Burning Passion: Love Never Die

In the realm of Preagend, emerged a crucial moment. Darin, subjected to the embrace of an extensive ten-hour surgery, emerged as a resilient warrior from the theater of operation.

Once the ordeal was concluded, as Darin was gently ushered forth, Camilla Barker, his anxious mother, hastened toward the threshold, her plea dripping with apprehension.

“Doctor, I implore you to save my son.”

The surgeon slowly removed his mask, his solemn expression revealing the harsh reality.

“Mrs. Barker, I regret to inform you that your son’s legs have been severely injured. He will need a wheelchair due to shattered knee fractures. We tried our best, but the damage was extensive.”

“What?! A life confined to a wheelchair?”

The words unfurled like a storm within her, Camilla’s equilibrium faltering, consciousness itself teetering on the precipice. Swiftly, the waiting butler swooped in, a lifeline in the tempest, beseeching, “Mrs. Barker, hold on, hold on. Time passed in the ward as Darin slept, vulnerable yet peaceful. Camilla awoke beside him, her helplessness weighing heavily on her soul after her unconsciousness.

of her thirty-five years, the coveted heir to the Barker family’s opulence, The family’s destiny was now his

met the floor, the echo a manifestation

for the malicious act against Darin? Their retribution shall unfold

point to Marcus, Regrettably, we stand

left

How, pray tell, did this

the air, as the butler speculated, “A dubious enigna, indeed, Marcus, a being both fierce and feared, yet tethered to his principles. Cruelty borne without cause eludes comprehension.

lapsed into silence, her contemplation mirroring the butler’s sagacious words. Gazing upon her slumbering son, a heightened unease

of interference, never inclined toward the labyrinth

grace us upon the

the resonance of elevated heels heralded

emanated an air of assurance and elegance. Her hair, meticulously curled, and her flawless makeup bestowed upon her an aura befitting