~CharlotteI sat in the garden, my fingers wrapped around the stem of my wine glass, the chilled liquid inside doing little to calm the storm in my chest. The roses Adam had planted bloomed in perfect harmony, their fragrance floating on the evening breeze, mocking the chaos of my life. Everything was crumbling, unraveling faster than I could contain. The love I had dreamed of, the future I had dared to imagine with Adam, was slipping through my fingers. His promises, his warmth—how had it come to this? Eleanor’s reappearance had shattered the delicate thread tethering us together. She wasn’t just back; she had returned with a purpose. And worse, she was winning. I swirled the wine in my glass, watching the crimson liquid catch the last rays of sunlight. The bitterness of it mirrored the bitterness in my soul. Her supposed dying wish to marry Adam was an insidious masterstroke. She knew exactly how to manipulate him, how to tug at the strings of his honor and responsibility. And A
~AdamI leaned forward, pushing the door open for Eleanor. She wobbled on her feet, the color drained from her face, and I reached out to steady her, my hands trembling despite my efforts to keep them steady. Her eyes, wide and glistening with a mix of exhaustion and pain, met mine. “Come on, dear,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice calm. The last thing she needed was me falling apart. My fingers brushed against her arm as I guided her out, her weight leaning heavily into me. The baby, safely cradled in Nan, her nanny's arms, shifted slightly, fussing at the movement. “I’m here,” I said, more to myself than to her, as I carefully eased her into the car. The leather seats creaked under her weight, the air inside the vehicle suddenly feeling suffocating. Eleanor looked up at me, a weak smile breaking across her pale lips. “Thank you, my love,” she whispered, her voice fragile, like the last echo of a song. A sharp pain flared in my chest at her words. I wasn’t expecting it, wa
~CharlotteI sat in my sleek red Lamborghini, gripping the steering wheel tightly. The engine hummed beneath me, ready to roar to life, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. My head rested against the leather seat, and my heart pounded in frustration. Just as I reached for the gear, I heard it—the sound of chaos erupting at the gates. My hands froze, and I glanced up toward the noise. Cameras flashed, voices shouted, and figures moved restlessly behind the iron bars. “Not again,” I muttered under my breath, rubbing my temples. Peering closer, I could make out the swarm of reporters. Ever since the news broke about Adam’s upcoming wedding to Eleanor, the press had been relentless. The world thought my marriage to Adam was real, that we were some power couple madly in love. They had no idea it was all fake—a contract designed to take revenge on both our exes, Dylan, and Eleanor . But now? Now Adam was marrying the same Eleanor. His ex. Who claims her child is Adam's. The headline
~CharlotteThe warm, easy conversation between Jasmine and me came to an abrupt halt as the faint sound of a voice caught my attention. I turned my head, tension winding up my spine. Someone was outside on the balcony, their voice low, urgent. The words were sharp, carrying a weight I couldn't ignore. “Yes, Eleanor. I have the results ready for tomorrow,” the man said, his voice clipped and serious. My breath caught as the name sank in. Eleanor. My hands clenched at my sides, and I took a deep, steadying breath. I knew this couldn’t be good.The man’s voice continued, but I was already leaning toward the hallway, straining to hear. “Once those fake DNA results are out in the press, Adam won’t have a choice. He’ll have to stay with you. That’s the only way to ensure everything stays in place.” A sudden heat rose in my chest, and I felt the world shift beneath me. My heart pounded, the blood rushing in my ears. And now he was caught in a trap so twisted it made my stomach turn.A shar
~CharlotteThe moment I got into my car, I slammed the door shut and gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. My heart pounded in my chest like a war drum, and my head was spinning with Edward’s words. Eleanor. That conniving, lying snake! Using fake illness and DNA results to trap Adam? She had crossed the line this time.“You think you’re smart, Eleanor,” I muttered under my breath, my voice shaking with rage. “But you’ve awoken the beast in me now.”I jammed the key into the ignition, and the engine roared to life. Slamming the gear into drive, I sped out of the driveway, my tires screeching against the pavement. The road stretched out ahead of me, bathed in the fading light of the setting sun. The trees blurred past as I pressed my foot down harder on the gas, the needle on the speedometer climbing higher and higher.The air whipped against the car windows, but it did little to cool the fire blazing inside me. I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling as I
~AdamThe siren’s wail blared through the narrow streets, drowning out the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat. Eleanor lay motionless on the stretcher, her frail body jolting slightly with each bump on the road. The paramedics worked feverishly around her, shouting numbers and medical jargon I barely understood. “Eleanor, stay with me!” I said, leaning close to her. My hand enveloped hers, squeezing tightly. Her fingers felt cold, lifeless. The sheer panic in me was overwhelming. “Don’t you dare give up. You hear me? You’re going to be fine.” Her eyelids fluttered weakly, and she turned her head, her face ghostly pale. Her lips parted, and her voice came out in a fragile whisper. “Adam…it’s too late…” “No, it’s not!” I interrupted sharply, my voice rising above the siren. “You’re going to make it, Eleanor. You have to—for your son.” Her lips trembled as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Our son, Adam,” she corrected, her eyes glistening with emotion. I swallowed hard, guilt piercin
~CharlotteI paced back and forth across the plush carpet in my room, the events of the day replaying in my mind like a broken record. My heart raced as flashes of Eleanor lying on the stretcher flickered before my eyes. Her pale face, the blood she coughed up—was I wrong? Could she actually be sick? The doubt gnawed at me. I had thought her illness was a ploy, a twisted way to manipulate Adam, but now… now I wasn’t so sure.Stopping at the window, I pressed my forehead against the cold glass, the city lights below twinkling like distant stars. “Please let her survive,” I whispered to no one in particular. I didn’t want this on my conscience. If she died… No. Adam would never forgive me. I wouldn’t forgive myself.I turned and grabbed my phone from the nightstand, my fingers trembling as I dialed Adam’s number. It rang. Once. Twice. Then it cut off. I tried again. The same thing happened. He was busying my calls. Panic crept in, making my chest feel tight. Was she… gone? The thought w
~AdamI walked back inside the house, each step heavier than the last. The weight of what had just happened pressed down on me with every movement. The look on Charlotte’s face when I told her she had to leave was burned into my memory, impossible to forget. Her tear-filled eyes, her voice trembling as she tried to make sense of what I was saying—God, it hurt. I clenched my fists, a futile attempt to push the growing guilt away. I had to convince myself I’d done the right thing. She had crossed a line. Eleanor’s life was hanging by a thread, and Charlotte’s jealousy had almost pushed her over the edge. I had to protect what mattered, no matter how much it tore me apart inside. This wasn’t about what I wanted—it was about what had to be done.But damn it, I regretted every word I said to her.I shook my head, as though I could shake the guilt free. There was no room for second-guessing. I had made my choice. I had no choice. I walked into the living room, trying to steady myself, where
~DylanThe drive home was uneventful, but my thoughts were anything but calm. The night had gone surprisingly well until Noah showed up like a bad rash. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, the weight of the evening pressing down on me. The headlights of the car illuminated the long driveway as I pulled up to the mansion. The place was quiet, the kind of silence that came with late hours and everyone being asleep—or so I thought. As I stepped out of the car, stretching to shake off the stiffness of sitting too long, my eyes caught a faint glow in the distance. The guest house. I frowned. The light was still on. That bastard. I exhaled sharply through my nose, my anger bubbling just beneath the surface. Did he think I was joking when I told him to leave? I squared my shoulders and headed toward the guest house, the cool night air doing little to soothe my irritation. “Noah,” I muttered under my breath, my strides long and purposeful. “Of all the people Adam keeps around, it
~AdamThe sun was barely up, but my day was already in full swing. My phone was practically glued to my hand, its screen lighting up every other second with messages, calls, and reminders. A week to go until the wedding, and everything had to be perfect. No exceptions.“Morning, Mr. Groom-to-be,” teased Tom, my best man and oldest friend, when I answered his call.“Tom, don’t start. It’s too early for your nonsense,” I muttered, scrolling through my schedule.“Too early? Dude, it’s practically noon,” he quipped. “But seriously, do you need anything? Last-minute freak-outs? Dress code issues? Cold feet?”I groaned. “No, Tom. Everything’s under control.”“We’ll see about that,” he said, laughter in his voice. “Anyway, don’t forget tonight. The bachelor’s eve is sacred. No excuses.”“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there,” I replied, already tuning him out as I started another round of calls.The rest of the morning flew by in a blur of logistics. First, I confirmed the catering. Then the florist. T
~Charlotte The hum of the car engine was almost soothing as I steered through the morning traffic. The city was just waking up, and the streets were already bustling with life—coffee carts on corners, joggers navigating sidewalks, and cars weaving in and out of lanes like an intricate dance. I should have been thinking about the tasks waiting for me at the office, but my mind was miles away, trapped in a storm of unease. Then it hit me like a slap. Noah and Dylan. Their stares. They hadn’t said anything outright, but the way they watched Adam and me recently—especially now that we were on cloud nine—felt like a storm brewing. Their eyes held something sinister, like they knew something that could shatter the fragile peace I had built with Adam. My hands tightened on the wheel. The thought planted a seed of panic in my chest, and I couldn’t shake it. What if they were going to reveal my secret? The one thing I’d buried deep, swearing never to let it see the light of
CharlotteThe engine hummed softly beneath me as I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white against the leather. The sun was low in the sky, casting golden streaks across the horizon, but I couldn’t appreciate its beauty. My mind was far too cluttered with thoughts of Dylan and his incessant calls. “What does he even expect me to do?” I muttered, my voice sharp in the enclosed space of the car. “Choose him over Adam?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. The idea was absurd. Adam, with his unwavering kindness, his protective nature, and the way he made me feel like I was the center of his world, was everything Dylan never was. “He chose Eleanor over me,” I spat, the memory burning like acid in my chest. “He didn’t know then, but now he wants to come back and ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me?” The words hung in the air, filling the car with tension as if I could argue with my own thoughts. I pressed harder on the gas pedal, the car speeding down the empty road.
~DylanI paced back and forth in my apartment, the phone pressed tightly against my ear. Each ring felt like a hammer pounding against my chest, the sound mocking me as it echoed through the silence. “Pick up, Charlotte,” I muttered under my breath. My thumb hovered over the call button again, ready to redial her number for what must have been the tenth time this morning. Ever since I heard the news of Charlotte and Adam’s engagement, I hadn’t known a moment of peace. The thought of losing her—truly losing her—was suffocating. When I first found out their marriage was just a business arrangement, it was like a lifeline. I told myself I still had a chance, that I could fix things between us, that she would see reason. But now? Now they were planning to get married for real. That was it. That would be the end of us. I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. The image of Charlotte wearing Adam’s ring, standing by his side, looking at him with the same s
~CharlotteAdam’s arm was draped across my waist, his chest rising and falling rhythmically as he slept beside me. The soft morning light streamed through the curtains, bathing the room in a golden glow. I turned my head to look at him, his face serene, lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply. For the past week, our lives had been blissfully quiet. Ever since he proposed, it felt like nothing in the world could touch us. The entire family had been stunned when we revealed the truth about our previous wedding being a mere facade, orchestrated for business purposes. Naturally, there were plenty of whispers and judgments when we shared it with the public. Some called us frauds, while others admired our honesty and the love that had blossomed despite the circumstances. But none of it mattered. Not when Adam looked at me the way he did. Not when he held me like I was the most precious thing in his life. I reached out, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead, smiling as I pressed
~Charlotte The warm Mediterranean breeze brushed against my face as I stood on the balcony of our suite, gazing out at the stunning Amalfi Coast. The sapphire-blue waters sparkled under the golden sunlight, and the faint hum of laughter and clinking glasses drifted up from the piazza below. It had been a week since Adam and I reconciled, and true to his word, he’d been doing everything to show me how much he cared. This trip to Positano was his way of making up for lost time, and though I was hesitant at first, I couldn’t deny how magical it felt to be here with him. “Charlotte,” Adam called from inside, his voice warm and light. “Are you going to stare at the view all day, or will you come have breakfast with me?” I turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes crinkled with that boyish smile of his. He looked relaxed, wearing a white linen shirt and beige shorts, the coastal sun highlighting the golden tones in his hair. “I was just enjoying the view,” I said,
~CharlotteJasmine and I sat on her worn yet cozy couch, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint lavender scent of her candles. The TV played Adam’s press conference on loop, his voice echoing in the room. “And finally,” Adam said, his tone heavy with emotion, “to Charlotte. I owe you the biggest apology of all. I was blind to the truth, and in doing so, I hurt the one person who has always been my light.” My heart fluttered, and my chest tightened as I watched him look directly at the camera, his gaze filled with sincerity. “I’m sorry for all the pain I caused. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can be the man you thought I was. I love you, Charlotte.” I felt a lump form in my throat, tears threatening to spill as his words replayed in my mind. Jasmine nudged me, her grin wide. “Well, well, well, looks like someone is a lovebird again.” “Stop it, Jasmine,” I said, wiping the corner of my eye quickl
~AdamBy the time I arrived at the press conference venue, the weight on my shoulders felt unbearable. The room was already filling with reporters, their chatter loud and insistent, like vultures circling a fresh carcass. My security detail cleared a path through the sea of flashing cameras and eager eyes, and I forced myself to maintain a steady gait despite the turmoil churning inside me. The event staff had set up a podium at the front of the room. Its presence seemed both unassuming and daunting, as though it were waiting to swallow me whole. I climbed the small steps leading to the stage, adjusted my tie, and stepped behind the podium. My hands rested on the edges, gripping them tightly to stop the slight tremor in my fingers. The room was stifling, the air heavy with tension. My throat felt dry, and I reached for the glass of water placed on the stand beside me. I took a quick sip, the coolness a momentary relief. Then, I adjusted the microphone, scanning the room filled wit