Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

Threads of allure, tugging at his heartstrings.

A surge of restless fire shot straight to his lower belly, roaming through his body, turning into an unquenchable heat that surged out through his nostrils.

Remington jerked his head up.

Damn, what had grandmother give him to drink? His nosebleed was flowing as if he’s caught some dreadful disease!

Lizetta lay on the bed, phone in hand. Thinking of Lucian’s room being cleaned up, she decided to google some information about Lucian.

A flood of headlines popped up on the Internet.

#Seraphine Realm’s Racing Prodigy #

#A Whirlwind Life of the First F1 driver #

#Ardentia’s Most Promising Racer #

#23–year–old Lucian Bags a Milestone Point in His F1 Debut, Ready to Return Home#l

Lizetta’s lips curled up as she read, her eyes shining with pride, joy, and envious aspiration.

It wasn’t until she heard noise from the bathroom that she hurriedly flipped her phone face down on the nightstand, pulled the covers to feign sleep.

Remington, toweling off his hair, walked toward the bed, noticed the glowing phone screen, and reached out to

turn it off.

He paused as he inadvertently saw the content on the screen.

The man glanced at the woman on the bed, her eyes tightly closed, his expression indiscernible.

Lizetta, with her eyes closed, stiffened at the sound. Remington definitely knew she was faking sleep.

Just as she was about to open her eyes in annoyance, the man didn’t expose her. Instead, he put down the phone and seemed to head to the balcony. Lizetta opened her eyes to see his blurred figure leaning against the railing, his robe fluttering in the wild wind, with a dot of crimson at his fingertip.

Out there with the lightning and thunder, and he’s lighting up a smoke. When did his nicotine addiction ramp up?

She didn’t give it much thought and closed her eyes again. certain that Remington knew she was pretending to sleep.

The bed dipped behind her, but she didn’t pay it any mind.

After all, they had been married for two years, and even after their intimate moments, Remington would usually sleep in another room.

Tonight, with Fiona watching, they had to sleep together, but she was well aware of their boundaries, they would definitely sleep separately.

Just as she was about to fall into deep sleep again, the man’s strong arms suddenly wrapped around her waist from behind and gently pulled her in.

Lizetta was drawn into the man’s warm embrace, and through the thin fabric, she could clearly feel the scorching heat of his body and the firm lines of his chest and abs.

He had taken off his robe.

The man’s slightly hoarse voice was right by her ear, “Asleep?”

The thunder rumbled again, and while the wind howled outside, the temperature inside rose rapidly

Lizetta instantly awoke, her heart pounding as loud as the thunder outside.

As she was still bewildered, the man’s lower half pressed against her.

A distinct heat pressed against Lizetta’s hip, and her mind went blank.

“Remington.” She stiffened, her voice quivering slightly.

The man’s lips lingered on the tender skin behind her ear, his voice husky to the extreme, “Why so nervous?”

Lizetta tilted her neck to avoid his scorching breath.

“What do you mean?”

Her evasive movements were somewhat adorable, like a proud cat refusing to be docilely petted.

Remington’s lips parted slightly, kissing the sensitive skin behind her ear, his voice huskier than ever.

“Don’t you know why my grandma gave me that soup?”

Lizetta was annoyed, “I let it be because I knew you were frigid!”

In the first year after their marriage, he hadn’t touched her.

Lizetta felt lost. She had tried every shameless seduction tactics.

Yet even when she paraded around him in skimpy clothes, he would still turn a blind eye. Even when she fell into his arms and her towel dropped, leaving her bare on top of him, he stayed as composed as a monk and even offered her a glass of ice water to cool down.

Other men would get a taste and crave more, but even after breaking his celibacy, he barely touched her that year.

If it weren’t for those few times he did, and each lasted so long and exceeded the usual count, she would have suspected he had some kind of issue.

With his level of self–control, he was the bane of Viagra; grandma’s tonic soup was nothing to him.

“Frigid? Ha, I’d be letting you down if I didn’t live up to that expectation!”

As he spoke, he flipped over and pinned Lizetta beneath him, his overwhelming pheromones enveloping her completely.

Lizetta panicked, raising her hands, “Don’t! I don’t want this!”

“Don’t? Weren’t you the one accusing me of not satisfying you, talking about divorce? From today on, let’s make up for it. Four times in one night, is that enough?”

Remington forcefully ripped open the woman’s neckline.

The lightning outside illuminated the woman’s face, making it stand out against the night sky.

Her petite and delicate face was pale, making her eyes look especially pitiful and full of panic.

She truly didn’t want it.

Remington froze; he understood at that moment.

Even if he burned that divorce agreement, her mind was set on splitting up.

The lust in his eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by a frosty edge as he fiercely grasped Lizetta’s small face.

“Who do you want if not me in my bed?”

Lizetta’s eyes brimmed with tears as she glared back at him.

“I don’t want you, that’s for sure! Get off me!” Her nose felt sour as she remembered the nights she had waited for him, how he had left her alone in their bedroom.

Now, when she was finally getting over him and they were about to divorce, why was he provoking her again?

She resisted with every fiber of her being, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Remington’s handsome face was somber as he stared at her intently. Just as Lizetta felt like she was drowning in the man’s oppressive stare, he turned and lay back down.

Lizetta breathed a sigh of relief, though her heart was heavy with an indescribable sadness.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to sleep.

Silence reigned for a long time, and just when she thought Remington had fallen asleep, his icy voice cut through the quiet.Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

“Lizetta, we’re not getting divorced. Dream on!”

Lizetta’s breath hitched and she opened her eyes; it took a moment before she whispered back.

“But…I miss Remi.”

She missed the Remington who used to treat her with tenderness, the one who had cherished her..

She wanted to find her brother again.

Lizetta feared that if they continued this way, they would become unrecognizable to each other, even the warmth in their memories would be lost.

Lizetta spoke softly, and the man behind her said nothing.

She thought he hadn’t heard her, but then she heard the sound of the wall being knocked.

Knock, knock, knock. Knock.

Lizetta’s eyes moistened in an instant.

He was with Evelina; they were all over the trending searches, yet she didn’t cry.

Even when deciding on divorce, she didn’t cry, but now the tears she had held back silently cascaded down like a breached dam.

Her memories went back to when she was eight, nearly beaten to death, leaving her with severe psychological trauma. It was probably Remington who brought her back to the Dashiell family, and Lizetta only trusted and clung to him.

Fiona had arranged her room next to Remington’s, and when nightmares plagued her, making her scream and cry, Remington would rush to her side, comforting her until she calmed down and fell

asleep peacefully in his

arms.

Even with a psychologist’s intervention, her condition didn’t improve. One night, Remington turned over in bed and kicked a lump, which startled him.

23.29

Turning on the lights, he saw the girl sitting on the floor with a pillow, her forehead swollen into a large lump, her eyes brimming with tears.

Back then, Remington was only fourteen with a temper. He nearly lost it and with a grimace, dumped her back in her room.

But the next day, as soon as he fell asleep, there was a rustling behind him again; not daring to come closer, as soon as she was discovered, she would hold a pillow and shrink at the foot of the bed, not daring to make a sound, biting the corner of the pillow as large tears fell.

Out of options, Remington had another bed set up right next to his, with a folding screen in between. Even so, there would always be an extra lump on his bed at night.

His sleeping habits had to change from unruly to well–behaved because of this, and the wildest young master of Zion City spent his whole adolescence with a princess bed in his room, even taking on the role of a nanny at night.

It’s something no one would believe!

They shared that bed for over a year, and the dependence seeped deep into her bones.

Until one morning, Lizetta was thrown out of his room with her blanket while still in her dreams. No matter how much she cried or pleaded, he remained unyielding.

Though they eventually had separate rooms, Lizetta’s bed was placed against the wall next to Remington’s room, headboard to headboard.

With just a wall between them, Lizetta would knock on it before sleep, and Remington would respond. They said goodnight to each other until half a year later when he went abroad for studies.

From ages eight to ten, that was the closest they ever were.

But as siblings grow up, they drifted apart with age; later, Remington’s studies abroad only widened their gap.

His world grew vivid and colorful, and despite her best efforts to catch up, she was pushed to the sidelines, until the night of her eighteenth birthday when everything crumbled to pieces.

But Lizetta remembered, three long knocks and one short knocks. It was her brother telling her.

“Go to sleep, I’m here.”

And now, it was Remington telling her that her brother had always been there.

Yeah, he was there..

It’s just that he refused to love her, like a husband would.

Lizetta’s heart ached with a sour swell..

Perhaps he hadn’t heard her response because again came the knocks, three long and one short.

Remington knocked twice more, and Lizetta slowly raised her hand, tapping back on the headboard.

In the darkness, a sigh echoed, though it was unclear whose it was.

The man raised his hand and pulled Lizetta into his embrace. Her face pressed against his broad chest, and this time she didn’t struggle.

She was compliant and well–behaved.

Like the little girl who loved to cry in his memories.

“Be good, no divorce, okay?”

Remington’s husky voice came from above, his lips lightly kissing the top of her head.

Lizetta’s tears soaked his chest, but she said nothing.

tears

23:29

Her courage had been completely depleted tonight, and she didn’t even know if he was pretending with her again.

Buzz, buzz, buzz. Remington’s phone on the bedside table vibrated.

He moved, and Lizetta immediately reached up to circle his waist.

Remington raised his hand, brushing through her hair gently.

“Go to sleep.”

Lizetta closed her eyes; her breathing gradually became steady.

After a moment, the rustling sound was heard, the phone’s light flashed and then was shielded by his hand, the woman in his arms did not move.

Remington gently pulled Lizetta’s arm away and slowly got off the bed.

The man took the phone into the dressing room, quickly got dressed, and left the room.