Once, my paranoid love

Anne cursed at her phone, “Fuck, pick up the phone.”

Anne’s frustration had reached its peak as she cursed at her phone, her desperate attempts to reach someone met with silence. The urgency in her voice was palpable as she shouted, “Where are you?” Her sense of helplessness only seemed to grow with every unanswered call.

But suddenly, a man’s voice cut through the tension in the room. “Anne, I’m here, honey,” the voice said, and a man named William Regan walked into the room. His presence seemed to be a source of relief, and the connection between them was evident as Anne’s tears flowed freely.

“I’m here,” William repeated, his words filled with reassurance and understanding. The emotions that passed between them spoke of a history and a connection that had endured the test of time.

Anne couldn’t contain her emotions, and she rushed over to William, her tears streaming down her face. It was clear that they had known each other for a long time, and the depth of their bond was undeniable.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Calm down and tell me slowly,” William gently urged, his voice a soothing presence in the midst of Anne’s distress. He wanted to understand the situation and offer comfort to the woman he cared for deeply.

Anne’s voice trembled as she spoke, her fear and anxiety evident in her words. “Calm down? How? Do you know Mr. Houston has abducted our son?” Her desperation and concern were clear, and she sought comfort and understanding from the man who had just walked into the room.

“What do you mean? Houston? I think I’ve heard that name before,” William replied, his confusion palpable. The name Derek Houston seemed to stir some vague memories, but he couldn’t quite place it.

Anne’s voice cracked as she clarified, “His name is Derek Houston.” The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air as she revealed the name, hoping that it would trigger a response in William.

“Derek,” William murmured, his brows furrowing as he tried to connect the dots. The name seemed to hold significance, and it tugged at the recesses of his memory.

As Anne pressed him for answers, William’s mind raced. ‘Derek! I know this name. However, this is not possible. I had buried that chapter for a long time. There are also thousands of Dereks in this city. I’ve never heard of Houston’s having a son,’ he thought, desperately trying to piece together the fragments of memory that were resurfacing.

But he knew he needed to remain composed. In an effort to regain control, he responded to Anne, “What are you thinking? Don’t you know who he is?”

Anne’s abrupt question seemed to hang in the air, demanding an answer that could shed light on the mysterious connection between Derek Houston and the memories that William was struggling to unearth.

William’s response was filled with confusion and a tinge of disbelief. “I used to know one Derek, but it’s been a long time. And he wasn’t from Houston,” he explained, his voice carrying the weight of a memory that had long been buried. The revelation that Anne had made about Derek Houston stirred a deeply buried past, one he had tried to forget.

Anne, puzzled by his response, sought clarification. “What are you talking about?”

With a heavy sigh, William chose to reveal a dark and haunting truth. “I’m talking about my dead wife. She had a son. But I killed both of them.” His confession hung in the air, a revelation that shattered the calm that had briefly settled in the room.

Anne’s initial response was marked by indifference to his revelation. “Whatever, I’m not interested in your dead wife. I want my Paul back, William.” Her desperation and longing for her son were evident as her eyes welled up with tears.

“He will kill my son. Elena will not spare my son,” she added, her voice trembling with fear. The threat that Paul posed to their son was a source of deep concern, and Anne was struggling to find a solution to the complex and dangerous situation they were in.

William, still reeling from his own confession, furrowed his brows in confusion. “What’s wrong with her?” He couldn’t comprehend the depth of the situation and the dangers that seemed to be closing in.

Anne went on to reveal the depths of Paul’s obsession with Elena. “Paul is interested in Elena. Even Paul tried to kill Robert for Elena. He is completely obsessed with her. You know about his paranoid disorder, right? If Elena tells Paul to kill me, I’m sure he’ll do it without hesitation. He’s crazy for her.” Fear was evident in her eyes as she spoke, and it was clear that they were dealing with a dangerous and volatile situation.

William’s question was marked by frustration and confusion as he asked, “Then why didn’t you let him marry her?” He couldn’t fathom Anne’s reasons for not allowing Paul to marry Elena, given the dire situation they were facing.

Anne’s response was laced with anger and resentment, her emotions bubbling to the surface. “William, are you crazy? What would I say to Robert if I did, and what would I say to society? Plus, I hate that scumbag.” Her disdain for Elena was evident, and the depth of her animosity couldn’t be denied.

William’s mocking response only fueled the tension in the room. “Yes, that’s right. If I were crazy, how would you spend your life in such lavishness?”

Anne’s words, spoken with fierce intensity, revealed a long-standing resentment that had festered over time. “I got it in my own way, William. You did not support me. You could have chosen me when I was pregnant, but you didn’t. Instead of me, you chose money and fame. I divorced Han because you forced it.” Her accusation was a painful reminder of the choices they had made in the past, choices that had left their relationship strained and unresolved.