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No Divorce, Only Widowhood: His Possession

Chapter 3 3

Word Count: 993 | Released on: 08/01/2026

Serena stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, wrapped tightly in her silk robe. O

billowed out, carrying the scent

lean muscle and scars-faint white lines across his ribs, a jagged mark on his should

canter on the dresser and poured two fingers of amber liquid.

he tu

k. He just cro

d toward the bed. Her legs felt heavy, like she was wading through

reached out and untied the sash of her robe. He di

ms over her chest, a reflex of shame. She felt exp

her arms down to her sides. His gr

de," he c

ft words. No gentle caresses to warm her up. He moved over he

soft Egyptian cotton sheets. Even in the dim light, she wouldn't risk him seeing the in

n. It was a claiming. His lips were hard, his t

Her mind drifted, unbidden, to the restaurant. To Harris

n sto

elbows. His eyes were black holes in the di

me," he

used her e

He shifted, his hips pressing harder agai

," she

iction that dragged a gasp f

ve him that satisfaction. Not when

ess was worse. He waited. He had all the pat

warned. Low

tear escaped the corner of her eye and tracked

tion of a second. He lowered his head and kissed the tear away. His lips lingered

the edge of the bed, his back to her, broad and impenetrab

ing into a ball on the far side of the massi

nto the night air. She watched the silhouette of him lighting a ciga

as lead. Within minutes, the emotional toll of

he slow rhythm of deep sleep. He stubbed out the ci

ed down at her. In sleep, the tension had

oming on her upper arm-where she ha

, his jaw

ica salve. He sat on the edge of the bed, moving with a ghost-

omething in her s

ering in mid-air. He waite

s thumb circled the dark mark, his touch infinitely lighter than it had been

back up, tucking it

ed up his phone. A message from Gavi

vy have been purchased. Exclusive rights transferre

a single word

in the darkness. He didn't touch her. He just lay there,

Chapter End

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No Divorce, Only Widowhood: His Possession

Jun Shangye Modern

“I went to The Ivy to return a box of scripts and hoodies, hoping to finally bury my past with movie star Harrison Knox. I just wanted to be a good wife to Julian Sterling and keep my family's business merger intact. But Harrison had other plans. He staged a paparazzi ambush, pulling me into a fake embrace just as the cameras flashed. By the time I got home to our Bel Air estate, the headline "Harrison Knox Heartbroken? Tearful Reunion with Serena Vance" was already trending worldwide. The fallout was brutal. My father called, roaring that the stock was in freefall and threatening to stop my mother's medical payments if I didn't keep Julian happy. My movie funding was pulled, leaving me to pawn my Birkin bags just to pay my staff. Even worse, Julian's cold indifference turned into a sharp, quiet rage. He heard me tell a friend that our marriage felt like a transaction, and his response was to toss a black Centurion card at my feet like I was something he'd bought at an auction. I was trapped between a narcissist who wanted to use my trauma for his next script and a father who saw me as nothing but a bargaining chip. Even Julian, the man who secretly bought my movie rights through a shell company to protect me, believed I was still screaming my ex's name in my sleep. When my family finally demanded I lie and accuse Julian of domestic abuse to secure a settlement, I realized I had nothing left to lose. I walked away from the Vance name, deleted every memory of Harrison, and stood at the edge of the Pacific Ocean ready to let the tide take me. But Julian didn't come for a divorce. He found me in the dark, his coat heavy on my shoulders and his eyes burning with a possessive fire. "There is no divorce in the Sterling family," he whispered against my ear. "There is only widowhood. You are mine, Serena, until one of us is in the ground."”