Can't Win Me Back



The warm, early morning sun bathed Rose Island in golden light. The fine, white sand on the beach shimmered with a dazzling radiance.

The bedroom Alyssa was in was as dark as night. Heavy, luxurious velvet curtains blocked out the sunlight completely.

In such an atmosphere, someone exhausted from a night of struggle could easily sleep through the day. But Jameson woke up early.

After a night of relentless nightmares, he was drenched in cold sweat, his face ashen. The moment he opened his eyes, he reached out frantically, his hands trembling.NôvelDrama.Org owns all © content.

He exhaled in relief when he felt the warmth of Alyssa's body beside him. Then, he sat up in bed.

The bed was a mess, not from lovemaking but from Alyssa's frenzied struggles the night before.

At the very last moment, Jameson forced himself to suppress his urge to dominate her.

He leaned weakly against the headboard, watching Alyssa's delicate face as she slept. His chapped, pale lips curled into a relieved and blissful smile.

Slowly, he lifted his hand and gently stroked the face he loved so deeply. His touch lingered; he was reluctant to pull away.

You're just too good to be true, I can't take my eyes off of you; you'd be like Heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much..."

Jameson softly sang one of his favorite love songs, his voice low and husky as he traced Alyssa's nose with the tip of his finger.

The emotions choking him made his voice crack, go off-key, and unbearable to hear.

Alyssa couldn't hear him either. Still, he knew that if he didn't sing to her now, he might never have the chance again.

"Good morning, Lyse." Jameson leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead.

He was really tempted to address her as "Mrs. Schmidt". Yet, he couldn't bring himself to say it for some reason.

Deep down, he was well aware that even if they had a wedding and shared the same bed, Alyssa would never actually be his-not for even a moment. Cóntent from NóvelDrámá!!

In this final moment, he refused to lie to himself any longer.

A knock sounded, and a helper entered with a tray. "Mr. Schmidt, it's time for your medications."

As the helper approached, she noticed the raw, hideous wound on his chest. Her eyes widened in shock, and she nearly dropped the tray. "Mr. Schmidt, you're hurt! I'll get the doctor to bandage it right away!"

"No need for that. It's nothing."

The wound exposed his flesh and could easily become infected. Even so, Jameson lowered his eyes, picked up the gold framed glasses from the bedside table, and put them on. His bloodshot eyes looked tired and wom

He picked up a small saucer of painkillers, tipped them into his mouth, and swallowed them. Then, he took a syringe of adrenaline and injected it into his vein with practiced ease.

The truth was, the pain had woken him up this morning. His insides felt like they were being sliced by a knife a constant reminder that his days were numbered.

"Jarneson."

A frigid and deep voice sounded.

Jameson narrowed his eyes and looked up to see Remy approaching, tall and urgent.

"It's time for you to wake up from your dream. Jasper and that secret agent from the Taylor family, Mr. Axel, have arrived at the island. I need to take Ms. Alyssa away now. These are Sir's orders.