Storms of the Heart novel Chapter 1

Everyone in Flarora deemed Trina Shepherd the city's most beautiful red rose. She was gorgeous, confident, and unrestrained.

She was having the time of her life abroad when her father summoned her home with a telegram. It had only one cold message. "Come back immediately. Marry Julian."

Julian Hauser was the youngest and most promising officer in the unit. He was cool and disciplined—her polar opposite.

She loved noise and crowds, but he preferred silence.

She did whatever she wanted and pulled plenty of outrageous stunts, while he followed every rule, his discipline unshakeable.

She was bright and free, changing boyfriends as easily as she changed clothes, while he kept his distance from women and had never so much as touched a female soldier's hand.

Just imagining being married to someone that uptight made Trina feel like she couldn't breathe. So, she did everything she could to break the engagement.

She spent three days and three nights dancing and partying, thinking Julian would give up on her. Yet he walked in wearing a crisp uniform, ignored every stare in the room, and carried her home on his back.

She deliberately crashed into the commander's garden fence, hoping Julian would decide she was a lost cause. But he apologized in person, paid for the damages, arranged the repairs, and settled everything without making a fuss.

She made a mess of things without a care, but he was always right behind her, quietly setting things right.

This time, she had been detained for fighting. He had just finished a three-day emergency mission and was still in uniform, red veins spiderwebbing his eyes as he rushed over to bail her out.

Looking at his tired yet upright figure, Trina felt a rare urge to explain herself.

She wanted to say that she wasn't causing trouble this time. The guy had reached for her first just because she was pretty.

But before she could get a word out, Julian had already walked up to her and quietly taken her hand.

There was a thin cut on the tip of her finger. She hadn't noticed it at all, but he had.

He pulled a small first-aid kit from his pocket. Then, he disinfected the cut and gently pressed a band-aid over it.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

At that moment, all the explanations Trina had prepared caught in her throat.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes calm and steady. "I don't care how big a mess you make or how much trouble you stir up. I can handle all of that. What matters to me is whether you're hurt."

Trina felt her whole world jolt. It was as if something had slammed into the softest part of her heart, shattering every defense she had built.

Whenever she caused trouble, her father only snapped at her for being a disgrace. Her stepmother only put on a fake smile and told her to act like a lady. No one had ever asked her if she was hurt or upset.

Her voice came out hoarse as she heard herself say, "Julian, we can get married."

She thought she saw a flash of light in his dark eyes.

"But before that, I need to ask you something," she said, her tone full of pride and possessiveness. "Do you have someone you once loved but couldn't have? My man must belong to me completely. There can't be anyone else in his heart. It can only be me."

Julian's gaze locked onto hers, unwavering. "No. There's only you."

So, Trina married Julian.

Flarora's brightest red rose married the coldest, most ascetic officer in the military.

After the wedding, a saying spread through the city's inner circle—no one in their right mind provoked Julian's wife, Trina.

No matter how big of a mess Trina made, Julian was always behind her and took care of everything.

Trina genuinely believed her warmth had thawed Julian's frostiness—until the day she went to the military base to drop off some documents Julian had left at home.

Just as she reached the training ground, she saw a group of officers gathered together. They seemed to be at some kind of mixer. The mood was lively and upbeat.

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