, sprawling gracelessly on the floor.
Marilyn froze, stunned.
Then fury rose, scorching through her chest.
She had counted-he’d taken Adeline five times at least last night, unable to stop himself. And yet when she so much as laid a hand on him, he cast her aside like filth?
Why her? Why not her?
The humiliation burned, but she swallowed it back. She knew too well that men didn’t want hysterics; they wanted softness. So she bit down on her anger, painting her face with wounded innocence,
“I…”
Victor, meanwhile, was unsettled by himself.
There was no denying how deeply he’d lost control last night. He had been consumed by that woman’s body, by something about her that had felt impossibly right.
And yet now, Marilyn’s touch disgusted him.
Could it be that he’d only, been under the influence, that the drugs had overridden his revulsion toward women? That sober, he was simply reverting to the way he had always been-detached, untouched, unwilling?
Confusion lingered, but he settled on that explanation.
Still, no matter what, he had taken a woman last night. He had vowed to take responsibility. Even if he could never feel desire for her again, he would not abandon that promise.
“Earlier… I’m sorry. Last night was my fault. I said I would take responsibility, and I will.”
Marilyn’s heart soared. The shame of being thrown down, the bitterness of rejection-all of it was washed away in the flood of triumph.
All her life, her aunt Holly had overshadowed her. Holly had money, homes, success-and worst of all, had taken in Adeline, stealing what should have been Marilyn’s inheritance.
Her parents had always said it: her father was the rightful heir, her aunt was nothing but a useless girl, and her wealth should belong to them. Yet Holly had been cold and selfish, even throwing them out when they tried to move into her villa.
Marilyn hated her aunt. She hated her whole family.
But soon she would be the Luke family’s second young mistress. Soon she would crush Holly beneath her heel and watch her beg.
“What’s your name?”
Victor’s voice snapped her back. She straightened quickly, softening her tone. “Marilyn.”
He gave only a faint nod, his obsidian eyes as cold and unreadable as still water.
After a long pause, his voice came again, even colder. “You should go.”
“I…..”
She stiffened. Of course she didn’t want to leave. The Luke family was a fortress-marrying into it required more than a man’s word. She needed to secure her place before being cast aside.
She lowered her gaze, her torn clothing on display. “My clothes are ruined. I can’t go out like this. And… there are so many marks on me. I can’t go home. If my mother finds out what happened, she’ll tear me apart. Victor, I’m begging you-don’t send me away.”
Everyone has their tastes.
Some men love fragile girls who cry at the drop of a hat, eyes shimmering with tears. But others find such women insincere, too practiced, too manipulative.
Victor belonged to the latter. He had no patience for weepy, pleading theatrics.
Still, last night had been his fault. Whatever his feelings, he would not shirk responsibility.
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.