Heroes to Hunted - Chapter 15 Reminiscence

***Completed***“I'll marry you if you promise to kiss me every day.”On the harrowing day she lost her family, out of all the men she knew, Marcella didn't expect those words from “Sweet Baby” Tony. She thought he was not interested in her.She had to ask him for the marriage as she wanted to fulfil her sister's last wishes.She got married the day she suffered a horrifying loss.Don DeAngelo's youngest daughter became the wife of Antony Crawford.She didn't wait to think why he wanted to marry her when every men she knew wanted her for who her father was. She trusted him that much.But in a day, she learned that Tony was not so different from other men.What choice can she make?She can throw away the marriage and lose custody of her nephew, or...She chose to be married to him. Their marriage can be a deal. She needed him, he needed her. It's all fine.Except...What does Tony feel? Is their marriage all but a business transaction for him? What is the secret he is hiding? Why can't he reveal it to her?-----*Excerpt*“We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell,” she said looking into his eyes. The alluring mystique behind those blue eyes made her heart skip a beat.How can she hate and love someone this much? She must be missing a part of her brain.In the silence of the dining room, the candle flickered. The curve of his lips widened and in the romantic ambiance, the thin lines around his eyes gave her a thrill.“Quoting Oscar Wilde?” he chuckled comfortably, leaning forward.“Isn't that true in our case?” she asked.She observed him, trying to digest every single expression on his face.He went silent. His lips pressed to a line. His pensive eyes never left hers except for the few seconds when he placed down his cutleries. She still couldn't guess what goes on in that smart brain of his.It is this, she thought. I am a decently adventurous person. He's an adventure. Maybe that's his allure!“Then, Birdie,” he stood up and walked to her.Marcella's back got stiff as she tried to figure out what he was going to do.Also, is that a pet name? Birdie? It's nice. But that came out of nowhere...She followed him with his eyes. He kneeled beside her and held her hand. Only when she felt the warmth of his big hand on hers did she realize that she had been holding her breath for a while.This man is going to be the end of her. It sucks when he does not feel even half of what she feels.“Let's be angels,” he kissed her hand. With a smooth smile that reached his eyes, he looked at her. “Let's be each other's angels, and let's make this world our heaven.”“You are...”Unable to find any words to say to him, she buried her face in her hand. Her chest was heaving as if she ran a marathon.This man surely is going to be the end of her.“What?” he chuckled while teasing her to show her face. “What am I?”“You're a brute, Mr. Crawford. That's what you are,” she said trying to hold her stoic expression to relay her “disapproval” of his methods. But in front of his goofy smile, she lost.She lost, and she didn't feel defeated.She felt delighted in his presence.“Mark my words, Birdie. I am taking you to the White House,” he said.Marcella opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. The determination shining in his eyes...He's not talking about a visit to the White House, is he?No way! No f*cking way!Her eyes widened. But he was smiling sweetly as always. He stood up and leaned to her ear.“Let's have today's kiss on the bed,” he said.Before she could form a resistance, he picked her up and walked up the stairs.Again, Marcell pondered the one question she's been asking a lot lately.Whom did I marry?

It was in the year 2800 of the Midgard calendar. Back then, there was a Overlord who once reigned supreme and had reached the very brink of subduing the world.

They call him Ghost.A name whispered in fear across warzones, black markets, and underworld circles.To the world, he's a phantom—a faceless mercenary who leaves no trace but bodies in his wake.To his enemies, he’s a death sentence.To his brothers-in-arms in Graveyard, he’s family.But to himself... he's a haunted man searching for a past stolen in gunfire and smoke.After a flawless mission deep in the Eastern Province, Ghost returns to the hidden forest base he's called home for sixteen years. Yet the victory is short-lived. His foster father, the commander delivers an unexpected order:“That was your last mission.”Now, Ghost—real name Miles Sterling—must step out of the shadows of war and into a world he’s never known. Guided only by a scarred letter, a fading memory, and the voice of a woman he hasn’t seen since the day everything was taken from him.But war forged more than his body and name.Behind the mask, behind the scars, Miles has another secret.One he’s kept hidden even from his brothers in arms.He’s not just a weapon.He’s a ghost with a fortune—a hidden empire he built in silence, across borders and black markets, forged in strategy and blood.A man of many names, and many shadows.Beneath the bullets, tattoos, and silence lies a truth buried in ashes.And Ghost is about to dig it up—one letter, one enemy, one memory at a time.

Clara Vance had it all.Millions of followers, a beauty empire built on glamour, and a life curated for the camera. But a lost bet with her mother sends her away from a marvelous weekend trip to Mykonos and into the dusty attic of her family’s decaying ancestral manor.The catch was her inheritance. Her task? A dreary clear-out. Her discovery? A centuries-old diary belonging to her great-grandmother, Eleanor Thorne.The ink tells a story of a forgotten history. Eleanor’s forbidden obsession with her guardian and step-uncle, Casimir Guggenheim, a ruthless railroad tycoon with a heart of stone.But when Clara touches the tear-stained pages, the scent of crushed gardenias doesn’t just fill the room, it drags her back to 1879.Trapped in Eleanor’s corseted body, Clara finds herself under the roof of the very man who haunted the diary. To the world, Casimir is a cold, untouchable magnate. To Clara, he’s a puzzle she’s determined to break.The problem? Clara isn’t the timid, fragile girl Casimir remembers. She’s a 21st-century It Girl with no filter, a strategic mind for business, a total lack of respect for Gilded Age propriety and a defiance waiting for trouble to happen. While the original Eleanor was a victim of her station, Clara is ready to burn the cage down.As Clara navigates a world where a single misstep means ruin, scheming relatives see her as a pawn, and a powerful suitor sees her as nothing but a business merger. She realizes the history books were wrong.Rewriting Eleanor’s tragic end is dangerous, especially when she starts falling for the man she was never supposed to have.History says they’re a tragedy. Clara says history is about to get a makeover.