Heartfelt Heroines Hub Facebook ad: “Warning: This Might Leave You Breathless!”

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Once again, Ethan Pierce pinned me down and took what he wanted. When it was over, he stared at my face and whispered another woman's name. "Yolanda, I love you." Yolanda Reed was the woman he truly loved. And I had been his secret lover for eight years. I thought eight years by his side would finally make him love me. But the moment Yolanda came back, he got down on one knee and proposed on live television. Ethan even made me, his assistant, present the engagement ring. When I walked onstage holding the box, Yolanda leaned close to my ear and whispered with a soft laugh. "Thanks for warming his bed for eight years. Now it's time to give him back to his rightful owner." The crowd erupted in applause. The lights were blinding. And that man who had me pinned beneath him just last night didn't spare me a single glance as he kissed Yolanda passionately. My heart turned to ash. It was finally time to leave. Sienna POV Ethan Pierce's control over my body was as absolute as ever. In the dark, castle-like master bedroom, he'd just finished another empty, emotionless round. I barely had time to take the pill from the nightstand before exhaustion shut my eyes. When I woke again, it was already the next morning. A sharp ringtone jolted me awake. I pulled on a robe and walked to the living room, only to find Ethan's special assistant standing there with a freshly printed legal contract in hand. "Miss Sienna Hayes, Mr. Pierce has instructed you to sign this copyright transfer agreement." The assistant's voice was all business, devoid of any warmth. I was a children's book author. During these eight years by Ethan's side, I had written countless warm and healing fairy tales under the pen name Starlight. The worlds I created were filled with light, miracles, and unwavering love. But in reality, I was just Ethan's secret lover who could never see the light of day. I lowered my gaze to the contract. "The Deer Above the Clouds." This was my latest full-length fairy tale, three years in the making, my heart and soul poured into every word. And in the transferee column, two words were printed clearly. Yolanda Reed. "What is this supposed to mean?" My fingertips went ice-cold instantly. My voice trembled uncontrollably. Ethan emerged from his study wearing an impeccably tailored dark suit, his features cold and sharp, radiating aristocratic hauteur. "Exactly what it says." He spoke casually, his tone matter-of-fact. "Yolanda's depression has gotten worse recently. She needs an opportunity to return to the public eye. This fairy tale has a very healing tone. Publishing it under her name will be good for both her condition and her image." My brain exploded with a roar. I stared in disbelief at this man I had loved for eight years. "Ethan, that's my life's work! Every single word, every single story. I stayed up countless nights writing it. Yolanda hasn't even read it. What gives you the right to hand it over to her?" Yolanda Reed, Ethan's first love, the woman he cherished most. A year ago, Yolanda's career abroad hit rock bottom, and she came back carrying the label of "depression." From that day on, my life became absolute hell. Whenever Yolanda was the slightest bit unhappy, Ethan would trample me underfoot without hesitation. Ethan frowned slightly, as if displeased by my resistance. "Sienna, don't be unreasonable. You write fairy tales to make money, don't you? I'll compensate you ten times the royalties for this book. Yolanda is mentally fragile right now. She needs applause and flowers to rebuild her confidence. You're just a ghostwriter. What use do you have for fame?" I bit down hard on my lower lip until I tasted blood. Ten times compensation? To me, fairy tales were my only refuge in this broken life. They were my soul. They were the light that kept me alive. But Ethan was about to rip out my soul with casual ease and stitch it onto Yolanda's false shell. "I don't want the money." I looked at him. "I wrote this fairy tale for Oliver. I will never give it to anyone, especially not Yolanda!" Oliver, Oliver Hayes, my younger brother who had autism. Hearing my refusal, Ethan's gaze turned ice-cold in an instant. He stepped forward, his long fingers gripping my chin with force enough to crush bone. "What makes you think you have the right to negotiate with me?" Ethan looked down at me from above, his voice laced with frost. "Everything you and your brother have had these past years. Who do you think paid for it? Now Yolanda needs it. So you'll give it to her." My heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand. I couldn't breathe from the pain. Eight years. When I was eighteen, my parents died, leaving me alone with my autistic brother with nowhere to turn. Ethan descended like an angel and gave me a home. I thought it was salvation, so I gave him my entire heart, my entire life. I was the quiet, obedient woman by day and the bedmate he could take at will by night. I thought if I was good enough, if I loved him enough, someday I could melt this iceberg. Even in bed, in his most passionate moments, he had kissed my forehead and called my name. Turned out it was all just a dream. A tear fell from my eye onto the back of Ethan's hand, scalding him into a brief pause. But he quickly released me in disgust. "Sign it." Ethan took the fountain pen his assistant handed him and threw it on the coffee table. "Don't make me use other methods. You know Oliver is still at the care facility." My whole body trembled. He was threatening me with my brother. I closed my eyes as tears slid down my cheeks. Eight years of devotion, and in the end, all I got was a calculated robbery with a price tag. My hand shook as I picked up the pen and signed my name on the agreement. Every stroke felt like carving flesh from my own body.

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🔥Warning: This Might Leave You Breathless! 😱