'Forgiveness is the kindness you offer to both the one who hurt you and yourself, a redemption for your conscience and inner peace.'
You could say she's too quick to forgive, too willing to let go. But what joy does holding onto hatred bring when the only person it destroy was her? If forgiveness was the way forward, then why not take it?
She knew what she was getting herself into, yet she still showed up.
His pale body lied on a bed too small for his height. His head, once full of thick hair, was now bare. The strong hands that once held power were weak, struggling even to lift their own weight. Those same hands… the ones that had struck her before. Twice, he attempted to lift them. Twice, he failed .
June leaned in, her ear close to his lips, watching him struggled to voice his words.
"I don't know if I'll make it," he wheezed between coughs, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I want to make things right. I want to spend time with you… catch up on the years we've lost. Princess, Daddy is sorry for hurting you. I just… I just want you to be happy."
Her chest tightened, but she steadied herself. She slide a hand under his head, adjusting him gently.
"Get through this first. After that… we'll start a new page."
Her voice was soft, but her words carry weight. A small, tired smile formed on her lips before she signaled the nurses to take him to the ICU.
As their father was wheeled away into the room of many miracles, June and Samantha stood side by side, their hands clasped together.
"Thank you," Samantha whispered, pressing herself into June's side.
"Okay, that's enough," June muttered , pulling away. Her heart was open to change, but change doesn't happen in a day. Still, Samantha was just a cute little doll, it's hard not to love her.
A soft ping from a phone broke the moment.
Samantha's fingers tightened around her device before she quickly tossed it behind her back. But June's eyes were sharp, catching the guilty flicker in her expression.
"What was that?" June asked , her tone low, suspicious.
"It's nothing," Samantha lied, her lips pulling into a tight, unconvincing smile.
June didn't buy it for a second. Before Samantha could react, the phone was already in June's hands, her eyes scanning the message. Then..
"You loaned money from a shark club?!"
Her voice rang through the hospital, drawing the attention of several sitters nearby. A few of them pressed a finger to their lips, shushing her.
June grabbed Samantha's wrist, dragging her to a quieter spot.
"Are you insane? Do you even know how these people operate?" she hissed.
Samantha shrugged . "Of course, I do. But it was urgent. The money was needed for Dad's surgery."
"You should've called me! I could have given you the money!"
"I didn't think you would lend it to me," Samantha muttered, her voice barely above a breath.
June fell silent.
She was mad at her father, furious at him, but she would have done anything to get him treated. And now, knowing that her little sister had to go through that for his sake… it sting.
"Where did they tell you to deliver the money?"
Samantha hesitated .
But June had already made up her mind.
The one-hour drive was cut down to thirty minutes under June's heavy foot. With Samantha's wrist hooked around her own, she marched toward the familiar place. Every instinct in her body screamed turn back, don't push further, this is dangerous, but she couldn't let her younger sister face it alone.
She reaches for the door, her heart pounding, her mind running through backup plans in case things go south.
Then she saw the faces inside.
Damn it.
Trouble was already there.
….
"I don't care how you do it, but this mess has to be fixed."
Edward's voice sliced through the tension in the boardroom, his glare sweeping over the gathered department heads. Weeks of his absence had sent the company spiraling into chaos, and now, every major investor and top client had pulled out due to their negligence.
"But sir.."
"No excuses," he cut in, his sharp gaze silencing his advertising head before he could finish.
When Edward took over Heaven's Shine from his father, he vowed to elevate it beyond the small-scale chocolate business it once was. He expanded into fine wines, crafted with the highest purity, and built the brand into a global success. But now, the looming failure threatened everything he had worked for. His father would relish the chance to throw it in his face. And that, he would not allow.
The knock at the door cut through the charged silence.
"Mr. Collins, Mr. Kay is here to see you," Bullet announced, unknowingly saving the department heads from further reprimand.
Edward sighed, straightening his tie. "This meeting isn't over."
The moment he stepped out, the entire room deflated, quiet sighs of relief passing among them.
Outside his office, a heavy hand clapped onto Edward's shoulder.
"Collins, have you been hiding from me?"
Edward forced a grin, masking his frustration. "I got your message. The book was approved. Did she hear the news?"
"That's why I'm here," his friend replied as they stepped into the office.
Edward shut the door, locking out any curious ears. He had arranged for Dora's book to be published through his friend, not because he couldn't do it himself, but because she would never accept it if she knew it came from him. It had to be real. Honest.
"You know, I still don't get why you go through all this effort just to stay in the dark," his friend teased, sinking into a chair.
Edward opened his laptop, pretending not to hear.
"Why don't you just tell her what you've done for her?"
His fingers hovered over the keyboard. "When the time is right, she'll know."
His friend scoffed. "And if that time never comes?"
Edward shrugged, killing an itch on his nose with his thumb.
"I think 'the time' is here."
His friend's smirk gave him only a second's warning before Edward instinctively ducked beneath his desk. The door creaked open.
"Hello."
His friend sat up straight, biting back laughter. "Miss Dora."
Dora stepped inside, arms folded. Her mother had called earlier, ranting about how Collins, the man she and her father had chosen as her fiancé,was threatening to ruin Edward's business.
"Is Mr. Collins here?"
"Oh, you just missed him," his friend replied smoothly, digging his shoe into Edward's foot beneath the desk. "But you can leave a message. I'll make sure he gets it."
Edward clenched his jaw, biting back a groan from the pain.
Dora exhaled, her expression hardened. "When you see him, tell him to stay away from Edward. If he dares go after him, he won't like what I'll do."
With that, she turned and left.
The second the door shut, his friend burst into laughter.
"Well, Collins, the message has been directly relayed to you!"
Edward shot up from under the desk, his scowl deepening. But before he could react, her words sank in. She had just threatened him, for him. His heart twisted at the irony.
She cares.
Even if she didn't know the truth, she was willing to fight for him. It was a bittersweet feeling.
But then again, who else but his father would orchestrate such a situation? Of course, the old man had found a way to push him into a corner. And what better way than to force the truth into the open?
"You know," his friend mused, "one day, you're not going to be able to hide from her."
Edward exhaled, rubbing his temple. "I know."
The smirk on his friend's face faded. His eyes widened, shifting past Edward toward the door.
Edward's stomach dropped.
He turned, only to find Dora standing there. Alone. Frozen.
Her expression was unreadable at first, but then it shattered into something raw.
"You're… Mr. Collins?"
His heart slammed against his ribs.
"Dora, I…"
She turned. He lunged forward, grabbing for her hand, but she pulled away before he could touch her.
"Dora, please, just hear me out"
She stormed ahead, his voice chasing her through the halls. The entire office turned to watch in stunned curiosity. Their cold, ruthless CEO, running after a girl?
"Dora, I lied to you, yes. But you never asked."
His palm met his forehead a second too late. Damn it.
She stopped. Whirled around. "So this is my fault?"
Her voice wavered, but her eyes burned with betrayal.
"How stupid was I, thinking you were different?" Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. "All this time, you were playing me. Manipulating my emotions, for what?"
"To get your attention! To win your heart!" he shot back, desperate. "You hated your fiancé so much without ever meeting him. How was I supposed to tell you the truth?"
She recoiled, disgusted. His reach for her arm missed again as she stepped away.
"Maybe not meeting him was the best decision I ever made," she spat. "But no, I had to come here and see this for myself.
Her voice cracked. "You lied to me."
She turned and walked away. This time, he didn't chase her. He couldn't.
Because she wasn't just leaving his office.
She was leaving him.
….
The next time you see June's lifeless body, you'll know it wasn't fate that killed her, it was the countless enemies she had made along the way.
And June? She knew she was done for the moment her eyes landed on the same man she had once stabbed, the deep scar on his cheek proof of her handiwork. The same man whose missions she had ruined time and time again, preventing him from extorting his debtors.
Without hesitation, he sent his men forward, forcing his battered body to the front. His time had finally come. He would make her pay, for himself and for the bruises he had earned at the hands of her friend's man.
June forced a sweet smile, backing toward the exit. "Let's not get crazy now. We can take this slow and steady."
He sneered. "There's no running from this. You're in my territory."
She had seconds, maybe less. Close your eyes, June. Accept your fate. This is the end. You won't survive that board slamming into you.
Her own voice echoed in her head as she let her body move on instinct. She shut her eyes, bracing for the thick wooden plank swinging toward her face.
But the blow never landed.
Instead, she felt a familiar touch, a firm grip on her arm, steadying her.
Her eyes flickered open just in time to see him. Dave. He was here, looking as dangerous and breathtaking as ever, snapping the arms of her attacker like twigs.
"June!"
Samantha's voice yanked her back to reality just as another man charged at her with a rusted metal pipe. She dodged on reflex, her heart pounding.
She barely had time to register Dave's precise movements, how effortlessly he dismantled the men around him. She had never seen him fight before, but damn… he was good. No, he was lethal.
One message. That was all it took. She had texted him their location in case they didn't make it back, and without hesitation, he had come for her.
Good call, June.
He was beside her in seconds, scanning her body for injuries. "Did you get hurt?"
She barely heard the question, too distracted by his warm thumb brushing against her cheek. Heat bloomed under her skin. How could she be so lucky?
"Did they hurt you?" he asked again.
She shook her head. Of course not, she thought. Not when you're here.
Then came the gunshot.
"Dave!"
Her scream ripped through the chaos as he crumpled to the ground.
June dropped to her knees, her hands flying to the back of his head, where blood oozed through his hair.
"Dave," she choked out, shaking him. "Dave, wake up!"
Sirens blared in the distance, but she barely heard them. She barely noticed the police taking down the last of the thugs. All she could focus on was the warmth seeping from Dave's body, the sticky wetness of blood coating her fingers.
Seconds later, paramedics burst onto the scene, hoisting him onto a stretcher. June tried to follow, but strong arms pulled her back.
"Let me go!" she yelled, thrashing against the hands holding back.
"I know you're worried, but you won't do any good if you don't let the doctors do their job," James said, his voice softer than usual.
Her breathing came in short, ragged gasps. "He's my friend," James added. "Nothing will happen to him."
She swallowed hard. It better be true.
If Dave died because of her… if she hadn't texted him, if she hadn't pulled him into this, he wouldn't have been shot.
And she would never forgive herself.
The bastard who fired the shot was already in cuffs, his attempted escape no match for the police.
"June!"
She barely had time to react before her mother rushed in, wrapping her in a tight embrace. It felt foreign, unfamiliar… but comforting.
Her mother pulled back, gripping her shoulders. "I was so worried. I thought you were the one hurt." Her hands roamed over June's arms, checking for injuries.
June blinked. Since when does she care this much?
She had never known her mother to be affectionate, much less worried. The woman she knew was cold, strict, never one to coddle or show emotions.
And yet, here she was.
The moment didn't last. Her mother's gaze shifted, landing on Samantha.
Her expression darkened.
"You," she hissed.
Samantha barely had time to react before their mother lunged at her.
"Wasn't it enough that your mother stole my husband? Now you want to get my daughter killed?"
"Mom, stop!" June threw herself between them, arms outstretched. "This has nothing to do with her."
"It has everything to do with her! She's the root of all your problems."
Before June could argue, another voice cut through the air.
"June."
She turned.
Dave's mother stood there, her eyes red-rimmed, her expression filled with anguish.
"Where's my son?"
June's stomach clenched.
This was not her day.
One mother wanted to tear Samantha apart, and the other wanted answers.
And June?
June just wanted Dave to wake up.