"Wait, what? How? When? What did he say?" Sheila was as confused as Amaliah was. "I don't know. He simply said my loan has been paid off." Sheila grabbed Amaliah's phone and called the number back but the call didn't go through. "This is bonkers. Are you sure he's not just playing with you? Maybe he wants you to lose guard so they'll hurt you." "I don't think so. He sounded cheerful, sincere. I think the loan has really been paid off. I'm stunned." "Wow. But . . ." "I know what you're thinking. Who could've paid it off? Why did they pay it off? Do you think it was one of our friends?" "I'm sorry, Amaliah, our friends love you but that's quite a sum." Sheila rubbed her friend's shoulder. "Yeah, I thought so too. I'm torn in between celebrating and being wary. What if that person paid it off because he or she has bad intentions? Like you said, that's quite a sum, no matter how much a person has." "I agree. We need some information, although I don't think Ted Williams will be kee
Three weeks and four days later. Caesar lay on his bed, simply staring at the ceiling, trying to think. Anastasia had changed within a few weeks. She was a lot more considerate, even if she still tried to drag him along with her to her late night parties that exhausted him to no end. She was a lot more polite to his friends and staff, tried her best to be with him as often as possible, had stopped throwing tantrums when she didn't get what she wanted, had stopped trying to gaslight him every chance she got. But Caesar concluded that he couldn't go through with the wedding. He didn't want to. Anastasia might've changed, but he wasn't sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, living a mundane life that only consisted of parties, sex and glamour. He loved kids and wanted one as soon as possible but she had told him that she never wanted kids—at least not from her own body—and if he wanted kids, he could adopt a grown kid and hire several nannies. She hated things like nap
"You're not mad?" She asked tentatively. Alarm bells went off in Caesar's head. He was hurt, but not angry. He had known deep down that even if Anastasia did change her ways, it would take years, not three weeks. Infact, he was actually quite glad. Instead of breaking up with her and having to go through her tantrums and meltdown, she had made it easier for him. He would not be the one to be tainted all over the media either—not that he planned to make their break-up public—incase Anastasia took it to the tabloids. But if he acted like he was not angry, she would sense that he had wanted to end the relationship before. Anastasia had an uncanny ability for sniffing out the truth, even if she was a pathological liar and an expert manipulator. She would then turn everything around and blame him for making her cheat. He could just imagine her saying, "I knew you were trying to break up with me, which is why I wanted to sleep with him to hurt you." Anastasia was known for blaming every
"Listen Stassie," Caesar's voice was weary now. "I need you to leave my house. I'm calling off the wedding immediately. I decided long ago that nothing you do or say will get to me." "Oh yeah? Says the emotionally weak man who would turn to putty the minute my hands are on him. You have a weakness for me, Caesar. I have you wrapped around my little finger and there's nothing you can do about it." As soon as he sat down on the sofa, she went over to him and straddled him, kissing him aggressively, biting his jaw, his lips, his ear. He gently picked her up and dumped her unceremoniously on the other side of him. He then picked up his phone and called her mom. She picked up on the third ring. "Have your driver come pick up your daughter." He said to her mom and hung up. Stassie flew at him. "Are you crazy? Why on earth did you call my mom?" She shrieked. Just then, two security men entered the house and grabbed Anastasia. "What the hell are you doing? Leave me alone! Don't touch
The next day, Amaliah stepped inside an elevator going up to her office, hoping she would not meet any one of the office gossip. As the doors of the elevator slid shut, someone stopped it and stepped in. Amaliah glanced up from her phone and winced. It was Caesar. She moved back and he stepped in. "Hello, Ms. Rivers." He nodded politely in her direction and pressed the elevator button."Mr Masterson." She gave him a tight smile.As they went up, she continued to text Sheila while he admired how ethereal she looked. She was dressed in mom jeans and silk blouse with a pair of low heeled sandals. He cleared his throat."Er… how're you?" He asked, smiling at her."Very well, thank you. I'm sorry about your broken engagement.""Oh… there's nothing to be sorry about. I mean, it's nothing serious. I mean, she wasn't serious…we weren't serious." He realised he was blabbing and promptly shut up. "I mean, a lot of people show sympathy but I'm relieved that the wedding won't be happening.""You
Amaliah sighed. "What am I doing, Sheila? This is so wrong.""It's not. You're simply moving on, living your life." Sheila grinned, finishing off the last bit of Amaliah's make-up."I really shouldn't. The girls are still grieving." Amaliah sighed again and stood up."That's what you think. Anyway, why are you overthinking this? It's just a dinner party." Sheila laughed. "You're making it sound like you're getting married."Amaliah nodded. "Right. I should get going. Thank you for the make-up. You should start doing this professionally. You'd be a total hit.""As if!" Sheila laughed again and grabbed her keys. "I'll drop you.""You don't have to. I booked a ride already." Amaliah patted her friend's shoulder and left.She got to the venue, paid the driver and got down. She took a deep breath and ran her hands over her gown multiple times. It was loose fitting because of her pregnancy, but if anyone looked closely enough, they'd notice that she was pregnant right away. She didn't mind
Courtney Norman stopped her car in front of the small brownstone and unbuckled her seatbelt. She turned back to glance at her son. She smiled when she saw that he was fast asleep in his car seat with a cookie in his hand. She leaned over and brushed the crumbs off his face and his sweater. After looking at the brownstone for a few more minutes, she sighed, got out, and rounded the car to get her son. "Drew." She shook him gently. "Come on, baby, wake up." When he didn't respond, she unbuckled the seat belt and carried him out, wincing a little as his weight settled heavily on her. Courtney opened the small gate and walked up the short steps to the front door. She adjusted Drew's weight on her shoulder and took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. The person who answered the door was a slender redhead with the most amazing blue eyes she had ever seen and a full, contagious smile that made her eyes sparkle. She was fully dressed in a beige silk blouse, white linen pants, and
Hi guys! I want to apologize for the delay in updating my book A Second Chance. Something came up with it and I won't be able to update it for a while. I'm very sorry for this inconvenience but I promise to let you all know when I'll start updating it regularly again. Thanks for your understanding and please no hate comments. Thanks.P.S: This has never happened before and it is rather unfortunate that it had to happen. If you have not read my other stories, please check them out and don't forget to vote and comment. Love you guys!
“Can I come in?” Rafael asked, stepping forward.Amaliah stiffened, her jaw clenching at his audacity, and then she slammed the door in his face, turning the lock as well. On wooden legs, she walked back to the living room and settled down on the sofa, feeling her chest tighten. She rubbed the spot with the heel of her hand as memories flashed through her mind at lightning speed.Memories flooded her mind—the late-night call from the police informing her of her husband's death, the horrifying sight of his charred body after his car exploded with him inside. The funeral, the agonizing weeks that followed, and the dark thoughts of ending her own life. And yet, he was alive? He had faked his death? Amaliah struggled to grasp the reality before her.Her breath hitched. The room tilted. Her vision blurred at the edges. She gasped, willing herself to stay present, but the pressure in her chest only worsened. With trembling fingers, she reached for her phone and dialed the first number in h
The midday sun bathed the rooftop garden in a golden glow, transforming it into a serene retreat above the hum of the tech company below. At a sleek glass table, Amaliah sat across from Caesar, the remnants of their lunch scattered between them. A gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh flowers, lifting strands of her hair, and for the first time in a long while, she felt… at peace.Returning to work had been refreshing, yet a part of her still longed for Tuscany. She wondered, almost absentmindedly, if Caesar would ever take her back. After their return, he had hired a landscaper to fill the once-barren rooftop with flowers—simply because she had mentioned, in passing, that it would make the space more beautiful. But he hadn't stopped there. A gazebo had been built, complete with a glass table and two chairs. When he had shown it to her, she had been speechless, overwhelmed by the thoughtful gesture.Her fingers instinctively found the pendant resting against her skin. She had neve
Amaliah’s unease deepened as the car wound its way through the increasingly narrow and secluded roads. Something felt off. Too isolated. Too far from the resort. They’d been driving for hours, and there was still no sign of the helipad Marco had claimed they were heading toward.“Marco?” she called out, her voice tight, laced with suspicion. “Where exactly is this helipad?”Silence.Her heart kicked up a notch. She glanced at the girls beside her—both lightly dozing—and reached for her phone again.No signal. Still nothing.“Marco, stop the car,” she said, this time with more urgency. “Right now.”He didn’t respond.She leaned forward, gently nudging the girls awake, her instincts screaming.Then she caught it—his eyes in the rearview mirror. Cold. Distant. Unfamiliar.“Stop the damn car!” she snapped, panic lacing her voice.When he still didn’t, she unbuckled her seatbelt, lunged forward, and yanked the gear out of drive.The vehicle jolted violently, skidding to a halt.“Out—get ou
Caesar lay stretched out on the living room couch, cradling a sleepy Amaliah against his chest as soft jazz filled the quiet space. The girls had already gone to bed after giggling their way through a movie, leaving the night to wind down in a rare, peaceful stillness.“You look tense,” Amaliah murmured, sensing the weight in his silence.He hesitated for a moment before responding. “I ran into Anastasia earlier. She seemed… unsettled. But someone like her doesn’t back down easily.”Amaliah sat up slightly, concern flickering in her eyes as her brows drew together. “Do you think she’ll try something?”“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I’m not taking any chances. When we leave tomorrow, I want you and the girls with me—in the same car. No splitting up.”She nodded, resting her hand gently over his. “Okay. I trust you.”His voice was low, steady. “I’ll keep you safe, Amaliah. No matter what.”Later that night, when the house had gone still and the world outside lay quiet
“Are you okay?” Bryan murmured softly beside her.“No,” she said on a soft breath, a faint laugh escaping her lips. “But it felt damn good.”From the stage, Caesar’s eyes never wavered from Amaliah. His smile shifted—no longer playful, but reverent, awestruck. He looked at her like a man who had just been handed the moon.As he stepped down and began walking toward her table, the crowd instinctively made way. He moved with purpose, never hesitating. When he reached her, he leaned in, took her hand gently, and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles.“I didn’t know you had that in you,” he said, voice low, just for her ears.“Neither did I,” she whispered back. “But there was no way I was letting her win.”Their eyes locked. Then, without warning, he pulled her into a kiss—brief but breath-stealing, bold and unapologetic in front of everyone.“I’ll pay you back,” he teased, his smile wicked and warm.“You better,” she replied with a smirk.Across the room, Anastasia stood frozen, her
“Girls, look!” Amaliah pointed out the window as their car wound through the rolling hills of Tuscany. The late afternoon sun bathed the landscape in hues of gold and green, with vineyards stretching endlessly across the countryside.“Wow,” Amaliah breathed, her eyes wide as a picturesque resort came into view, its vines sprawling across the distant hills.Madisyn and Micaela pressed their faces to the windows, captivated.“Mommy, it looks like a castle!” Madisyn gasped. “Is this where we’re staying?”“With princess gardens! It’s like a fairy tale,” Micaela added in awe.Caesar glanced at them through the rearview mirror, a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s right. This is where you’ll be pretending to be royalty for the next few days.”Micaela giggled. “Can we have pizza for dinner?”“Only if you ask in Italian,” Caesar teased, casting a playful glance at Amaliah, who sat beside him, her hand gently resting on her slightly rounded belly.She chuckled softly. “You’re enjoying this, ar
Caesar stood by the office window, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. His jaw tensed with each unanswered ring. This was the fifth call. He’d already tried four times, but Sofia hadn’t picked up once. She’d made it painfully clear she was upset—still, he couldn’t stop trying.“Come on, Sofia,” he muttered under his breath. “Just pick up.”Finally, the call connected.“Sofia,” he breathed, relief softening his voice.There was a long pause before her cold response cut through the line. “What do you want, Caesar?”“I’ve been trying to reach you. Can we talk? Please.”“What’s there to talk about?” Her voice was sharp. “Are you still seeing Amaliah?”The directness of her question knocked the wind out of him. He hesitated, but only for a second. “Yes… I am.”“Then we have nothing to talk about.”“Sofia, wait—please,” he pleaded, voice gentler now. “You’re my sister. I know you don’t approve, but Amaliah isn’t the villain in this story. She’s not who you think—”“You made your choice,”
Amaliah had no clue how Francine had managed to persuade Caesar to bring in a new hire for the digital marketing team. But when she returned to work on Monday—following the mandatory day off Caesar had insisted she take on Friday—she was startled to find a woman occupying Mark’s former desk.The newcomer’s high ponytail bounced with every movement as she swayed to the rhythm of whatever music played through her headphones, completely lost in her own world.Curious but not eager to engage, Amaliah held back, choosing to observe for now. She could only hope this new hire knew how to mind her own business. Just as she reached for her phone to text Caesar—wanting to avoid dealing with Francine as well—a high-pitched voice nearly made her jump."Hello!" The woman greeted her with an infectious enthusiasm. "I'm Minerva. Just joined the company today."Amaliah forced a polite smile. "Nice to meet you, Minerva. I'm—""I know who you are," Minerva interrupted before she could finish. "You're A
A week later Amaliah nestled into a quiet corner of the Chinese restaurant, absently tracing the menu’s edge with her fingers as she browsed the options. She rarely dined alone, but with Caesar tied up in meetings, she was left to fend for herself for lunch.The restaurant was warm and inviting, filled with the rich aromas of stir-fried vegetables, soy sauce, and freshly steamed dumplings. Around her, the soft hum of conversation mingled with the rhythmic clinking of chopsticks and ceramic bowls, forming an atmosphere that should have been comforting.Yet, something felt off.She had just settled on ordering kung pao chicken with a side of vegetable spring rolls when, on impulse, she glanced toward the window.Her breath caught.Across the street, near the curb, stood a man—partially obscured by passing cars, his dark hair slightly tousled, his posture hauntingly familiar. Even from this distance, the resemblance was striking.Rafael Rivers.Her husband.Her dead husband.A sharp jol