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A Miserable Love Novel Cover

A Miserable Love

Orphaned and captured before her twelfth birthday by her parents' murderers, Winter has endured years of torment as a captive of the ruthless Leone siblings. Her only anchor is Saint, the boy she once loved, who hides a sinister obsession behind a gentle facade. As his desperate, suffocating possessiveness tightens around her, Saint demands her affection, promising her the world while threatening a dark fate if she dares to reject him. Winter must choose between a hopeless escape and a dangerous devotion.
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Chapter 4

She beamed.

"Hmm."

"Well, aren't you such a little b*tch?" She hummed, an unpredictable air settling between us.

"I guess you've got some bits of guts left in you, don't ya?" Her eyes gleaming with mockery, "I thought ever since then, you're just a brain-dead b*tch but wow! Guess what?"

She snickered, stepping closer, "I'd have never thought you're a..." She continued, "far more half-witted sl*t more than I credited for?"

With that, Stellar shoved me off balance. She dusted off her pristine attire, rising to her feet.

I could only sigh as my gaze observed my surroundings and the altercation that just transpired earlier. My body felt drained, as though all my vitality had been sapped away.

Before I could recover, pain flared sharply in my shoulder.

“Ah!” I yelped as her pointed heel dug into me, deliberately.

Stellar’s condescending smile burned into my vision as she pressed harder.

"You... really—" I gasped, struggling for air.

“Hm?” She tilted her head, feigning curiosity, before applying more pressure. “What were you saying?”

"..." Silence. I could only look at her blankly.

She rolled her eyes, a bored expression spreading across her face. “Tsk. You’re pathetic.”

Her voice dropped, low and venomous. “Hey. I’m just giving you some advice. You’d better learn your place here.” With one final shove of her heel, she stepped back and smirked.

Satisfied, she turned her back to leave, but her mocking voice cut through the silence once more.

“Oh, right.” She paused, her tone sing-song. “Did I mention Saint’s been away for a very long time?”

"Aren't you curious about what your lover is probably keeping himself busy with?" Her eyes glinted with malicious glee. "Poor thing— you probably didn't know?"

I grimaced lightly.

She faked a gasp, "Oh! My bad! It seems I struck a nerve."

"But," She observed my figure, "I guess ignorance does suit you the best."

Her gaze swept over me like I was nothing. “They say it’s bliss, right? You must’ve been in ecstasy this whole time!”

Her laughter rang out, echoing, as she walked away, leaving me helpless.

I slumped forward, my head heavy with despair, only to snap back to reality as my gaze landed on Eleanor’s unconscious body.

“Eli… Eleanor?” I whispered, crawling to her side.

Her face was pale and blood-streaked, her body motionless as if life had already fled. My hands trembled as I cradled her upper body, shaking her gently.

“Eleanor, wake up,” I pleaded.

But she didn’t respond.

Her face, once warm and lively, was now ghostly white. Memories of our bond flooded my mind—the awkward beginnings, the slow blossoming of a sisterhood in this cold, oppressive house. Eleanor was the first person to reach out to me, the only one who ever made me feel less alone. She was the older sister I had never known but always needed.

Tears blurred my vision as grief overtook me. My body, already weak, finally gave in to the pain. I could not help to prevent my cries.

I cried, clutching my chest harshly.

As I continuously whimpered, my heart burned with extreme pain.

My body could not bear the pain further.

And slowly all turned my vision to dampen.

Thud!

How I wish I could have had more influence and firmly protect myself and those I care for around me...

———

Dawn.

The first sliver of dawn, a pale, hesitant light, pierced through the frost-etched windowpane. My eyes were pierced with the half-dimmed room which held the weight of what felt like a cold winter season.

The sudden warmth from the sunlight made my head crack, pulsing painfully with a relentless rhythm.

Soon, I recognize the muffled sounds of footsteps from outside the room.

Every sound, every movement, amplified the throbbing agony, a constant reminder of the relentless assault on my senses.

The door gently creaked open.

A figure, tall and cloaked in a white coat filled a presence.

I looked up, obviously feeling disoriented.

"You have woken up, Miss." The old doctor addressed, presenting a brief smile.

"Uh. Yes." I managed to croak out, my voice hoarse.

Doctor Basil.

The Leone family's old and trusted advisor and doctor. He had long served as a guardian of the family's health for a few generations.

He approached the bedside table, sitting on the chair near me. His gaze settled on me for a moment, etching a hint of pity.

I lay back, sitting up and avoiding contact with him, tension crippled from my head to my toe.

"...How long—"

"Have you been well?" He asked.

"..."

"I take that as a no?"

"Not exactly, my body may have weakened due to the cold atmosphere." I sighed, "The cold... and accumulated fatigue may have taken a toll on me."

As I continuously spoke, a memory crashed into me like a tidal wave.

“Eli. Eleanor? Where is she?” My voice rose, frantic. How could I have forgotten?

Dr. Basil raised his hands, urging calm. His smile was reassuring but didn’t ease my panic.

“She’s alright, for now,” he said. “Eleanor is recuperating.”

I exhaled shakily, relief washing over me in waves.

"Thank God..."

For a moment, there was a brief silence.

“What happened?” he asked, his tone careful but probing.

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