Her Birthday His Forbidden Desire novel Chapter 7

**Twilight Carves Destinies by George Orwell**

**Chapter 7**

The air was thick with tension as Victoria’s body quaked with fear, her eyes wide and frantic. “I truly don’t know,” she stammered, shaking her head vigorously as if trying to physically dispel the truth. “Those men were indeed hired by me, but what they did with the photos afterward is beyond my knowledge, and as for Stella… I have no idea where she is.”

Ethan’s frustration boiled over, and in a moment of blind rage, he lashed out, kicking her sharply in the shoulder. The woman he had once idolized, the very muse who had inspired his deepest creative endeavors, was revealed to be nothing more than a master manipulator. The realization hit him like a cold wave: Stella wanted a divorce, and she had vanished without a trace.

His heart raced, the absence of explanation gnawed at him. Ethan felt as if the ground beneath him had crumbled away, leaving him in a chasm of despair. In a fit of fury, he began to demolish the cameras surrounding him, each crash echoing his inner turmoil as he glared at Victoria with contempt. “Get out! I never want to lay eyes on you again!” The words erupted from him like a volcano, raw and unfiltered.

He spiraled into madness, ripping apart and incinerating every photograph displayed in the exhibition, each snap of the flame a reminder of his shattered dreams. He spat on the remnants, his disgust palpable. How could he have allowed himself to be ensnared by someone so treacherous? The weight of his realization crushed him: he had destroyed his relationship with Stella because of this woman.

Victoria, now reduced to a pitiful figure, crawled towards him on her knees, her sobs cutting through the air like a siren’s wail. “I know I was wrong, Ethan! Please, if you turn your back on me, I might truly be blacklisted!” Her voice trembled, desperation etched into every syllable. “Can you really stand by and watch as the woman you made famous gets torn apart by everyone?”

Ethan’s mind drifted back to the time when he was still an unknown, struggling to make ends meet. It was then that Victoria had extended an invitation for a freelance job, a lifeline thrown to him just as he was preparing to marry Stella. That single session had ensnared him in Victoria’s web, making it nearly impossible for him to escape her grasp.

Victoria was a vision, her figure captivating, her presence before the camera far more magnetic than any commercial model. Each time she called, he felt an irresistible pull, rushing to fulfill her whims, their encounters a twisted feast of creativity and allure. “Victoria White’s Private Diary” stood as a testament to his skills, a work he once revered, but now, the memory of it twisted into something bitter and mocking. “Victoria White, you’re nothing but a manipulative witch!” he spat, the words sharp and cutting.

With that, Ethan turned his back on her, ignoring her cries that echoed in the hollow space behind him as he stormed out of the exhibition hall, the weight of betrayal heavy on his shoulders.

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