Chapter Fifty-FourAs Clara sat on the bed, trying to gather her thoughts, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. She turned her head just as Denver reappeared in the doorway, fully dressed and wearing an expression she hadn’t seen before—one of cold determination.“Clara, we need to talk,” Denver said, his voice calm but steely.Clara’s rage flared up again. “I told you to get out, Denver. I never want to see you again.”“You don’t get it, do you?” Denver snapped back, stepping into the room. “You can’t just get rid of me that easily.”“Oh, really? And why is that?” Clara spat, her fists clenching.“Because if you leave me, I’ll expose your little secret,” Denver said, his eyes narrowing. “The one about your sister, Stella. About how you sent her away to that remote island under false pretenses to secure your position as CEO.”Clara’s eyes widened in shock, but she quickly masked it with fury. “You wouldn’t dare.”“Try me,” Denver retorted, crossing his arms. “I’ve got nothing
Chapter Fifty Five While all the crazy and wicked things were happening to both Stella and Declan’s company On the other side of the world, a tragedy unfolded. Declan's life was slipping away, his soul leaving his body as he sank into the dark depths of the sea. The pain was excruciating, a burning sensation in his chest where Richard's blade had pierced him. "NOOOO!" Declan's voice was barely audible, a faint cry for help that was drowned out by the waves. Richard's evil laughter echoed in his mind, the betrayal cutting deeper than the physical wound. His brother-in-law's treachery was the ultimate blow and his subconscious mind vowed to take revenge if a miracle manages to help me stay alive. “Dear God or goddess , please let me live. I need to find my sister and I need to show these evil people that being evil to everyone just because you have money will not give you the opportunity to treat people like animals “ his soul silently prayed . Normally Declan was a good man a
Chapter Fifty Six Declan's survival on the deserted island was a never-ending battle. His supernatural strength was his only weapon against the ferocious creatures that roamed the land. One day, as he ventured deeper into the jungle, he stumbled upon a massive snake, its body as thick as a tree trunk. "SSSSSSS!" the snake hissed, its eyes blazing with fury. Declan stood his ground, his heart racing with anticipation. "I'm not going down without a fight!" With a fierce cry, he charged at the snake, his fists flying. The snake struck back, its venomous fangs snapping wildly. Declan dodged and weaved, his movements lightning-fast. He grabbed the snake's head, his hands tightening around its neck. "RRRRR!" the snake growled, its body thrashing about. Declan held firm, his muscles bulging with effort. Finally, the snake went limp, its body crashing to the ground. Breathless and victorious, Declan stood over his defeated foe. But his triumph was short-lived. A pack of vicious wolves
Chapter Fifty Seven Declan's heart raced with excitement as the helicopter drew closer. He waved his arms wildly, shouting at the top of his lungs. "HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE!" The blades whirred louder, the engine roaring as the helicopter descended onto the beach. Declan's eyes locked onto the soldiers inside, his hope and desperation palpable. "PLEASE! COME BACK! I'M STRANDED HERE!" But as the helicopter hovered above him, the soldiers' expressions changed from curiosity to disgust. They gazed at him with a mixture of pity and revulsion. "Look at him," one of them sneered. "He's just a mad, wild, naked man on an island. That's not the Dynasty Billionaire Tycoon we're looking for." Declan's heart sank, his body trembling with sadness. He realized that his appearance had betrayed him. His once-tailored suits and luxurious lifestyle were now a distant memory, replaced by tattered clothes and a wild, unkempt beard. "No...no, please!" Declan begged, his voice cracking with emotion. "
Chapter Fifty Eight Declan's eyes fixed on the bag, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. Anger, sadness, and gratitude wrestled for dominance as he gazed at the meager supplies. "Basic things soldiers need for survival," he muttered, his voice laced with sarcasm. "How generous of them." But as he rummaged through the bag, his tone softened. A water bottle, energy bars, a first-aid kit...it was little, but it was something. "At least this will keep me warm and alive for a few days," he said, a hint of positivity creeping into his voice. But then, his hand closed around something unexpected. A small pistol gun lay hidden at the bottom of the bag. Declan's heart skipped a beat as he stared at the weapon in disbelief. Why would they include this? Did they want him to... His mind raced with questions, but one thought stood out: this changes everything. With the pistol in hand, Declan felt a surge of hope. He could defend himself now, maybe even hunt for food. The island didn't see
Chapter Fifty NineDeclan's eyes fluttered open, his mind foggy from sleep. But as he sat up, he realized that something was off. The air was thick with tension, and the sound of footsteps echoed through the darkness.Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, a sword gleaming in the moonlight. Declan's heart raced as he scrambled to his feet, his pistol raised and ready."Who are you?" Declan demanded, his voice shaking slightly.The figure didn't answer, but instead charged at Declan with a fierce cry. Declan dodged the attack, his pistol firing into the darkness.But as he turned to face his attacker, he realized that he was surrounded. A group of Caribbean pirates had crept up on him, their swords and guns at the ready.Declan's heart sank, his mind racing with fear. But as he looked around, he knew he had to act fast. With a surge of adrenaline, he charged at the pirates, his pistol firing into the fray.The battle was intense, the sound of gunfire and clashing swords echoing t
Chapter Sixty Stella stood on the shore, her brush dancing across the canvas as she captured the serene beauty of the island. Three months had passed since she arrived, and it had been a transformative experience. The peace and quiet had allowed her to reconnect with nature and tap into her creative side. Her paintings, once amateurish and uncertain, now radiated a sense of confidence and skill. They were reminiscent of the Greek goddesses she had always admired, and she felt a sense of pride and accomplishment. But as she mixed colors on her palette, a sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. She had been dreading this moment for weeks, ever since her father's letters had stopped arriving. And then, it came. A small boat arrived on the shore, carrying a somber-faced messenger. Stella's heart sank as he approached her, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Miss Stella, I'm so sorry to inform you that your grandfather has passed away," he said, his voice barely above a whisper
Stella woke up in a dimly lit room. Her head throbbed, and her vision was blurry. She tried to sit up but found her hands and feet bound. Panic surged through her as she scanned her surroundings. The room was small, with a single barred window high up on the wall. The door was heavy and wooden, with no sign of a handle from the inside."Where am I?" she whispered to herself, her voice trembling.Footsteps echoed outside the door. Stella's heart raced. The door creaked open, and the man from the shore entered, his expression cold and unreadable."Who are you? What do you want from me?" Stella demanded, trying to keep her fear at bay.The man ignored her questions and placed the black metallic chest on the floor in front of her. "You have something that belongs to me," he said, his voice steady and chilling."I don't know what you're talking about," Stella replied, her mind racing to understand.The man crouched down, his eyes locking onto hers. "Your grandfather had something that righ