Breaking Boundaries in Starlit Dreams

Chapter 1

This is the story of a young couple who come together through an arranged marriage to navigate the tumultuous entertainment industry.
Evelyn Hart was the secret child of a woman from the streets. After his mother passed away when he was just five, he was sent to live with his father, where he was raised by his father's legitimate wife.
For twenty-eight years, he carefully sought his parents’ approval, sacrificing his passion for writing to pursue a degree in finance, hoping to prove his worth. Yet, in the end, he became embroiled in family disputes over inheritance and was murdered, all while realizing he had always been an outsider at Hart Manor.
Now, Evelyn finds himself ten years back in time, ready to let go of the fragile bonds of family and live for himself. This time, he’s determined to chase his dream of writing—he even hopes to become a screenwriter if the opportunity arises.
But even with his newfound resolve, he finds himself pulled into conflicts he never wanted to be a part of.
At this pivotal moment, the Shaws’ matchmaking banquet sparks an idea in him. Perhaps through an arranged marriage, he could escape the murky waters of Hart Manor and secure his future alongside the Shaw family.
What he never expected was that the Shaw family’s second son, Benedict Shaw—who recently got out of prison after taking the fall for his older brother—would turn out to be a dedicated fan of his writing. Benedict, known for his stoic demeanor and silence, becomes an unexpected connection for Evelyn.
**Characters:**
- Evelyn Hart: The child of a fallen woman, navigating the complexities of family and his dreams.
- Benedict Shaw: The silent guardian with a hidden softness, whose loyalties and intellect will challenge Evelyn's resolve.
**Plot Summary:**
Evelyn Hart, raised in the grand yet stifling Hart Manor, has always walked the line between acceptance and rejection. After finding himself wrongfully accused in his family's tragic web, he gets a second chance at life—both to embrace his literary passions and to seize the opportunity presented by the wealthy Shaw family.
As he connects with the enigmatic Benedict, both men discover the depths of their shared pain and the power of love blossoming from hardship. Their journey together reveals sweet exchanges filled with understanding and support, providing the warmth and tenderness that shines in stark contrast to their troubled pasts.
Through their interactions and budding romance, Evelyn and Benedict not only heal from their family wounds but also support each other in the demanding world of the entertainment industry.
Their story—rooted deep in loss yet blossoming with hope—unfolds against the glamorous, chaotic backdrop of fame and fortune, where every moment is tinged with sweetness and every decision carries the weight of their entwined futures.

Chapter 2

In the dead of night, torrential rain poured down as a sleek Virage sped along the King’s Highway between Brambleton and Crown Falls.
Evelyn Hart was no stranger to driving fast; she often pushed her car to the brink of speeding limits. The thrill of high-speed driving had captured her ever since she had started underground racing at sixteen, encouraged by her older brother, Julian. However, after graduating from college and taking a job at Hart Corporation, Evelyn had refrained from racing for six long years, wanting to appear responsible to her father, Sir William Hart. Now, on this desolate stretch of highway, with not another car in sight, she finally found an opportunity to indulge her need for speed.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the passenger seat. Glancing quickly at the screen, she saw it was her mother, Lady Margaret Hart. She pressed the button on her Bluetooth earpiece, answering the call.
“Hello, Mother…”
“Don’t call me that.”
The sharp, acid-tinged voice crackled through the earpiece, surprisingly hoarse and weary. Evelyn felt a jolt of pain in her chest. She knew why her mother sounded this way. Since her older brother, Thomas, had been killed by Julian two months ago, Lady Margaret had directed her grief and anger at Evelyn as if she were the enemy.
Perhaps her mother couldn’t bring herself to hate her own daughter, so all the resentment landed on her instead. Evelyn bitterly thought. Julian was responsible for Thomas's death, and while she had no part in the event, being connected to Julian put her directly in her mother’s crosshairs. As Thomas’s former rival, it was only natural for Lady Margaret to unleash her wrath upon her.
With the refusal to call her ‘Mother’ hanging in the air, Evelyn paused for a moment before responding, her tone more respectful, “Lady Margaret, how can I help you?”
A heavy silence filled the line, and Evelyn could only hear her mother’s labored breathing. She wasn’t sure what else to say; she had always been timid around Lady Margaret and couldn't find the courage to hang up, leaving the conversation in an uncomfortable stalemate.
After several agonizing minutes, Lady Margaret finally spoke. “I remember the first time you arrived at Hart Manor over twenty years ago. You were just five years old, small and thin, but with a fair and lovely little face, just like a porcelain doll.”
Evelyn’s throat tightened. “I… I owe you everything for the way you’ve raised me...”
“If I had known how spoiled and troublesome a little girl you’d become, I would have thought twice about keeping you.”
Lady Margaret’s words dripped with contempt, a stark contrast to her usual poised demeanor as Hart’s matriarch. Evelyn shuddered, nearly choking on her words. “Mother, you…”
“Do you think I care what others would say about the Hart family? The only reason I treated you with any semblance of decency was to avoid scandal,” Lady Margaret’s voice sharpened, nearly breaking. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, all I wanted was to send you away to South Isle so you could end up like your mother, selling yourself to survive. You’re nothing but a lowly creature, born for shameful things.”
Evelyn stood frozen, her mouth agape as she struggled to respond, shaking in disbelief, her grip on the steering wheel faltering.
“I let you grow up safely at Hart Manor, provided for you like my own children, gave you a good education, and even allowed Julian to take you into Hart Corporation. What more do you want? If not for my patience, you'd be out on the corner somewhere. How dare you repay my kindness by letting your brother die? Are you even human? Animals know how to be grateful. If I had known you were such an ungrateful wretch, I would have seen to it that you never set foot in my home.”
She listened numbly, the pounding of her heart against her ribcage rising to such an intensity that it felt like it could shatter her chest. It took her breath away, and when she finally gasped for air, a sob escaped her lips. She cupped her mouth instinctively, only to realize her cheeks were wet with tears.
For over twenty years, she had revered Lady Margaret as her own mother, tiptoeing around her and always obedient. The cool indifference Lady Margaret had shown her, akin to a relative visiting Hart Manor, was painful enough. Yet, Evelyn had held on to the hope that there was still a place for her in her mother’s heart.

Chapter 3

Evelyn Hart had spent years trying to earn a place in the heart of Lady Margaret Hart, yet it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he was still viewed as an outsider—no, worse than that. She looked down on him, loathed him, and deep down, he sensed that she wished him dead. In that moment, his heart felt as if it had frozen solid, a chill radiating from his core to his fingertips, leaving him numb and stiff all over.
Evelyn’s mother was a high-class escort who had given birth to him to secure her future, never imagining the pressures that motherhood would bring. Yet, as soon as she became a mother, she poured all her love onto little Evelyn, cherishing him fiercely.
While she was alive, they lived in an upscale neighborhood in the heart of Brambleton, where every inch of real estate was like gold. Even though the adults around them were discreet and adept at maintaining a semblance of civility, sensitive little Evelyn quickly picked up on the disdain in their gazes and the ostracism from the other children in the community. He understood that his mother’s profession was not something to brag about.
No one allowed their children to interact with him. Even a simple conversation was deemed taboo. The other kids didn’t think twice about their parents’ orders; they simply isolated him, unwittingly becoming a united front against him. The outcast, shunned by all, had a strange power to solidify bonds among the group. They would gather to chant nursery rhymes filled with mockery, trailing behind Evelyn and belting out taunts. Some of the words went over his head, yet he instinctively knew they weren’t kind.
How strange; the cruelty of childhood seemed innate. It didn’t matter if their parents were uneducated laborers or educated professionals with high-paying jobs. Whether they lived in crumbling tenements or luxurious high-rises in the heart of the city, bullying, belittling, and shaming came naturally to children. Where else could the endless parade of catchy jingles meant to insult him have come from?
Every time Evelyn stepped out of his house, a band of laughing, singing children would follow him. If he ignored them, they would chant and laugh, but the moment he turned around, they would scream and scatter as if a monster were charging at them. Whenever he couldn’t hold back and fought back, it was inevitably him who bore the brunt, while Lady Margaret would then drag him around, apologizing to each child's parents, bowing her head in humiliation.
There was no drama of public outbursts, but those well-dressed, soft-spoken parents stood in their doorways, their faces marked by disdain as if they were vigilantly guarding against something. They would open their doors barely a crack, only to dismiss his mother coldly with a "It's nothing" before shutting the door in her face. Others offered thinly veiled scorn with words like, "You ought to teach your son better, educate him in civility; living around here, he should know at least basic manners." And then, without waiting for her to respond, they would close the door. Each time, little Evelyn felt as though he had been slapped hard across the face.
Hearing Lady Margaret’s words now propelled Evelyn back to those stinging memories; her voice echoed in his mind, each word like a slap that left him reeling.
He thought of resigning himself to the truth he had long evaded. Evelyn felt crushed, realizing he shouldn’t have deluded himself into believing he belonged to the Hart Family. To Sir William, he was just a continuation of a scandal. To Lady Margaret, he represented proof of her husband’s infidelity. To his three siblings, he was merely the shameful offspring of a disgraceful woman, a threat to their perfect family and an enemy in the battle for inheritance. They had never directly harmed him, but years of silent scorn—cold shoulders, indifference, and barely-concealed contempt—had made their message crystal clear.
Ironically, he had devoted years to pleasing every member of the Hart family, dreaming of becoming a real part of their world. He abandoned his own aspirations to fulfill their desires, only to find himself met with suspicion and derision in the end.
Maybe it was time to leave. He was never meant to be part of this elite lineage; the feuds among the noble houses were not his to navigate.

Chapter 4

Evelyn Hart felt the weight of impending doom as she contemplated her family’s legacy. With her second brother, Julian Hart, now at the helm of Hart Corporation, the stakes had become dangerously high. She couldn't shake the sensation that if she lingered any longer, her family’s dark dealings might pull her down too.
"Mom... no, Lady Margaret Hart, I promise you this," Evelyn said, her voice tremulous with resignation, "I'll resign from Hart Corporation tomorrow and move out. I won’t cause you any more trouble."
"You think you can just walk away after all the damage you've done?" Lady Margaret's voice was cold, laced with bitterness.
Evelyn felt a shiver run down her spine; her instincts screamed at her that things were about to spiral out of control.
"Consider it, Evelyn. After all these years enjoying the perks, it's only right you spend some time with your real mother," Lady Margaret mocked before disconnecting the call.
The blaring beep in her ear sent Evelyn into a dizzying spiral of confusion. She stared blankly at the rain streaking down her windshield, her mind racing as fear gripped her. She was driving too fast; the reality of it hit her harder than the rain hitting the glass.
Her arms stiffened, panic washing over her as she attempted to disengage the cruise control. She pressed the button repeatedly, frustration mounting as the speed neglected to shift, stubbornly remaining locked at 75 miles per hour. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead, her legs trembling as she gripped the steering wheel.
Evelyn’s heart raced while her thoughts turned chaotic. She needed to recall the simplest solution – calling for help. Fumbling for her phone, her hands shook violently, nearly dropping it in the throbbing chaos of the car.
Finally managing to dial, she forced herself to breathe slowly as she explained her predicament to the operator, hoping to maintain a semblance of calm.
“Sir, please don’t panic. We’re dispatching assistance your way. Just keep driving; we’ll alert the toll ahead to let you pass. Help will arrive soon,” the operator assured, their voice soothing as if promising her safety.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Evelyn replied weakly, a sense of relief washing over her momentarily as her heartbeat gradually slowed.
Then, in an instant, something dark shot out from the side of the road, crashing violently against her windshield. The glass shattered, a surge of pain blossoming in her chest; the thing that had struck her was a heavy iron pipe.
Suddenly, chaos ensued. The car lurched violently as she lost control; the world spun around her as her vehicle careened toward the concrete barrier. She gripped the wheel hard, but the loss of control was irreversible. The car flipped over the barrier and rolled three times before finally coming to a stop on the side of the highway.
Evelyn remained buckled into the mangled driver's seat. The airbag deployed but did little to cushion her; instead, it pressed down on her body, and the remnants of her car surrounded her like a cage of twisted metal. Her breath came in gasps as she fought through the agonizing pain.
What felt truly lethal, however, was the metal pipe jutting cruelly from her chest, blood seeping around it as her strength ebbed away.
Dazed, Evelyn struggled to keep her eyes open, her fading consciousness clouded with shadows. Rain trickled onto her face, chilling her core and mixing with her blood. Just as darkness threatened to claim her, she noticed a figure hovering nearby—a man stepping out of the downpour.
“Help me,” she mouthed silently, desperation coloring her gaze.
The stranger leaned closer, his expression unreadable. After observing her for a moment, he exhaled deeply, pity etched across his face. “I’m sorry, Evelyn. It wasn’t my intention to kill you. Your mother, Lady Margaret Hart, wanted this. I’m merely doing my job. If you become one of those restless spirits, don’t come looking for me.”
He offered a shallow bow, almost as if paying respect, then turned and vanished into the rain.
Evelyn's lips barely formed a choked laugh, blood trailing from the corner of her mouth as she felt her consciousness slipping. For minutes, she fought valiantly against the encroaching darkness, only to succumb, her head rolling to one side as she took her last breath.
The next day, news of the tragic death of the Hart heir made headlines across the nation. Reports detailed how Evelyn had sped recklessly on a rainy night and endured a sequence of unfortunate events that led to a fatal accident, including a robbery gone wrong where robbers had deliberately placed obstacles on the highway to instigate crashes.
While such robberies were not unusual, this incident stood apart—Evelyn's car had been utterly destroyed, and she had not survived. This prompted the authorities to announce strict inspections along the highways to tackle the growing threat to public safety, aiming to put an end to these heinous acts that jeopardized drivers and passengers alike.

Chapter 5

Evelyn Hart jolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat, trembling all over. He shakily touched his chest, repeatedly reassuring himself that there was no steel pipe piercing through, nor any scars to haunt him. After a moment, he exhaled slowly and closed his eyes, trying to relax.
It had been two weeks since he had been reborn to ten years prior, but each night ended with him waking from nightmare after nightmare, reliving the horror of the night he had died in his previous life. No one could endure such a traumatic death without lasting scars. Evelyn wasn't sure how profoundly that accident had affected him, but he knew one thing for certain: he was terrified to drive. For the past couple of days, he had insisted on being chauffeured and had instructed the driver to stick to the lowest speed limit on the roads.
To Sir William Hart, this behavior was merely that of a spoiled rich kid, and he had chastised Evelyn multiple times at the dinner table. Fortunately, Lady Margaret Hart, unlike in ten years’ time when she would vehemently resent Evelyn due to her sons’ strife over the family fortune, was more sympathetic at this moment. She gently advised him that while the other kids drove themselves, it was perfectly safe to have a driver take him. This momentarily put an end to Sir William's tirade.
In the past, Evelyn would have been gratefully appreciative of Lady Margaret’s intervention and would have timidly apologized to Sir William, never allowing the driver to take the wheel again. Even in his fear-induced turmoil, he would have insisted on driving. But now, Evelyn was no longer the timid child desperate to please his family. He had no intention of using his pain to win his father’s approval. So, despite Sir William’s angry remarks, he kept silent. Even when Lady Margaret spoke on his behalf, he merely responded with a lukewarm “thank you,” feeling no remorse whatsoever.
He couldn’t face the man who would cruelly take his life a decade later without a heavy heart.
After catching his breath, Evelyn lay back down, closing his eyes again in an attempt to drift off into sleep. But as soon as he did, the nightmarish image of torrential rain and blood pouring from his chest flooded his mind. The dread from the dreams gripped him, as if something was lodged in his throat, preventing any chance of restful sleep.
Since sleep seemed impossible, Evelyn decided not to force it. He got out of bed, the coolness of the plush carpet under his bare feet grounding him as he made his way to the window. He sat down, staring at the distant, empty highway. The orange streetlights illuminated the road, giving it a surreal glow, as if it were ablaze.
Evelyn sat at the windowsill, allowing the breeze to brush against him, lost in thought until he finally felt somewhat calmer. He hopped down and settled at his desk, opening his laptop to check on the novel he had been serializing on Veyland Literary City.
The comment section was overflowing with hundreds of impatient messages, ranging from playful to anxious, and even veering into thinly veiled threats. Some had grown incensed, rage-filled comments accusing the author of negligence lashed at him, while others relentlessly downvoted chapter after chapter.
Evelyn meticulously read through each message, even the harshest critiques were not beneath his notice. Gradually, he found himself smiling, the oppressive weight in his chest began to lift.
Half an hour later, he had finished combing through the comments and read the lengthy reviews a few times for good measure. Satisfied, he opened his document and began typing.
Writing was Evelyn's greatest passion across two lifetimes; he had even contemplated becoming a full-time author. Growing up with his biological mother, he had retreated into comic books, finding solace there as neighborhood children constantly bullied him. Immersed in those stories, he began to imagine the worlds intertwined within those pages. But back then, he didn’t know how to write, so he’d entertain himself verbally, creating elaborate narratives in his imagination.
By the time he had learned to write, he was living at Hart Manor, burdened by feelings of inferiority. The shadows of his upbringing loomed large, stifling his former exuberance. The heaviness of his situation only deepened; he became self-conscious of speaking to himself aloud, fearing the glances from the staff who regarded him like he was mad. They gathered in hushed circles, gossiping about the boy who suddenly came into their lives, comparing him unfavorably to Lady Margaret’s children and making it their new pastime to undermine him and uphold the importance of bloodlines.

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