Even Suicide Won't Make Me Love You

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The red dress bled crimson under the shimmering chandeliers, like an omen of a dark ritual. Lina stood at the center of the gala, her champagne glass trembling slightly in hand. She had just seen the man who once vowed eternal love entwined in a kiss with her closest friend on the terrace. Candles flickered, as if even the air was mocking her. Staggering backward, she collided into a familiar figure—Vincent, her most trusted bodyguard, the shadow that had never left her side for three years. "You were supposed to protect me," she whispered, voice breaking, tears glistening in her eyes. He lowered his gaze, gripping her arm with a coldness like leather gloves. "It's not her fault." The words cut deeper than any blade. Amidst the murmuring crowd, Wendy approached with slow, deliberate steps. Her fingertip brushed Lina’s shoulder. "Poor little actress. Aren't you done performing yet?" Off-balance, Lina fell hard to the ground—her heel snapped, wine spilling like blood across the floor. But before the gasps faded, Vincent swept her into his arms, carried her through the stunned crowd, and vanished into the depths of the night. In an abandoned warehouse, chains dangled from rusted beams. Raindrops pelted through holes in the roof. They beat her, tore at her dress, laughed at her so-called status—a lie, they said, that she was only a foster daughter. Bruised and bleeding at the mouth, she suddenly smiled. "I'm just... finishing my job." Three days later, she climbed out of the hospital window, bandages wrapped around her broken body, a ghost refusing to die. Through the glass of a corner café, she saw it—Vincent gently peeling a strawberry for Wendy, whispering tenderly, his eyes soft with affection. Her phone vibrated. A secure email unlocked automatically: 【Legal Sole Heir of Lin Corporation: Lina Lin, DNA Match 99.98%】 She was the true heiress. And those two? Mere puppets in a conspiracy. Wendy sensed her presence, stepped outside, and leaned close, red lips brushing Lina’s ear: "Your name, your fortune, and the man you loved… Now, they’re all mine." Lina slowly raised her hand, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. Her gaze turned icy, sharp as frost-laced steel. "You're right," she whispered. "But you forgot one thing—" "Hunters always strike last." As the wind rose, she turned and walked into the dark alley. Behind her, one neon light flickered and died. The game had begun. Whoever moves first… dies first. 😢 One misunderstanding, one wrong name… and they lost the love of a lifetime. 💔The truth goes deeper—binge the full series on Playlet! 😍
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emotionDushifemale frequency
#emotion #Dushi #female frequency
Publish：2025-10-16
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