How Does He Played Me End?

Olivia’s POV The moment Armando left, the dam broke. I sobbed into the silence, my chest heaving with the weight of everything I’d pushed down for so long. I wanted to hold him tight. To kiss him and to tell him how much I loved him and how much I wanted his protection but I just couldn’t because I didn’t trust anyone else and because I never wanted anything to do with love after James. I hated myself for pushing him away. But more than that, I hated that I felt anything for him at all. I sat there, drowning in the storm of my own heart, knowing that love was a battlefield I might never cross again, and yet, for the first time, I wished I had the courage to try. Armando’s POV Back in my study, I poured myself a glass of whiskey, my hand trembling as I lit a cigarette. The tears came slowly at first, hot and unfamiliar against my skin. I hadn’t cried since I was ten years old. But tonight, I wept. For her. For me. For everything we could never be.

He said he loved her, but he chose 'her' every time. He married her, but spent his nights drinking with someone else. She gave up everything for him. Her dreams. Her time. Her heart. And in return? Betrayal served with a smile. But now, she’s done crying. Done begging. Done being the quiet, loyal wife who waits. He forgot their love… now he’ll remember her wrath. This isn’t just goodbye... it’s payback. She doesn’t want his money, his pity, or his promises. She wants revenge. And she’s about to take everything he thought she’d never touch. Love betrayed the wrong woman. Now she’s coming back, not to forgive, but to destroy.

Eighteen and desperate due to my mother's illness, I enter the orbit of Enzo Lombardi, a powerful, feared mafia boss. He treats me with impossible sweetness, and I find myself sinking into his possessive love and lavish spoiling. Everything changes the day a woman named Isabella Gallo shows up. She claims she's the one Enzo truly loves, and she laughs as she slides a two-million-dollar check across the table, demanding that I leave him. I turn down the money. She then suggests we both send him a message at the same time and see who he cares about more. Holding on to one last bit of hope, I text Enzo that I'm in a car accident. Isabella, on the other hand, tells him her plane is about to land. I wait for his reply, but nothing comes. Instead, I watch as Isabella picks up his call. At that moment, I understood it was time for me to go.

On my five-hundred-and-twentieth flight into Chicago, my boyfriend finally came to the airport for me. He held a bouquet of air-flown Blue Moon roses, and the diamond ring inside the velvet box caught the terminal lights. The moment he dropped to one knee, I heard the shocked gasps around us. “Eliana Lowe,” he said, his gray-blue eyes lifted to mine. “Marry me.” My fingers tightened around the handle of my suitcase. I held out my hand, my voice already shaking. "Luca, we--" The ring had barely slid over my finger when Luca laughed. He wasn't looking at me anymore. He was looking over my shoulder at the row of black SUVs idling by the curb. "Told you she'd say yes. Hand over the key to Warehouse Three." Laughter burst from the SUVs. Luca's circle spilled into view: casino managers, dock supervisors, rich kids who lived off the Moretti name, and Vivian Gray at the front in pale fur, laughing hard enough to wipe at the corner of her eye. “No wonder she stayed at your heels for ten years. If I had a pet this obedient, I wouldn’t have the heart to throw it out either.” Luca smiled and patted my head soothingly.“Eliana, it was just a joke. Don't be angry. I’ll make it up to you later.” I looked at the ring on my finger, then at the people laughing behind him. For ten years, I had played along with his games. This time, I didn’t want to anymore.

Three years ago, my girlfriend suffered severe post-traumatic stress after saving my life. She later had a speech impairment that kept her from speaking normally. To cure her, I take on three jobs a day and survive on only bread and water just to come up with the money for her therapy and speech recovery treatment. I happen to be working part-time as a cocktail party waiter one evening when I see my girlfriend, who supposedly has a speech impairment, standing in a fancy dress and being fawned over by the crowd around her. Everyone is calling her "Ms. Holden" and "the heiress of the Holden family". But how can an orphan like her possibly be an heiress?

“The one person who makes my life worth living is dying. . .Kelvin is sick with lung cancer and the doctors say he's going to die if we do not begin his treatment immediately," Zara blurted out. “His treatment costs twelve thousand US dollars for the first six months. Now I'm going to lose Kelvin because I can not arrange the money that is needed for his treatment. He's dying and I'm helpless," Zara cried. "Zara? What if I told you that I have the solution to your problem? My company is dying. The only way to save it is to get married and I do not want to do that right now. I am willing to pay the bills you need if you become my fake wife. So the question is, will you, Zara Lawman, accept to be my fake wife?" ___________________________________________________ When love plays a cruel game, what will they do? In the aim to save her beloved Kelvin from dying, Zara accepts a contract marriage. In order to save his company, Oliver takes a fake wife. Everything goes as planned until Zara starts falling for Oliver . Meanwhile, Kelvin’s body starts rejecting treatment. As hard as Zara tries not to love Oliver, she finds herself dreaming of only him. This makes her miserable. As hard as Oliver tries not to fall for Zara who he believes loves her boyfriend, he finds himself wanting only her. Things begin to go south when Vanessa— Oliver's nemesis—does her possible best to destroy whatever he has with Zara. At the same time, Kelvin finds out the truth about Zara’s feelings. Now Zara is forced to chose who she will keep loving and Oliver is forced to do what he believes is the right thing, terminate the contract wedding. Meanwhile, Kelvin is dying. . .