---- Chapter 15 Ally Gomez POV: A primal scream tore from my throat as Hanson dragged me into the darkness of the alley. My books scattered across the wet pavement. | kicked and fought, but he was stronger, fueled by a mad, desperate strength. \'Hanson, please!\" | sobbed, my feet scrambling for purchase on the slick cobblestones. Suddenly, a car screeched to a halt at the mouth of the alley, its headlights cutting through the gloom, freezing us like animals caught in the glare. The driver's side door flew open. Branson. He must have taken the first flight to London after breaking up with Kennedy. He looked as haggard and haunted as his brother, his expensive suit rumpled, his face pale with exhaustion and fear. \"Let her go, Hanson,\" Branson said, his voice low and dangerous. Hanson froze, his wild eyes shifting from me to his brother. For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other, a ---- silent, desperate battle of wills passing between them. \"You came for her,\" Hanson whispered, a broken, incredulous laugh escaping his lips. \"After everything. You still came for her.\" NVl said, let her go,\" Branson repeated, taking a step forward. That broke the spell. With a wild roar of pure, animalistic rage, Hanson shoved me aside and launched himself at his brother. They crashed into each other, a tangle of limbs and furious, guttural shouts. They were no longer the polished Ayers heirs. They were two broken men fighting over the wreckage they had created, their fists fueled by years of unspoken rivalry, guilt, and a desperate, toxic love for me. It was a brutal, ugly fight. They slammed each other against the brick walls, their grunts of pain echoing in the narrow alley. | scrambled to my feet, my heart hammering against my ribs, and | ran. | ran out of the alley, away from the sounds of their violence, and | didn't stop until | was safely inside my apartment, the door bolted and chained behind me. | sank to the floor, my body trembling uncontrollably. An hour later, there was a tentative knock on my door. \"Ally?\" It was Branson's voice, strained and heavy. \"Please. Just let me see if you're okay.\" | didn't answer. ---- \'He's gone,\" Branson continued, his voice closer now, as if he were leaning his forehead against the door. Vl sent him back to New York. He won't bother you again. | promise.\" Silence. \'Ally... | was wrong,\" he said, his voice cracking. \"About everything. | was a fool. A monster. | know that. | destroyed you. And | have to live with that. But I... | think | love you. | know | don't deserve to say it, but it's the truth.\" His confession, which should have been a triumphant moment of validation, felt like nothing. It was too late. The words were meaningless, empty shells falling on barren ground. \'Please,\" he begged, his voice a raw whisper. \'Just open the door. Let me apologize. Let me try to fix this.\" | remained silent, listening to the sound of his ragged breathing on the other side of the door. Finally, | spoke. My voice was calm, clear, and utterly devoid of emotion. \'There is nothing to fix, Branson,\" | said. \"You can't fix something that has been burned to ash. Now go away. And never, ever come back.\" | heard a sharp, broken sound, like a sob being choked back. For a long time, there was only silence. Then, | heard the faint sound of his retreating footsteps. ---- | stayed there, my back against the door, until the sun came up. | didn't cry. | didn't feel rage or sadness or even victory. | felt... free. Years passed. 1 | finished my degree at the LSE, graduating at the top of my class. | was recruited by a top investment firm in London, my sharp mind and relentless work ethic making me a rising star. The trauma of my past had forged me into someone new. | was cool, resilient, and emotionally guarded. | built a fortress around my heart, and its walls were ambition and independence. | found happiness in my work, in the friendships | forged, in the quiet, stable life | built for myself, brick by boring, beautiful brick. | even started dating again, cautiously. A kind, intelligent architect who knew nothing of my past, who loved me for the woman | had become, not the broken girl | had been. One day, my firm announced a major expansion. | was being promoted to head of the new North American division. | was being transferred back to New York. The first person | saw when | walked into our new Manhattan office was Branson Ayers. He was our firm' s new primary client. He had engineered the entire deal just to get to me. He looked older, his face etched with a permanent, weary ---- sadness, but his eyes lit up with a desperate, hopeful light when he saw me. \"Ally,\" he breathed. Later that week, | was leaving a restaurant after a late dinner when a man stepped in front of me. It was Hanson. He was sober, his hair was cut, and he wore a tailored suit, but the haunted, desperate look in his eyes was the same. He had become a celebrated, yet tormented, artist, his paintings all dark, chaotic expressions of pain and loss. \'I've never stopped loving you,\" he said, his voice raw. And so it began. The final act of their self-inflicted tragedy. They pursued me relentlessly. They sent flowers, gifts, letters filled with desperate, soul-baring apologies. They showed up at my office, at my apartment, at restaurants where | was dining with my new boyfriend. They became bitter rivals, sabotaging each other's attempts to win my favor, their fraternal bond completely dissolving in the acid of their shared obsession. They offered me everything. Their fortunes. Their companies. Their hearts, which they now claimed were mine and mine alone. | rejected it all. | would look at Branson in a board meeting, his eyes pleading with me, and | would coolly dissect his financial reports, my ---- voice never wavering. | would walk past Hanson on the street, his face a mask of anguish, and | would not even acknowledge his existence. My indifference was their torment. My happiness was their hell. One final time, they cornered me together outside my apartment building. They looked like ghosts, pale and exhausted from their pointless war. \'Ally, please,\" Branson begged, his voice breaking. \'Tell us what we can do. We' Il do anything.\" | looked at these two men who had once held my entire world in their hands. And | felt nothing. Not hatred. Not pity. Just a vast, empty distance. \"You want to know what you can do?\" | asked, my voice calm. \'You can do nothing. Because you have already done everything. You showed me exactly who you are. And you taught me exactly who | am. And for that, | will never forgive you.\" | turned and walked into my building, leaving them standing on the sidewalk in the deepening twilight. | never saw them again. | heard through the grapevine that their rivalry eventually destroyed their family' s company. Branson became a recluse. ---- Hanson' s art grew darker and more desperate until he faded into obscurity. They were left with nothing but their money and their ghosts, two brothers forever bound by their shared, irreparable regret. As for me? | married the architect. We have two beautiful children. My life is not a grand, dramatic romance. It is quiet, and it is peaceful, and it is happy. It is a life they can never touch. Title: A Princess? No! I'm the Female General! In "A Princess? No! I'm the Female General!" by CrushReel, Adela Taylor, a noble family's daughter, disguises herself as her brother to secure their Duke title by joining the army. Despite facing obstacles, she achieves remarkable success. However, upon her triumphant return, her brother betrays her, setting off a chain of events that will test her resolve and reveal hidden truths. This captivating novel delves into themes of secrets, reincarnation, revenge, murder, and drama. Adela's journey from deception to betrayal is filled with intrigue and suspense as she navigates through a world where power dynamics and family loyalties collide. What sets this story apart is its strong female lead who defies expectations and challenges societal norms in a quest for justice and redemption. Experience the riveting tale of Adela Taylor online at CrushReel and witness the transformation of a princess into a formidable female general.