Unstoppable Unforgiven (Shermaine and Joshua)

Nurse walking 565



Danielle was beaming as she walked out with Ross, practically glowing with excitement.

Back at Riverswood Villa, the soup in the thermos on the table had gone cold, long forgotten.

Moonlight spilled into the room, casting soft silver shadows. Shermaine sat perched atop the piano, the once–flawless starry gown now crumpled and carelessly hanging off her legs, the hem swaying with each slight movement.

Joshua stood close, one arm snug around her waist. With his other hand, he gently lifted her chin, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was slow, deep, and almost reverent.

His gaze was dark and unreadable. Sweat glistened at his collar, a single drop sliding down his throat, disappearing beneath his shirt.

Shermaine had this maddening effect on him. Whenever she got in the mood, it was never just about surrender. She had to match him, push him, challenge him, as if it were a game of equals. What she didn’t know was how much that turned him on.

After a long moment, he murmured against her mouth, “The dress is ruined.”

She lifted one leg and nudged him in the chest with her foot. “You did that on purpose.”

He caught her ankle easily, his thumb running lightly along the curve of it. “Of course I did.”

And he had. There was no way in hell he was letting her wear that dress out again.

Joshua’s voice softened, warm and coaxing. “I’ll find you something better.”

Shermaine looked at him for a moment, weighing it. Then, coolly, she said, “Not enough. Play for me. On the piano. Until I forgive you.”

Joshua’s throat worked as he swallowed back his next move. The heat in him hadn’t cooled, but he nodded and stepped away.

He lifted the lid and sat down, fingers finding their place on the keys.

The melody that followed was soft and beautiful, like the night itself, quiet and weightless, the kind of music that made everything outside the room

fade.

Shermaine reclined across the piano top, resting her head on her hand. A few strands of hair fell forward, brushing the keys and grazing the back of Joshua’s hand as he played.

She watched him through half–lidded eyes, a lazy smile playing at her lips. There was something in her gaze, wicked, inviting, and dangerous.

When he hit a wrong note, she couldn’t help it and laughed, then slowly licked her lips.

The music unraveled in an instant. The notes fell apart, discordant and clumsy.

Joshua exhaled, giving up. “Sheary… I’m sorry.” noveldrama

“Oh? For what?”

“For messing up your dress.”

“And will you do it again?” Shermaine asked.

He didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely.”

He stood, scooped her into his arms, and carried her back to the bedroom. As he dropped her gently onto the bed, a slow grin spread across his face. “Sheary… round two?”

1/4

1730

Tue, 22 Jul xi

The company’s annual gala landed squarely on December 30th.

The venue was an opulent five–star hotel. Luxury cars lined the driveway, camera flashes flickered, and the air buzzed with anticipation. Everyone dressed to impress, but not everyone expected who would show up tonight.

Janice and Owen had decided against staying at Maple Leaf Ville. With the new year approaching, they packed up their things, brought Gracie along, and flew back by helicopter to join the celebration.

Dave hadn’t wanted to leave at first, but his attachment to Gracie won. Wherever she went, he followed. There would be plenty of time to return later.

Owen and Janice arrived at the gala looking lively and radiant, the joy on their faces impossible to miss.

But the real surprise was what they

were pushing in front of them, a stroller.

Inside, a chubby baby in a fluffy bunny–eared hat sat blinking up at the lights. It was the kind of child that instantly made everyone melt, soft cheeks, wide eyes, and an undeniable charm.

Naturally, questions started swirling. Whispers fluttered from one guest to another. Whose baby was this?

Given that it was Owen and Janice who brought the child, it didn’t take tong for people to draw their own conclusions.

People approached with warm smiles and polite greetings, but no one asked the question directly. They all knew the answer was coming soon enough.

And sure enough, not long after, Joshua and Shermaine entered the ballroom together, walking straight toward the stroller.

The baby suddenly came alive, arms flailing in excitement, the little bell on its bracelet jingling like crazy, as if recognizing its parents instantly.

Shermaine wasn’t wearing that star–studded gown from before. Tonight, she wore a gold slip dress, bold, elegant, and nearly impossible for anyone else to pull off.

But she looked like a goddess. That shade of gold, so rarely seen, clung to her figure like it had been made for her and her alone. She was commanding and ethereal, cool and untouchable.

The moment Shermaine and Joshua entered the room, all eyes turned to them.

Shermaine, in particular, was the center of attention. People from every circle had shown up tonight, and most of them were here to see if the rumors

were true.

Word had spread that she was still alive, and no one was willing to believe it until they saw her for themselves.

The annual gala was being streamed live, and the online viewership had just crossed eight million.

The chat was going wild, the same line scrolling nonstop across the screen. [Welcome back, Shermaine! Welcome back, Joshua!]

Shermaine could feel Gracie calling out to her. She stepped forward and gently lifted the little girl out of the stroller.

The moment she did, the crowd got the message loud and clear. Shermaine was the child’s mother.

Someone finally broke the silence and asked Owen, half–joking, “That little one’s too cute. Who’s the lucky family?”

Owen had been waiting for this question all night. He was actually surprised no one had asked sooner. These people had nerves of steel, but the suspense had been driving him crazy.

Clearing his throat dramatically, he raised his voice and announced, “Well, allow me to introduce you. This is my great–granddaughter, Gracelyn York. She’s the daughter of Joshua and Shermaine. We call her Gracie.”

Gasps spread through the crowd. No one had expected that Joshua and Shermaine had not only disappeared for two years, but had also had a child it

the meantime.

Those at the event exchanged astonished glances, while online, viewers were losing their minds.

Gracelyn’s arrival felt like the birth of royalty, blessed with both status and charisma.

People were already wondering if she might one day outshine her legendary parents.

Not long after, Ross and Danielle made their entrance, a picture–perfect couple.

Then came Ruth and Richard. Ruth rested her hand on his arm, the gesture showing they were more than just friends.

As for the families who’d thought they could take advantage while Joshua and Shermaine were gone, they were probably kicking themselves right now.

Even in their absence, the two families were far too powerful to be pushed around. And now, with everyone back, no one in their right mind would dare stir the pot tonight.

Joshua and Shermaine were kept busy the entire evening, caught up in a whirlwind of greetings and social obligations.

With such an overwhelming presence from both families, any troublemakers had wisely decided to keep their heads down.

Outside, fireworks lit up the night sky in a dazzling display that went on for ages.

The new year had arrived, and snow began falling softly over Basterel.

Meanwhile, in Avalmere, the skies were pitch black and a vicious blizzard was tearing through the land. From deep inside an ancient stone fortress, blood–curdling screams echoed through the halls.

Moments later, two military trucks pulled up to the gates. Armed men burst through the doors, only to find a nightmare waiting for them, bodies torn to pieces, blood staining every surface, the stench of death overwhelming.

A petite woman stepped down from one of the vehicles. The snowfall was heavy, so she opened an umbrella as she walked, casually humming a tune.

When she stepped inside and took in the carnage, she barely reacted, just a slight frown, a flicker of disgust in her eyes. Then she asked, slowly and coldly, “Where’s my slave?”

A bearded man stepped forward. “Ms. Channing, he’s escaped.”

Without warning, Faye Channing slapped him across the face. Her demeanor turned on a dime. “Then what the hell are you standing around for? Go find

him!”

She was furious. That man had been her most successful test subject, with unbreakable will, striking looks, and a body like a sculpture. She’d planned to keep him close, more pet than a prisoner.

Another man approached, holding out a device. “Ms. Channing, the boss is calling.”

Faye raised an eyebrow. “That old fossil? I’m not in the mood.”

The man hesitated. “You might want to take it. Sounds urgent.”

She sighed, annoyed, then snatched the iPad from/him. On the screen, an elderly man appeared, lying in a hospital bed, tubes running from every limb. “Faye,” he croaked. “How’s the research coming? I’m running out of time.”

Faye popped a lollipop into her mouth, her voice light and careless. “Almost there. I’ll bring what you need in a couple days. Later.” And she hung up without another word.

Somewhere in the heart of the storm, a small cabin stood with its windows lit. Inside, Mireya Volkova sat watching television. Suddenly, a faint sound drifted from the storage shed out back. She took off her reading glasses, picked up a wooden stick and a gun, and headed out.

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Tue, 22 Jul

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The shed reeked of blood.

With a flashlight in hand, she crept forward. Then she heard it, a low, guttural sound, like a wounded animal. She swung the beam of light ahead, and there it was. A wolf, badly injured, lay motionless in a bed of overgrown weeds.


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