Love On Ice: Don’t Leave Me, My Charming Liar

Chapter 221: Her voice broke, raw and full of anguish. "Yes, I seduced him. That's what you want to hear, right? Fine, I'll say it. But let me tell you this-I'm not the 'other woman.' Ethan and I are married. Do you hear me? Married." Nyla pointed at Vicki, her voice trembling with rage. "Our mother-daughter bond? It's been broken for a long time. I don't have a mother. Not anymore. Maybe I never did. Go back to Ryland. Tell him I'm done. If he ever sends you to threaten me again, if he tries to make me do something vile, I'll destroy him. I'll make sure the whole world knows what he's done.

If I can't have peace, neither will he." Her words hung in the air like a blade, cutting deep and leaving no room for argument. Vicki stumbled out of the studio, tears streaking her face. Her hand rested on the doorframe, trembling. "I've been through this before," Vicki whispered. "Why won't you listen? What will you do if Ethan abandons you one day?" Leaning against the door, Nyla let her tears fall silently. She wiped them away, her voice soft but resolute. "If that day comes, I'll disappear. I'll start over somewhere else." Later, Nyla returned home alone.

She sank into the bathtub, her cheek still swollen and red, the events of the day replaying in her mind. She felt drained, stripped of every ounce of energy, her body and soul aching. Her phone chimed, breaking the stillness. Mechanically, she reached for it, her movements sluggish. A message from Ethan lit up the screen: "Something's come up. I'm heading back to the Brooks Mansion, Jackson is coming to pick you up." She stared at the message for a moment before typing a short reply. "I'm already home." She turned off the screen and set the phone aside.

Don't miss fresh updates at gⱯlnσνls․cøm It was hard to tell if Vicki's words had truly gotten to her, but that night, Nyla had a nightmare. In her dream, she suffered a miscarriage. Ethan abandoned her, leaving her alone to fend for herself. She searched desperately for evidence to prove her father's innocence but was framed by someone. The dream felt so vivid, so horrifyingly real, that even after waking, Nyla couldn't shake off the lingering fear and helplessness. An oppressive solitude seemed to envelop her.

At Brooks Mansion, Ethan sat in a chair, his expression as cold and unyielding as ice. Though the youngest of his generation, he carried an authority that demanded respect-or perhaps, fear. Nearby, Ryland shifted uncomfortably, unable to ignore the chilling aura that radiated from his brother. It was as though Ethan had come for a reckoning, either to formally confront him or to get back at him on someone else's behalf. "Have you come to challenge your brother officially?

Do you even know what you're doing?" Roger's voice was sharp, his anger barely restrained as he sat at the head of the room. . . .