Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

Head down, Lizetta reached for another makeup remover pad. As she looked up, the reflection of a man appeared behind her in the mirror.

He stood there, his handsome face etched with a cold sternness.

Lizetta knew all too well he was upset, but her own irritation matched his. She pretended not to notice, leaning closer to the mirror to continue removing her makeup. However, his grip tightened on her shoulder, and he leaned in, pinching her chin, staring down at her reflection with a frosty gaze.

"Not fond of the jewelry I got you, but you seem pretty keen on the tacky flowers and handkerchief that other guy gave you?"

The flowers Jerome had given her were crushed, and Remington had callously tossed them into the trash along with the handkerchief right before they got into the car.

Lizetta was fuming at that moment. But her anger stemmed from Remington humiliating her in front of her colleagues, showing her no respect whatsoever. It wasn't about the flowers or the handkerchief.

His gaze was menacing, and suddenly Lizetta felt a twinge of fear, her brows furrowing as she managed a strained reply, "Let go! I'm about to take a shower; am I supposed to wear a necklace in there?" "Lizetta, don't take me for a fool!"

Did he really look like he couldn't tell when she liked something or not?

Lizetta remained silent, wondering who was really being treated like a fool here. Her lips pressed tightly together, she said no more.

And her silence, like an admission that she preferred Jerome's flowers. Remington's grip tightened, forcing her to look at him as he leaned down and kissed her forcefully.

heart was a turmoil of dark emotions, fully ignited by her today. Because Lizetta kept turning her head, refusing to cooperate,

down on her neck. Each one left a heavy mark, a branding of

a mix of pain and fear, "Remington, what's

her waist, lifting her from the chair, turning her to face him with a cold smirk, "Finally

a sweep of his arm, he knocked the array of cosmetics from the

next second, Lizetta was

the vanity, her

ne

torn operas his hands and feverish

on her skin instantly. She had another round of performances in the next few days, and Dizetta was on the verge

stop biting, I have to be on stage! Remington, are you a dog? You're hurting me! Remington, stop it.

weak, to fearfully trembling, eventually carrying a

was truly scared now, and regretting her actions. She shouldn't have let

she'd secured the plan, and couldn't pretend

Remington had never

this before;

and patient