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.

the coveted heir to the Barker family’s opulence, The family’s destiny was now

cane met the floor, the echo a manifestation of her

discovered the culprit responsible for the malicious act against Darin? Their

point to Marcus, Regrettably,

a revelation that left Camilla aghast,

The God’s favored one? How, pray tell, did this transpire? What grievance between our

the air, as the butler speculated, “A dubious enigna, indeed, Marcus, a being both fierce and feared,

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

realm of interference,

veracity shall only grace us upon the

of elevated heels heralded an entrant into the

contrast to her ailing son’s paleness, Rhea emanated an air of assurance and