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On the night she was supposed to begin a new life, Winona Mosley’s story took a deadly turn. Her wedding was a masquerade for betrayal–her husband, Travis Greenfield, in cahoots with his secret lover, had poisoned her cup.
In the cruelest twist, Travis didn’t just end her life; he turned her into a morbid token of his victory, sending her severed head as a ghoulish gift to his arch–nemesis, Matthew Langford, the head of Drexington’s most formidable family.
From the eerie silence of her own detached head, Winona’s spirit watched as Matthew, the man known for his unbreakable calm, fell apart.
He cradled her head, his sobs resonating like a forlorn wolf’s lament for its lost companion. The raw grief in his howls reached even her numbed soul, stirring shared sorrow.
Winona had been oblivious to the torrent of emotions that Matthew harbored for her, hidden beneath his frosty and detached exterior.
For the following week, Winona’s spirit was a constant presence around Matthew. She was there, a quiet observer, as he plunged into a frenzy of despair.
He hugged her broken head, oblivious to his own hunger and thirst, yet somehow managing to care for her with an eerie affection.
It was only after his men discovered her decaying body, ravaged by stray dogs, that Matthew got a jolt back to reality. With painstaking care, he sewed her head back onto her battered body, treating her torn–up body like it was made of glass.
Against the gossiping public and his family’s scowls, Matthew staged a wedding that was nothing short of a grand spectacle. He adorned her with a gown that was a vision of enchantment and a ring that twinkled like a celestial gem, impressing even Winona’s disembodied spirit.
At the ceremony, Matthew looked deep into what was left of her, his voice full of love as he spoke his vows to her lifeless
form.
He leaned in close, his gaze fixed on her pallid face. With a gentle kiss on her lips, he whispered, “Winona, I love you. You’re my bride now.”
Winona felt a sharp pang pierce her when Matthew spoke, a bolt of realization striking her. The past came flooding back: the treachery from those she’d trusted, the poison that had stolen her life, and the man she’d loved using her up until there was nothing left.
She cried, her ghostly tears a ghostly red, as she looked at Matthew in confusion.
Before her death, Winona had been mentally limited, with the intellect of a five–year–old and an appearance that wasn’t considered beautiful. She couldn’t grasp how Matthew, Nexland’s wealthiest and most influential man, could have fallen for someone like her, a deceitful woman who’d caused him so much agony.
On the night they were supposed to be united in love, Winona, now just a ghostly presence, was swamped in sorrow, trying to fathom how Matthew would cope with her lifeless form. But the scene that unfolded next morphed her sorrow into a jolt of disbelief.
In the bridal chamber, her treacherous ex–husband, Travis, her stepsister, Felicia Mosley, and her stepmother, Morgan Mosley, stood there. All three had their hands tied tightly behind them. Their eyes were as wide as saucers, brimming with fear as they stared at Matthew.
Matthew held Winona’s broken body, treating her as if she were a cherished, fragile child. His strong arm encircled her, while his free hand dealt out a harsh retribution, slipping poison into the mouths of the traitors, one after another.
His gaze, as frosty as a winter’s night, followed their torment–blood oozing from their eyes and mouths, their pained howls
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Once the grim duty was over, he turned to Winona’s body, his voice a caress of love. “Winona, this is my wedding gift to you. Are you pleased?”
Above, Winona’s spirit felt tears gather as she offered a nod. “Yes I am,” she murmured. “Thank you for avenging me.” But her words were a silent breeze, a gratitude that Matthew could never truly hear.
With a final, somber order, Matthew sent his men to drag the bodies away, leaving them to the mercy of the mountains and the hunger of the wolves.
When they were finally alone, Matthew gazed at Winona’s lifeless form with a tender sorrow that shimmered in his eyes. “Winona, are you feeling all alone up there?” He offered a small, reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, my love. I won’t be far
behind.”
He lowered himself onto the wedding bed beside her, the joyful roses a stark contrast to the somber scene.
A serene smile danced on his lips as he sparked the lighter to life. The blanket caught fire, flames licking around them like fervent arms, ensnaring them in an embrace of fire.
Winona’s spirit recoiled in horror. “No!” she gasped, her voice desperate.
Winona’s tears silently etched their way down her cheeks as she lay tangled in the soft embrace of her double bed. “No…” she whispered.
“No?” A voice, as chilling as a winter gale and seething with rage, sliced through her sleep, yanking her back to reality. “You don’t want me? Then who? Travis or those five gigolos?”
Winona’s eyes snapped open, her heart pounding like a wild drumbeat in her chest. There, perched on the edge of her bed, was a figure shrouded in shadows, a mask concealing the upper half of his face.
‘Matthew?‘ she questioned inwardly. ‘He was supposed to have been consumed by the inferno. How is he here, risen from the ashes, and dredging up that old argument from half a decade ago when we were on the brink of ending our engagement? Is this a dream?’
Winona’s silence seemed to confirm Matthew’s worst fears–that she’d choose those gigolos over him. His anger flared as he clenched her chin. “Winona,” he growled, “you hired five gigolos to tarnish your own reputation just to get out of our engagement? That’s heartless.”
His eyes blazed with intensity, and then, in a flash, he claimed her lips with his. In a whirlwind of desire, he pressed into her, wild and hungry, as if trying to mark her as his own.
But as the storm within him roared, threatening to break free, Matthew somehow found the strength to leash it. He pushed Winona away, pivoting on his heel, ready to make his exit.
“Wait,” Winona called out, a strange warmth surging through her veins. She threw herself into Matthew’s arms, her fingers digging into his waist as she kissed him with a feverish intensity
Matthew pulled back, his voice gravelly. “You’ll regret this,” he warned.
“Please,” Winona implored, her hands fluttering on his chest as she sought his lips again. “Help me. I feel awful.” At her plea, Matthew’s defenses crumbled, and he kissed her back with a fervor that mirrored her own.
After the whirlwind of their passion had subsided, Matthew disentangled himself from Winona, his face a mask of indifference. As he dressed, gracefully fastening the buttons of his white shirt, he spoke with a chilling detachment. “Let’s call off the engagement.”
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Winona’s head was a whirlwind of disorientation. The jolt of resurrection and the emotional rollercoaster with Matthew had her feeling like she was on a tilt–a–whirl.
She blinked, her gaze sweeping over his impressive build–broad shoulders, a waist that tapered perfectly, and legs that could give any catwalk star a run for their money. A blush crept up her cheeks as she asked, “What did you say?”
The unbelievable realization had hit her: she’d just been hurled back in time to the day of her father’s fiftieth birthday shindig, five years in the past.
The Mosley family was in its prime, her five stellar brothers were still alive, her father hadn’t been swallowed by despair and taken his own life, and she hadn’t called it quits with Matthew.
She was handed a do–over, a chance to rewrite the script and change the trajectory of their shared story.
Winona’s heart raced, terrified that this might all be a dream. She quickly grabbed Matthew’s hand. The warmth of his skin against hers brought tears to her eyes. “You’re really alive,” she whispered, her voice catching as tears slid down her cheeks.
Matthew’s gaze was a well of sorrow and disillusionment as it met hers. “You wanted me gone just to break off the engagement?” he asked.
A lingering doubt crept into his mind, making him wonder if she was the one who’d betrayed him, spilling his whereabouts two months ago, which had nearly led him to death.
Winona’s mind flashed back to that pivotal day five years ago, at her dad’s birthday party. He’d announced that in just three days, she and Matthew would be getting engaged.
Back then, she was under her stepmother Morgan’s and stepsister Felicia’s influence, with her heart set on Travis. Desperate to call off the engagement with Matthew, she’d listened to Felicia’s plan to invite five guys to her room, hoping Matthew would see them together.
Felicia had assured her it was a sure way to get Matthew to end the engagement. Blind to their true intentions, Winona hadn’t realized they wanted to disgrace her and cut her off from her family.
But Matthew had arrived early. He’d kicked the guys out and, in a fit of anger, had taken her virginity.
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