The Downfall Of The Darling

Prologue

Hello, Love!

Before you dive into the teaser of The Downfall Of The Darling, I have something way more important to share—my cat. Yep, that adorable enormous eyes staring at you is the true mastermind behind all my writing.

I'd love to say he's been my muse, but honestly, he's more of a distraction I couldn't get angry with. Seriously, how can you get any work done when he's around?!

Anyway, here's a sneak peek at my latest work. Enjoy the drama, heartbreak, and everything in between! Just remember, if you don't like it, blame the cat.

P.S. My cat insists he had no role in the emotional rollercoaster you're about to read.

Teaser of Blair's unrequited love:

Ezra sat in his spacious office atop one of his company's buildings abroad, the setting sun casting long shadows across the desk. Despite the stunning cityscape view, Ezra found himself increasingly bothered by a growing headache.

He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as he leaned back in his chair. Blair's 21st birthday would be tomorrow, and the mere thought of her beaming face appearing out of nowhere was enough to make his head throb even harder. Every y ear, without fail, she would arrive like a magician—each time bringing a new, extravagant gift.

As the office emptied and fell silent, Ezra remained alone, glancing at the clock—11:45 PM. He had stayed late, anticipating her arrival with her usual enthusiasm before midnight, her birthday. Yet, with only 15 minutes remaining, there was still no sign of her arrival. Drumming his fingers on the desk, he frowned, recalling their last conversation two months ago, on his birthday.

They were in the expansive kitchen of the Taylor mansion after school, with Blair perched on the counter while Ezra, despite his reluctance, cooked for her as she requested.

Blair sat at the counter, her eyes fixed on him as he flipped the steaks with precision, the perfect sizzle reaching her ears.

She swung her legs like an impatient child, her eyes twinkling as she prepared for yet another confession. Ezra could already feel a groan rising within him.

"Ezra," she began, her voice laced with that familiar, syrupy sweetness. "I love you."

He didn't even glance away from the pan. "Blair, we've discussed this before. The answer remains no."

Her smile remained unwavering; in fact, it grew even wider, as if his rejection were merely background noise.

"Well," she shrugged her shoulders in an exaggerated, playful manner, "I'm just saying I love you. No big deal!" She grabbed a slice of Hawaiian pizza with extra pineapple, biting into it with excessive cheerfulness. "Fate is like this pizza, you know? Pineapple and pizza—people say they don't belong together, but look! They're perfect!" She waved the slice in the air triumphantly, as if making a grand point.

He looked at her with a horrified expression. He couldn't decide which was more terrifying: her absurd statement or the pineapple on pizza. Both seemed equally unsettling, and for a moment, he genuinely questioned her taste—in both food and life choices. She even liked her steak coated with peanut butter.

Now, sitting in his empty office, the memory made him clench his jaw. It was 11:58 PM, and there were only two minutes left until her birthday. Blair—who always showed up without fail—was nowhere to be seen.

 Teaser of Blair's Family Conflicts: 

As Blair's fingers tightened around the doorknob, her grandfather's voice rang out, sharper and more menacing than before.

"Where do you think you're going?" he growled, each word dripping with cold authority. "Once you leave, you will never be part of this family again."

"And you think you've experienced the worst?" her grandfather's voice dropped to a chilling calm, each word precise and laced with venom. "No, child—the worst is waiting for you beyond these walls. Out there, you'll be nothing. No name. No protection. Just a discarded daughter. You'll live a life worse than death, Blair. Alone, despised, and forgotten. Once you walk through that door, no one—not even your own blood—will care whether you live or die."

Blair's breath caught in her throat, but she forced herself to stand firm. The terror crept in, gnawing at her resolve, but she swallowed hard, fighting back the fear that clawed at her chest.

"Honestly, Grandpa, if I survived on a $500 monthly budget living in a haunted apartment with an egg boiler to keep me fed," her tone was playful, despite her anxiety "I mean, every day is an adventure—especially when I have to bribe my cat just to let me sleep through the night! And let's not even talk about my heroic battles with cold showers. I've become a master of the quick wash—one minute I'm in, and the next I'm out, looking like a startled cat myself! If I can face that, I can face anything!"

She paused for effect. "And if I can negotiate with a demanding feline over who gets the best spot on the couch, I think I can manage a little thing called life. I'm still who I am—just a lot stronger, more determined, and, dare I say, ambitious. So, no matter what awaits me out there, I'm ready to fight for it. Bring it on!"

As she stepped out into the hallway, the faint whispers of her relatives followed her like a shadow.