Dark Gathering Chapter 40

Two hearts who meet almost a thousand years back are forced apart by the cruel hands of death who take away one of them. The other vows to bring his beloved back, which he did, but had to pay a price. One thousand years later, Ariel is found regaining consciousness after the supposed coma she had been in. She finds herself in an unknown room with no recollection of her memories, and is forced to live with the cold hearted Damien. What will happen when she realizes who she is?

His face said it all—the lone scar running down his cheek, a jagged reminder of a past shrouded in blood and violence. His cold, calculating eyes never left me, watching from the window across the street, tracking my every movement like I was nothing more than prey. He was bad news, the kind of danger that should have sent me running. But there was something about him, something dark, that pulled me in—like a moth drawn to a flame. Faith had no idea what she was getting herself into when she first crossed his path. The warnings were clear, the whispers of a bloodthirsty secret that was supposed to be a myth—until she met him. Now, as she feels the grip of his obsession tighten around her, she can’t escape. He’s not just watching her; he’s consumed by her. She could feel it in the way his eyes lingered, in the way he hovered just out of reach, his presence haunting her every step. She should have run when she had the chance. But now, trapped in his world, there’s no escape. Faith is the light in his suffocating darkness, the one thing that keeps him tethered to the edge of humanity. But the question remains—can he control the monster inside him long enough to keep her safe, or will his hunger consume them both? The flame burns brighter. The danger grows closer. And as the nights grow colder, Faith’s only hope is that he can keep his darkest urges in check. Because if he can’t… she will become the next victim of his insatiable thirst.

I married Mason Fleming, who comes from a prestigious family with a long line of lawyers, at 19. For over 20 years, I devoted myself fully to our home by raising our child, keeping the household together, and supporting his career. Now I'm 40, and he cheats on me. Friends and relatives try to advise me. "Your husband is handsome and successful. He even lets you manage the money he earns. Compared to most men, he's considered one of the good ones." In other words, they want me to turn a blind eye and continue playing the role of a "good wife" to maintain appearances. But I can't keep up with the act anymore.

As I was cleaning up the house, I noticed something had fallen out of the cabinet my wife always kept locked tight. I remembered Megan's constant warnings. "That cabinet holds all our family's important records. If anything gets lost, there's no getting it back. Just leave it alone and don't touch it." Worried something valuable might have fallen out, I rushed to pick it up. But what I found was a thick stack of remittance slips. From forty years ago to now, every month, my wife had been sending money to the same account. And that's when it hit me. My wife had been lying to me. The money I'd been pouring into this family had been flowing right out, into the hands of someone else.

I was with a fishmonger for seven years. Every night, he pinned me beneath him, reckless and wild. Until one day, he took off his bloodstained apron and came clean–he was getting engaged to Sophia, the Bilotti heiress. Only then did I learn that he was the Don of the Colleo family. “Hahaha! You fooled around with Ms. Mancini for seven years, only to take another delicate young lady’s hand in marriage. Surely, she’s going to come at you.” “Don Colleo, you should keep things sweet with her.” His men’s laughter echoed in my ears. “What’s the rush? I’ve broken her well enough these past seven years. If you don’t mind, you can have her for a couple of days. Evelyn… flexible.” On the day of Vincent’s engagement party, I handed the evidence of his crimes to the police. As the sirens ripped open the city night, someone called out my name. I smiled and leaped from the eighteenth floor.

At a family gathering, my fiancée gently wiped her recently returned childhood friend’s mouth with a tissue right in front of me. “Sorry about that. Clairy had always been this thoughtful.” I nodded, then turned to her younger sister. I draped my jacket over her shoulders and fed her the shrimp I had just peeled. “If she was so thoughtful, I could not fall short on courtesy either.”