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We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm by Coren Elen Vey 20

We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm by Coren Elen Vey 20

We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm by Coren Elen Vey 20 Summary

In “We Were Thunder Pretending to Be Lovers in the Storm,” Freya experiences a jarring encounter with her former rival, Sinclair, after seven years apart. Their past was marked by intense rivalry, and Freya feels a wave of humiliation as she confronts him while she is at her lowest point. Sinclair’s presence is both imposing and unsettling, reminiscent of a Greek statue, and Freya’s heart races with anxiety at the thought of being recognized by him. However, when Sinclair does not recognize her, Freya feels a sense of relief wash over her, allowing her to navigate the encounter with a semblance of confidence.

As Sinclair intervenes on behalf of Freya, confronting a lecherous man who had insulted her, the tension in the scene escalates. Sinclair’s authoritative demeanor and the fear he instills in the man highlight his protective nature. The lecher’s humiliation serves as a reminder of Sinclair’s formidable presence, while Freya’s fragile state becomes more apparent. Sinclair’s cold gaze and commanding presence leave a lasting impression on both Freya and the lecher, emphasizing his role as a protector in a world that often feels threatening to her.

After the encounter, Freya returns to her home, where she grapples with her emotions and the remnants of her past. The garden, now adorned with yellow roses, symbolizes her desire for renewal and reclaiming her identity. Freya’s interactions with Lucy and Felix reveal the complexities of her new life, as she begins to prioritize her own desires over those of others. The tension between Freya and Felix, marked by his anger over the garden changes, illustrates the shifting dynamics in their relationship. Freya’s resolve to reclaim her place in the company and assert her independence marks a pivotal moment in her journey toward self-discovery and empowerment.

Overall, the chapter captures Freya’s internal struggle and her gradual transformation as she navigates her past and present. The emotional weight of her encounter with Sinclair and her interactions with those around her serve as a backdrop for her journey of self-assertion and growth.

Continue Regular Chapter Reading Below

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

A man like Sinclair, once encountered, etched himself indelibly into the canvas of one’s life, a bold stroke that could never be forgotten, even after just a fleeting moment in his presence. The very thought of him sent a shiver down Freya’s spine, igniting memories of their past—a tumultuous clash of fire and ice. Professor Pierce had once jested that they were two equally brilliant rivals, destined to ignite sparks whenever they shared the same space, yet ultimately unable to coexist in harmony.

Now, as Freya stood there, the tall, lean silhouette of Sinclair approached her, his custom-tailored suit accentuating his sharply defined features. He resembled a Greek statue, carved with an almost divine austerity—an imposing figure that demanded reverence, one that was difficult to gaze upon directly. His presence had evolved over the past seven years; it was steadier now, darker, like a fathomless whirlpool that threatened to consume everything in its path without a sound.

Freya’s heart raced as she yearned to escape this encounter. Running into her former nemesis at her lowest ebb while he thrived was a humiliation she could hardly bear. The idea that Sinclair might recognize her sent a wave of panic through her. Given how much he had detested her in their past, the thought of him laughing at her misfortune in his dreams was mortifying.

“Apologize to this… ‘blind’ lady,” Sinclair’s voice cut through the air again, sharp and commanding.

At those words, the tension that had gripped Freya’s mind began to unravel. Relief washed over her; Sinclair hadn’t recognized her! Seven years had passed, after all. She had shed a considerable amount of weight, and with her sunglasses concealing much of her face, it was entirely plausible he wouldn’t make the connection.

From the corner of his eye, Sinclair caught a glimpse of her hand gripping the white cane, and his shoulders relaxed, almost imperceptibly. A subtle curve of amusement graced his lips, deepening the intrigue in his eyes.

Tch, still so easy to fool, he mused inwardly, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

The lecher, still reeling from his earlier humiliation, felt Sinclair’s forbidding aura wash over him. With Miles gripping his arm tightly, he sensed that one wrong move could lead to his undoing. Bowing his head in submission, he stammered, “I’m sorry, miss. I drank too much and offended you. Please forgive me.”

“Drunk? Then go find a place to lie down,” Sinclair replied lightly, his tone laced with disdain.

“Yes, yes…” The man bobbed his head, eager to escape, and hurried away, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Freya said, deliberately altering her voice, raising its pitch to sound more demure. “Could you tell me which way to the elevator?”

Sinclair paused, his gaze sweeping over her, taking in her fragile form. She was so thin, almost ethereal. The sunglasses obscured most of her face, revealing only the sharp tip of her chin, pale under the harsh light, with delicate veins visible beneath her fragile skin, like a porcelain doll that could shatter with the slightest touch.

Just as the weight of his stare made her skin prickle and she prepared to make her escape, Sinclair’s thin lips parted.

“Miles, see the lady downstairs.”

“Yes, sir.”

“To the elevator will be fine,” Freya interjected quickly, her heart pounding. All she wanted was to distance herself from Sinclair as swiftly as possible.

As her figure disappeared around the corner, guided by Miles, Sinclair withdrew his gaze, the warmth in his eyes extinguished, leaving only a cold void.

15:02

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

63.3%

Chapter 20

With his hands casually tucked into his pockets, Sinclair strolled forward at a leisurely pace, his mind swirling with thoughts. At the end of the long corridor lay an open-air terrace, framed by an antique screen, where the air was thick with tension.

The lecher, still simmering from his earlier embarrassment, was huddled in a corner, his voice low and menacing as he snarled into his phone.

“…Bring more guys; tonight I’m getting even! Some pretty boy dared to pull that hero act in front of me!”

A lewd grin spread across his face, fueled by thoughts of Freya’s delicate, helpless demeanor. His free hand wandered lower, a predatory gleam in his eye. “Leave a few men at the intersection—bring that chick back to me! That blind little thing’s got a real kick to her, and her voice… bet she’s even better in bed—”

But his scheming was abruptly interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

Tap-tap-tap—

Each step resonated in the quiet night, striking every nerve with a sense of impending doom. He turned and froze. There stood Sinclair, a specter of judgment, looming behind him.

The oppressive force radiating from Sinclair made the man flinch involuntarily. A cigarette smoldered between Sinclair’s fingers, the white smoke curling around him, obscuring his expression, save for those black eyes—burning with a deadly chill.

“Didn’t you understand me the first time?” Sinclair’s voice was low, yet it carried an unmistakable weight.

The man swallowed hard, his instincts screaming at him to flee. He barely managed to take a step before two bodyguards, clad in black suits, swiftly kicked his knees out from under him.

Thud!

He crashed to the ground, the sound of cracking bones echoing in the stillness. Pain stole his voice, and before he could even scream, a hand clamped over his mouth, silencing him.

Sinclair closed the distance, looking down at him with an expression that was as cold as death itself.

“Knock every last tooth out of his mouth.”

With that, he turned away, striding towards the terrace railing. From this vantage point, he could just make out the edge of the main entrance.

Silently, he watched as the slender figure of Freya, cane tapping rhythmically against the ground, climbed into a business van.

“Freya…” he murmured, the frost in his eyes thawing slightly. As he watched the vehicle drive away, he added softly, “Long time no see.”

The words were too soft; the night wind swept them away, scattering them like leaves in a storm.

When Freya returned to the villa, Felix was still out. The garden, now a vibrant display of transplanted yellow roses, swayed gracefully under the moonlight, a stark contrast to the chaos in her heart.

Lucy stood at the door, and the moment Freya appeared, she furtively snapped a few photos, her eyes glinting with a mix of disdain and curiosity before she approached as if nothing had transpired.

“Madam, you’re back,” she said, a smile plastered on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Freya offered a small nod, her mind already racing ahead. “Please run me a bath.”

“Yes, madam,” Lucy replied, the smile fading as soon as Freya turned away, rolling her eyes in a gesture of contempt. In her mind, the title of Mrs. Pearson belonged solely to Vanessa, not to Freya.

15:02

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

64.4%

Chapter 20

Freya couldn’t care less about Lucy’s disdain. This “Mrs. Pearson” role wouldn’t belong to her for much longer anyway.

After soaking in the hot water and working the acupuncture points in her legs, she calculated that just two more treatments would see her fully recovered. Then it would be time to reclaim her place in the company.

She had just finished dressing when she heard the unmistakable sound of movement downstairs.

Peeking out the window, she spotted Felix’s car pulling into the driveway.

He paused upon seeing the roses, his expression a mix of shock and fury. She could almost envision the storm brewing in his mind.

A faint smile curled on her lips.

For so many years, she had placed Felix above all else, almost forgetting her own desires and preferences.

Now, she was finally living for herself.

Her gaze softened as it fell upon Etty and Emmy, who were beside him, their innocent presence a balm to her frayed nerves.

Taking her cane firmly in hand, she descended the stairs. “Felix, you’re back,” she called out, her voice steady.

His face darkened, and the first words out of his mouth were accusatory. “Why on earth did you rip out all the tulips in the garden without telling me?”

Freya smiled innocently, her tone playful as she tossed the blame back to him. “I called you this morning and said I wanted someone to tidy the garden. Didn’t you say whatever it was at home, I could decide?”

“….” He faltered, unable to refute her logic.

Indeed, he had said it—though he hadn’t envisioned she would go so far as to uproot all the tulips and replace them with bright yellow roses.

Conclusion

In the tumultuous dance of emotions that Freya and Sinclair shared, the chapter culminates in a bittersweet realization for both. Freya stands on the precipice of reclaiming her identity, shedding the remnants of her past while confronting the shadows of her former rival. Sinclair, too, is caught in a web of nostalgia and unresolved tension, watching Freya from a distance, the warmth in his gaze a fleeting reminder of their shared history. Their paths, once intertwined in rivalry and disdain, now diverge yet again, leaving behind echoes of what once was and what could be. The storm that raged between them has quieted, but the thunder lingers, a promise of potential storms yet to come.

As Freya returns to her new reality, she embraces her independence with a newfound strength, ready to carve out a space for herself in a world that once seemed so constricted. The vibrant yellow roses in the garden symbolize her blossoming spirit, a stark contrast to the chaos she has endured. Meanwhile, Sinclair’s silent acknowledgment of her departure serves as a haunting reminder of the connection they still share, even in separation. Both characters stand at a crossroads, each grappling with their own demons while subtly acknowledging the unspoken bond that persists between them. In this moment, they are not just echoes of the past but harbingers of what the future may hold, hinting at the possibility of reconciliation or further conflict as they navigate their respective journeys forward.

What to Expect in Next Chapter?

**What to Expect in the Next Chapter?**

As the story unfolds, readers can anticipate a riveting clash of wills between Freya and Sinclair, whose past rivalry is poised to reignite with unexpected fervor. With Freya’s newfound independence and determination to reclaim her life, the tension between her and Sinclair will escalate, challenging both characters to confront their unresolved feelings and the ghosts of their shared history. Will Freya’s resolve hold firm against Sinclair’s magnetic pull, or will the allure of their past threaten to unravel her hard-earned progress?

Moreover, the looming threat from the lecher, now emboldened by his humiliation, adds an ominous layer to the narrative. Sinclair’s protective instincts will be put to the test as he navigates the treacherous waters of his past animosities while safeguarding Freya from the dangers that lurk in the shadows. As the stakes rise, readers can expect heart-pounding confrontations and a deeper exploration of the characters’ motivations, revealing the complexities of love, rivalry, and redemption. With the garden’s transformation symbolizing Freya’s blossoming strength, the next chapter promises to be a tempest of emotions, where every choice could lead to either liberation or entrapment.

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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