Eternal Enchantment Tales Facebook ad: “His Cruel Game”

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Three years ago, he saved me from a burning wreck. After that, he became the only light in my world. Until I heard him laugh to his best friend. "Her?" he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "Just a compliant little puppet." Now I knew. Even our fated meeting was a lie. In my arms, I held his iPad. It hummed with every guarded secret of his empire. He used to whisper that the private videos were keepsakes of our love. Now I knew the truth. They were his special gift for my brother's IPO day. He came home late one rainy night, tipsy, his eyes drifting to the date circled in red on the calendar. "Baby," he smiled, a familiar, cruel amusement in his eyes. "I was just thinking about the unforgettable surprise I have planned for you that day." I looked up and smiled back. "What a coincidence. I've prepared quite the surprise for you, too." Vivian's POV "Maxwell, level with us. You never actually fell for Vivian, did you?" A low, mocking chuckle drifted from inside the room. Outside the door, my hand froze in mid-air. The motion of knocking died instantly. Then came that familiar voice-lazy, smooth, and utterly cold. "Fall for her? Vincent is the biggest rival I'll ever have. I live to watch him burn." He paused, as if remarking on the weather. "His sister was merely a convenient pawn." A deafening buzz exploded in my head. My blood ran hot, then ice-cold in an instant. I clutched Maxwell's iPad to my chest - a device he never let leave his side. It held the very lifeblood of the entire Maxwell Corporation. Tonight's meeting was critical. I'd been so worried he might forget this vital thing that I'd rushed here from the yacht, just to deliver it. My every thought had been for him. For Maxwell. But now, I was the punchline to a cosmic joke. The chatter and laughter from inside the room continued, every humiliating word twisting like a knife in my chest. "Ha! I knew it. So the plan's still a go? You're really releasing those videos when Vincent's company rings the bell?" "Of course." Maxwell's voice carried a note of grim satisfaction. I'm just deciding on the perfect delivery method. That day is the gift. I think he's going to love it." Videos... My mind reeled back again. One hour earlier. The master suite of the private yacht was bathed in a soft, intimate light. My hair, a wild tangle, was splayed across his sculpted chest. My voice came out raw, spent. "Please, stop filming." How did Maxwell respond then? His chest shook with a quiet laugh. Leaning in, his hot breath brushed my ear, the cold light of the phone screen washing over my flushed skin. "Good girl.It's just for me. A keepsake, for when I'm away and missing you." He always knew how to make refusal impossible. I had believed it was the ultimate intimacy. Now I knew it was a “special gift,” meticulously wrapped for my brother and me. Three years of tenderness. Starting from that perfectly staged ‘rescue,' to every promise breathed into my ear-it was all an elaborate lie. "You have to admit, Maxwell, it was brilliant. That 'out-of-control' race car crash three years ago. Without that masterful performance, do you think Vivian-that pampered little heiress-would have ever let you play her for three whole years?" Three years ago, a race car spun out of control. He pulled me from the burning wreck like a guardian angel. He was my hero. The only light in my world. Even that meeting had been a lie. The iPad in my hand weighed a ton. I was the pathetic clown in this twisted tragedy. Just an hour earlier, Maxwell had kissed my forehead, that familiar gesture. "I have an important meeting. The captain will take you home. I'll be there as soon as it's over." I'd nodded, believing I was the happiest woman alive. Happy? "Miss?" The waiter's voice pulled me back. I shoved the iPad into his hands, my own trembling violently. "Give this to Maxwell. Please. Just...say you found it. Don't tell him I was here." Before he could reply, I turned and ran, as if escaping, rushing into the elevator.

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His Cruel Game