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We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm by Coren Elen Vey 19

We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm by Coren Elen Vey 19
Posted by Sara Lili, ? Views, Released on November 5, 2025
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We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm by Coren Elen Vey 19 Summary

In “We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm,” Freya feels a surge of anger as she contemplates confronting a deceitful couple but decides to slip away quietly instead. Meanwhile, in a private room, Dean watches Vanessa, who is playfully interacting with a child, while he grapples with his emotions upon realizing that Freya has recently woken from a long slumber. Felix, who is aware of Freya’s condition, reveals that she is blind, leaving Dean shocked and confused about the woman he thought he saw earlier.

Freya, trying to navigate her way back, finds herself lost and encounters a drunken man who treats her with disdain, underestimating her vulnerability. Despite her blindness, she remains resolute and confrontational, ready to defend herself against his advances. As the situation escalates, a well-dressed stranger intervenes, showcasing confidence and strength, and swiftly neutralizes the threat posed by the drunken man. This act of protection brings a sense of relief to Freya, but it also stirs memories of a significant figure from her past.

The tension heightens when Sinclair, a man from Freya’s past, appears in the hallway, evoking a flood of emotions and memories from seven years ago. His presence is both a shock and a reminder of the unresolved feelings that linger between them. Freya’s heart races as she recalls their shared history, highlighting the emotional weight of their connection. The story captures the themes of confrontation, vulnerability, and the complexities of past relationships, as Freya navigates her present challenges while being drawn back into the memories of a pivotal moment in her life.

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**We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm by Coren Elen Vey**

Afraid that lingering any longer would unleash her pent-up fury, leading her to storm in and deliver a well-deserved slap to that deceitful duo, Freya adjusted her sunglasses with a determined flick and slipped away silently, like a shadow retreating from the light.

Within the confines of the private room, Dean cast a sidelong glance at Vanessa, whose cheeks were tinged with a rosy hue from the light-hearted teasing that surrounded them. He downed the remaining wine in his glass, the complex emotions swirling within him reflected in the way he set the empty glass down with a soft thud.

As he did so, a fleeting silhouette caught his eye through the door’s crack. For a heartbeat, he froze, his heart skipping a beat. The figure seemed oddly familiar, stirring something deep within him.

“Stop messing around, Emmy,” Felix said with a lighthearted tone, drawing his hand back from where his daughter had placed it on the back of Vanessa’s hand. With a gentle, helpless smile, he lifted her off his lap. “Why don’t you go play with your brother in the other room?”

Dean observed as Vanessa departed with the little girl, her laughter echoing softly in the distance. Quietly, he rose from his seat and slid into the space next to Felix, a sense of urgency propelling him forward.

“Felix, what’s the situation with Freya now? Is she still not awake?” Dean asked, his voice blunt and laced with concern.

Felix hesitated, fingers hovering over his phone. “She woke up yesterday,” he replied, his tone measured.

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing. He glanced toward the door, piecing together that the woman he had seen outside must have been her.

“She’s blind,” Felix interjected coolly, his gaze steady. “No idea when she’ll recover. Freya has always been fiercely proud. Until she’s fully healed, I don’t want news of her waking up getting out.”

Blind? The realization struck Dean like a thunderbolt. It couldn’t have been her standing outside.

He swallowed hard, words lodged in his throat.

Felix’s attention shifted to a message Lucy had sent him two hours earlier:

Lucy: Mr. Pearson, Madam was picked up by a car!

Attached was an image of a license plate.

One glance was all it took for Felix to recognize it. Belle’s car.

He felt a wave of indifference wash over him.

Freya’s world was painfully small—beyond orbiting around him, her only friend was Belle. The Gale family had long since fallen from grace, and he had never held Belle in high esteem.

Sneaking out without informing him, she was clearly worried about his reaction.

A smug smile tugged at Felix’s lips. Her thoughts had always been as transparent as glass to him.

Meanwhile, Freya had intended to take a shortcut back, but her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, and she found herself lost on this unfamiliar floor.

As she scanned the wall and floor signs, a man suddenly emerged from around the corner, nearly colliding with her.

“Watch where you’re going, blind bitch!” he spat, his beer belly protruding obnoxiously, a thick gold chain glinting around a neck that was barely visible.

Clearly, he was a nouveau riche type here for some “entertainment.”

The stench of alcohol assaulted her senses. Not wanting to escalate the situation, she lowered her head and tapped her cane against the floor. “Sorry, I can’t see,” she replied, her voice steady.

Rather than retreating, the man’s interest seemed to peak.

“Well, well, so you really are blind,” he leered, his fleshy face inching closer. “You look pretty good, smell nice too. I’m a doctor—come on, let me treat those eyes.”

“Move,” she said, her tone icy.

The man clearly dismissed the frail-looking woman before him. “Say something nice, and I’ll let you pass. How about it?”

Perfect. She had been searching for an outlet for her pent-up rage.

Glancing at the security camera, she feigned helplessness, backing away slowly. “I don’t believe you’re a doctor. Don’t come closer, I… I’m scared…”

Seeing her vulnerable demeanor only fueled his drunken desire. He advanced eagerly until she found herself cornered against the wall, just out of the camera’s view.

“Don’t be afraid, little beauty. Come with brother to a private room tonight—I’ll take good care of everything,” he leered, his intentions clear.

A cold fire ignited beneath her sunglasses as she tightened her grip on the cane, already envisioning the precise strike that would incapacitate him, and the kick that would ensure he’d never threaten her again.

Just as his meaty hand reached for her, a sharply dressed man appeared seemingly out of nowhere, seizing the sleazebag’s wrist and twisting it with a fierce determination.

“Ahhh!” the man yelped.

Freya jumped at the sudden commotion, her gaze darting to the stranger—a man in his thirties, clad in a sharp suit, radiating an air of elite confidence. She was certain she’d never encountered him before.

Miles wasted no time. Grabbing the man’s head, he slammed it forcefully against the wall.

“Sir, if you’re drunk, it’s time to lie down. Need me to escort you?” he asked, his voice calm yet commanding.

Fear washed over the drunken man, causing half his bravado to evaporate.

“N-no… I’ll go back myself, myself…” he stammered, attempting to retreat.

But just as he turned to leave, a deep, cool voice resonated from behind, lightly laced with amusement, yet carrying an edge sharp enough to chill a man to the bone.

“Go back?”

Freya’s world came to a standstill.

That voice—

Slowly, she turned toward the sound, her heart racing.

A few meters away, Sinclair’s tall, elegant figure strode toward them, the hallway’s pale light casting a warm glow through her sunglasses, making him appear as though he were walking straight out of a sunset.

For a fleeting moment, she felt as if she had been transported back to the airport, seven years ago.

Seven years ago, Sinclair’s silhouette had perfectly overlapped with the one before her now.

“Freya… was it worth it?”

The words echoed from the depths of her memory, reverberating like the beat of a heavy drum, shaking her to her very core.

Seven years…

Conclusion

In the swirling chaos of emotions and the remnants of old wounds, Freya stood at the precipice of her past and present, the weight of seven years pressing down on her shoulders. Sinclair’s presence ignited a flicker of recognition and longing within her, a reminder of what was lost and the dreams that had once danced between them like the vibrant colors of a sunset. As the echoes of their shared history enveloped her, she felt the storm within her begin to calm, replaced by a fierce determination to reclaim her narrative. No longer would she be a mere shadow retreating from the light; she would confront the tempest head-on, wielding her cane not just as a tool for navigation but as a weapon of empowerment.

Meanwhile, Dean grappled with the realization of Freya’s struggles, the revelation of her blindness shifting his perspective like thunder rumbling in the distance. The emotional distance that had once separated them now felt insurmountable, yet the flicker of hope ignited within him urged him to bridge that gap. As Freya faced her fears, he too was called to confront his own—his feelings of regret, the weight of unspoken words, and the undeniable connection that still tethered them together. In that moment, beneath the stormy skies of their intertwined fates, both Freya and Dean found themselves on the cusp of transformation, ready to embrace the thunder of their past and the promise of a future that could still be forged anew.

What to Expect in Next Chapter?

In the next chapter of *We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm*, readers can expect a thrilling confrontation as Freya’s past collides with her present. With Sinclair’s unexpected arrival, the air is charged with unresolved tension and unspoken emotions. What secrets lie between them after all these years? Freya’s heart will race as she grapples with the familiar feelings that Sinclair’s presence stirs within her. The stakes are higher than ever, and the fragile façade she’s built around herself could shatter at any moment.

As the drama unfolds, Dean’s concern for Freya intensifies, leading him to question the choices that have brought them to this moment. Felix, with his smug demeanor, will likely play a pivotal role in manipulating the situation to his advantage, adding layers of complexity and intrigue. Will Freya find the strength to confront her past, or will the shadows of her previous life continue to haunt her? Anticipation builds as the characters navigate their tangled relationships, and the storm brewing both outside and within promises to unleash powerful revelations that could change everything.

We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm by Coren Elen Vey

We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm by Coren Elen Vey

Score 9.9
Status: Ongoing Type:
We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm by Coren Elen Vey

Coma for Five Years: I Woke Up and Ruined My Bastard Husband

The story opens with a brutal act of betrayal that sets the tone for everything to come.

Freya Hill, brilliant scientist, devoted wife, and new mother of twins, has finally reached her breaking point. Out of desperation and humiliation, she secretly sends Vanessa Yale—her husband Felix Pearson’s mistress—abroad to a top-tier international academy. She does it behind his back, hoping to cut off the poisonous relationship that’s been rotting their marriage from the inside.

But Felix Pearson—the cold-blooded CEO known for his ruthlessness in both business and emotion—finds out.

And he explodes.

The Cruel Bargain

The next day, Felix retaliates with a cruelty no sane man should be capable of. To punish his wife, he takes their newborn twins—barely one month old—onto a cruise ship bound for the Arctic. There, on the deck above an unforgiving sea, he uses the babies as hostages to force Freya into submission.

The scene is horrifying.

The ocean wind lashes against Freya’s face; the world spins as she sees her son, Ethan, lifted into the air by Felix’s assistant, held over the waves as if about to be dropped. Her cries tear through the freezing wind, but Felix’s voice remains steady, low, and merciless.

“Honey, you’ve got three minutes left to decide. Otherwise, our son’s going straight to the bottom of the sea.”

Every second is agony.

First minute: Freya remembers the five long years she spent secretly loving Felix before he ever noticed her. She had been nobody—an unremarkable woman from a humble background—while he was heir to one of the wealthiest families in the country. She had worshipped him from afar, never daring to demand anything, content just to stand in his shadow.

Second minute: She remembers how he once chose her over his powerful family. When she became pregnant and the Pearsons refused to accept her, Felix had dragged her to the courthouse and married her on the spot. They had twin babies the following year and, for a while, life had felt perfect.

He had smiled at her then. He had even seemed proud.

Third minute: Freya’s memory flashes to the night he took in his friend’s orphaned niece—Vanessa. On the girl’s twentieth birthday, Freya saw it: the yearning in Felix’s eyes, the tenderness he thought he was hiding. From that moment, Freya’s paradise had begun to crack.

They thought they were subtle, but to a wife who loved too deeply, every secret glance, every accidental touch between them, felt like a dull knife sawing at her heart.

Now, standing on that freezing deck, she realizes that knife was only the beginning.

Love vs. Life

The seconds vanish. Felix’s voice cuts through the roar of the sea.

“Three minutes are up, honey. So you want our kids to die, is that it?”

Freya can barely breathe. The wind stings her cheeks; her heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. She looks up at the man she once believed would die for her.

“Felix, Ethan is your biological son. You’re seriously threatening me with his life?”

His reply is calm, almost gentle.

“But Vanessa is my life.”

Her tears fall freely.
So that’s it—Vanessa is his life.
Then what are she and the children? Just burdens to be discarded?

He tries to justify himself, even now.

“Freya, I told you—there’s nothing between me and Vanessa. She’s just a little girl I helped raise. As long as she comes back, you’re still my wife.”

It’s the same lie he’s been telling her for years. Freya clings to the faint hope that somewhere inside him, there’s still a trace of the man she once loved.

“Felix, I don’t believe you’d actually kill our son over Vanessa. I didn’t even hurt her.”

But his voice turns glacial.

“Fine. Five-second countdown. If you don’t tell me where she is, Ethan feeds the sharks.”

“Five. Four. Three…”

When he actually starts to move, Freya breaks. Her scream shatters the night.

“Vanessa’s at Berkshire Academy in Boston!”

She collapses, shaking, sobbing, the taste of salt and despair thick in her mouth.

He really would have done it. He truly would have sacrificed their own child for that girl.

Felix doesn’t even look at her. He snatches his phone, eyes wild.

“Get the helicopter over here. I’m flying to Boston.”

As he gives the order, Freya watches his face—a face etched with panic and tenderness—but none of it is for her. It’s for Vanessa.

That unfamiliar expression crushes the last remaining pieces of her heart.

Ten Years of Devotion, One Moment of Destruction

As the helicopter blades begin to roar overhead, Freya’s body trembles. She stares at him, seeing memories flash before her eyes—ten years of love, loyalty, and sacrifice collapsing into dust.

She remembers the nights when he was still struggling to build his company. While Felix fought corporate battles, she worked in a laboratory day and night, developing the breakthrough drug that would make Etty Group a global success.

When he achieved victory, he had kissed her neck softly and whispered:

“Freya, you’re my rib—fused into my bones and blood.”

She had believed him. She had believed their story was one of partnership, not convenience. For a brief time, even his powerful family began to accept her, acknowledging the brilliance of her research and her quiet devotion.

She thought she’d finally proven she was worthy of him.

But everything changed when Vanessa entered their lives.

She was nine years younger, bubbly, spoiled, and unashamedly affectionate.

“Felix, I want you to stay with me.”
“Felix, I don’t get this problem—help me.”
“Felix, you have to come to my cello competition. If you don’t show up, I won’t play!”
“Felix, I really like you. I don’t want you to just be my uncle!”

Freya’s love had been quiet, stable, loyal. Vanessa’s was noisy, reckless, and intoxicating—and Felix drowned in it willingly.

Soon, they stopped pretending.
They flirted at dinner.
Their feet tangled under the table.
Their hands brushed a little too long.
Freya would find them whispering in corners—or worse, kissing in her living room while she stood in the kitchen, pretending not to see.

Every moment had been torture.

The Collapse

Now, years later, as the helicopter lifts off the deck, the noise deafens her. Felix doesn’t glance back even once. He climbs aboard without hesitation, consumed by the need to reach Vanessa.

Freya stands on the dock, clutching her phone like a lifeline. She sends him message after message, begging for the return of their children.

[I told you where she is! When can the kids come back?!]

The reply comes minutes later, as cold and dismissive as the man himself:

[In three hours. I only see Vanessa as my niece. Don’t misunderstand.]

The hypocrisy makes her laugh—a sharp, bitter sound.

Then another message arrives.
This time, not from Felix.

It’s from Vanessa.

[Freya, so what if I love Felix? He wants to be with me. He’s wild with me. He’s not into you anymore. You’re the one who won’t let him go.]
[Freya, Felix came to see me at school again tonight. We went to a hotel. He loved the lingerie I wore for him.]

Then come the videos—graphic, undeniable, filmed proof of Felix’s betrayal.

Freya stares until her vision blurs. Her heart, already cracked, finally turns to ash.

The Final Decision

Three hours later, as promised, her son is returned to her.

But by then, something inside Freya has already died.

She moves with eerie calm. No tears, no screams, no questions. She simply takes out her phone and opens a document she had buried deep in her digital vault—a marital contract, signed the day they wed.

Felix had drawn it up himself, insisting it was proof of his eternal love:

If the couple ever divorced, all of Felix Pearson’s assets would go to Freya Hill.

At the time, it had seemed romantic.
Now, it feels like poetic justice.

She unlocks the file, fingers steady, and sends out a new message.

[I’m in. Sign me up for Ocean’s Gate.]

Ocean’s Gate

To the outside world, Ocean’s Gate is a legend: an elite, ultra-secret international medical research program housed in a sealed underwater facility. Only the most brilliant minds on the planet are invited—and once you join, you disappear beneath the ocean for thirty years. No exits, no contact with the surface, no going back.

Freya doesn’t hesitate.

It’s the perfect escape.

Down there, she’ll be unreachable.
Felix will never find her—or the twins—again.

Above all, it means freedom: freedom from humiliation, from love that turned to poison, from a husband who could barter his own children’s lives for another woman’s smile.

End of Chapter 1

The chapter closes with Freya standing alone, phone in hand, the roar of the departing helicopter fading into the distance. She gazes at the endless sea—the same sea that almost claimed her son—and feels nothing but cold resolve.

The woman who once begged, cried, and compromised has vanished.

In her place stands a scientist who will bury her pain under miles of water and rebuild her life molecule by molecule.

She has lost her marriage, her illusions, and her faith in love—but she has found clarity.

When she resurfaces, thirty years from now—or whenever fate allows—Felix Pearson will face not the woman he broke, but the storm he created.

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