Tangled Temptations

Brett paused in his steps. After a moment, he ordered Donny, "Find her a hotel room."

Donny took it upon himself to untie Orlena. She's mostly unharmed, and Donny felt relaxed. "It's a relief you're safe."

Orlena, however, was staring in the direction Brett had left, lost in thought. Her heart sank gradually.

In the middle of the night.

Brett stood by the window. Donny thoughtfully draped a jacket over him, whispering, "Ms. Stephanie's right hand is ruined. She'll need to train her left hand from now on. How do you plan to handle her?"

Brett lit a cigarette. After a moment, he murmured, "Keep her. She's still useful."

He wanted her to be his "lover." If anyone wanted to harm those close to him, the first person they'd target would be Stephanie. To put it bluntly, she was his shield. And she had no choice but to accept it.

Donny remained silent.

Brett turned around, giving a bitter smile. "Scared? This is who I am. What do people say about me? A ruthless hell-raiser."

But even such a man had a weak spot. He was now about to meet his weak spot.

The best hotel in Brockville.

Outside the suite, several bodyguards were diligently stationed, not moving an inch. Inside the suite, Orlena was eating from a box of food. Her tears were falling freely.

Before she met Brett, she rarely cried. Even when she was dating Max and threatened to take sleeping pills, it was just a few pills to scare him. She thought her infatuation with Max was love, but once she experienced real love, she realized how superficial those feelings were.

She couldn't eat. If she did, she felt nauseous. Eventually, she couldn't stand even the smell of meat. She was retching violently in the bathroom. This was unusual because she had a good appetite.

Orlena touched her belly. Her heart skipped a beat. She remembered, over a month ago, during their last time together, he didn't use protection.

Could she be pregnant?

Orlena lifted her face. Her reflection in the mirror was as pale as a ghost. She rushed out immediately; she needed to buy a pregnancy test. She wanted to know if she was carrying Brett's child. If she was pregnant, she wanted to ask him something.

Did he want the baby?

The bodyguard at the door stopped her, politely saying, "Miss Orlena, Donny instructed that you cannot go anywhere."

Orlena's lips trembled. "I'm not feeling well. I need to go downstairs to buy medicine."

The man hesitated. In the end, they let her go downstairs but sent two men to accompany her.

Across the hotel was a 24-hour pharmacy. She hurried in, bought what she needed and hid it in her pocket. Then she rushed back to her room. A minute later, two red lines appeared on the pregnancy test.

Orlena stared at it. After a while, she covered her mouth.

She was pregnant. She was carrying Brett's child.

There was a knock at the door, followed by the sound of soft footfalls. She recognized it as Brett's footsteps. She gently touched her belly and slowly walked

out.

Only two hours had passed, but they already felt estranged. The corners of Orlena's mouth trembled. She wanted to tell him she was pregnant.

But Brett spoke first. He sat on the sofa. His slender fingers lightly stroked the armrest. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully before he spoke, "Orlena, you've seen how dangerous it can be around me.”

She wanted to say she wasn't afraid.

Brett smiled gently, looking at her. He asked, "Then what can you do for me if you stay? Can you shed blood for me like Stephanie? Orlena, I need people like her, not a crybaby like you."

She murmured, "Do you like her?"

"I respect her." Brett dusted off his pants, calmly saying, "She's lost the use of her right hand. I did that."

Brett thought, "That's scary, isn't it? Go back to Peterborough right away."

Orlena's lips trembled; she didn't understand his meaning.

Brett chuckled, speaking bluntly yet cruelly, "I respect women like her. Orlena, you are very adorable, but you're only good for passing the time during peaceful days.

I am not destined to live in such peace. Do you understand?"

He suddenly said harshly, "You don't understand anything."

Orlena felt a bit dazed. She began to understand. He did like her a bit, but his fondness for her wasn't enough for him to give up everything he had. He liked power and authority, and she wasn't the woman for him.

Was Stephanie the right woman for him? Orlena didn't ask this question. She slowly dropped her eyelashes.

He was a man of ambition. He had made it so clear. What was the point of tying him down with a little girl?

In the dim light, their final shadows were cast. She didn't tell him about the pregnancy. She just looked up at him and quietly said, "I wish Mr. Brett a bright future."

Brett watched her. She turned her head away. Her voice was broken and short, "Leave. Or I'll keep following you around."

Brett slowly stood up. He seemed to want to pat her head, but he gave up. It was only when he reached the door that he whispered, "Orlena, I'm sorry."

He was apologizing for this relationship that was not fully prepared. He was

apologizing for their lack of a happy ending. His little girl would surely find someone better. As for him, he deserved to live in the game of power, as a sort of punishment.

Brett left. The door slowly opened and closed again.

Orlena collapsed onto the plush carpet, covering her face, sobbing quietly.

She went back to Peterborough. She couldn't go home. She moved into the house on Sixth Avenue, living off the little food in the refrigerator. She couldn't cook, so she just boiled everything.

Every night, she would wake up from a nightmare. In her dreams, Brett would come back. He would gently carry her to bed, patting her bottom for being disobedient.

When she woke up, her eyes would be wet with tears.

But he never came back...

By the time she snapped out of her daze, two months had passed, and her belly had grown. She was even more afraid to go home.

She couldn't let her family know she was pregnant, much less that the baby was Brett's. She moved from place to place, with no credit cards and no money.

Her clothes gradually became plain.

She moved into a 20-square-meter rental, learned to do odd jobs, earned a meager wage to keep herself alive, and even learned to make simple fried rice. Gradually, she began to count every penny for a cup of smoothie.

Every now and then, she would see Brett in the news. As charismatic and extravagant as ever, his clothes screamed wealth and success. Glancing down at her own $2.9 shirt, she couldn't help but feel they were worlds apart now. She and Brett were like a beautiful dream she had woken up from.

Ever since Orlena left, Brett developed a habit. He was constantly checking his phone, but there were no more messages from her. No greetings during the holidays. Nothing at all.

He had dropped by the Horigan family's place a few times, but with Orlena away, it wasn't his place to pry.

Donny had mentioned that she had gone away to clear her mind.

At home, Tracey would sometimes bring him pasta in the middle of the night, garnished with fresh cilantro. He didn't like cilantro, but he would eat it all the same, as if consuming Orlena's share too.

He resumed his previous persona, the respected Mr. Brett everyone admired, but his heart was not whole anymore.

He started frequenting more with people like Mr. Moreno and Ms. Olea. These friends remembered Orlena, and would often ask about her during social gatherings. He would always laugh it off, saying, "Kids these days, they lose interest so quickly. She's probably off chasing the Northern Lights with her friends. She has no time to remember old Brett."noveldrama

Everyone would laugh and agree. Brett would then laugh harder, appearing more at ease, but only he knew the true pain coursing through his heart.

...

Seasons passed.

Ms. Olea was getting married, and her fans had organized an exhibition for her. Brett graced the occasion.

Ms. Olea and her fiancé accompanied him, casually discussing current events, although she noticed Mr. Brett seemed quite preoccupied. Just as she was about

to ask, her gaze fell upon a familiar figure in the distance.

A tall woman, whose silhouette vaguely resembled someone.

She quickly pointed her out to Brett. "Mr. Brett, look, is that Orlena?"

Orlena...

Brett's heart stirred. He followed Ms. Olea's pointed finger, and indeed saw a woman. Her profile did look similar, but she was simply dressed and visibly pregnant. How could she be his Orlena?

The woman was struggling to carry a large stack of documents. It was at least 10 kilos. She was laboring up the stairs. Brett turned to Donny and asked, "Doesn't this place have an elevator?"

Donny whispered, "The elevator is for guests. The staff usually take the stairs."

Brett nodded. The sight of that woman had reminded him of his Orlena. He couldn't help but dial her number on his phone.

On the second floor of the theater, a phone began to ring. The woman carrying the stack of documents dropped everything in surprise. The workers around her began to grumble.

Orlena quietly apologized and slipped away to the washroom to answer the call. She heard Brett ask, "Are you having fun?”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she slid down the wall and nodded vigorously. "Yes, I'm having fun."

After a long pause, Brett finally replied, "That's good. If that's the case, then our breakup was for the best."

She closed her eyes and hummed in agreement.

Brett hung up the phone slowly. Her phone slipped from her grasp as she burst into tears in the washroom. Brett, on the other hand, walked into the men's washroom next door, silently washing his hands.

They were only separated by a wall.

...

Past memories pricked like needles, causing unbearable pain. Even though

Orlena had returned to the Horigan family, the hardship she had endured would often reappear in her dreams.

On the way back to Horigan Mansion, Orlena was silent, not uttering a single word. Donny wanted to say something but didn't know what to say. When they

arrived at Horigan Mansion, the family was waiting. As soon as they saw her, they rushed forward.

Daniel ran towards her, calling out "Mommy" in his soft voice. His fair skin, brown short hair, were all inherited from Brett. Orlena hugged her son tightly, holding him as if she would never let go.

A hand gently patted her shoulder. Harvey, holding Eloise, softly said, "Don't cry, Orlena, your brother will take care of you."