Micheal stood rigid, his jaw clenched as he stared down his mother. "Mrs. Langston, I have said my piece. I do not care about the past. Lily and Jack are my children, and I do not require your help in securing a future for them. I can do that with or without the Langston group. Don't tempt me, Mother. I've reached my limit of tolerating you." His voice, low and unwavering, echoed through the room like a final verdict.He turned on his heel and strode out, his steps measured, controlled—a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside him. For a fleeting moment, Mrs. Langston caught a glimpse of the man her son had become: a father, a protector, someone no longer willing to bend to the will of the Langston legacy.Mrs. Langston's face hardened as the door closed behind Micheal. Her hands, clasped tightly in front of her, trembled with barely contained rage. This was not the obedient son she had raised, the one who was supposed to safeguard the family's legacy. No, this was a man who dared
Micheal walked towards Yvonne sitting on the couch, clearly waiting for him. As he took his seat beside her, he asked, "Why are you still awake? And how did the kids behave while I was away?"Yvonne let out a sigh, her expression a mix of exhaustion and amusement. "Oh, Micheal, the kids… they were something tonight. I don't know where their energy came from." She shook her head, unable to hold back a small laugh. "I should probably tell you about the… incident." Yvonne said with a dramatic expression. Micheal raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Incident?""Yes," Yvonne began, trying to find the right words. "So, there was this room in the apartment—one that looked like it was set up for a honeymoon or something. The master bedroom apparently. Rose petals everywhere, dim lighting, candles, and... other things." She glanced at him, her face a mix of embarrassment and amusement. "It was beautiful but also… well, very private, very adult."Micheal’s eyes widened slightly. "Okay… and?" He said
“And you’ve changed your mind?” Yvonne asked, struggling to hold his gaze. She wanted to study his expression, to read the emotions that words sometimes failed to convey.Micheal remained silent for a moment, his eyes searching hers before letting out a deep sigh. He looked ready to speak, but his hesitation felt like a heavy silence to Yvonne.She took it as a sign. She had spent over four years pretending not to notice when she wasn't cared for, and she wasn’t about to build another relationship on similar terms with Micheal. The curiosity about his gift still lingered, but she was prepared to let it go if he was uncertain.Yvonne felt a sting of embarrassment that he had overheard her conversation with Amy, though she didn’t know Micheal had only caught part of it before leaving her room. “It’s okay, Micheal. I understand,” she said quietly and stood up, ready to retreat to one of the many rooms in the luxurious place someone who claimed to be just a driver had effortlessly arrange
Micheal wasn’t sure how he managed to find an empty room amid the noise in his head. His mind was a chaotic whirlwind of disbelief and regret."You just had to lose your mind and confess to her. And then what? You made it seem unimportant!"He had been a man of control all his life. Even when his parents tried to make decisions for him, he was always one step ahead, secretly planning his own path. But ever since Yvonne came into his life, he had lost that firm grip on his emotions. Her presence seemed to unravel him in ways he never anticipated.Yvonne had been hurt before; he knew that much. He had to be careful around her, but he found himself constantly questioning what constituted ‘careful’ and when it crossed the line into 'too much.' He was unsure of the balance between showing her he cared and giving her the space she might need.Earlier at the beach, he had exercised every ounce of self-control. Her body had mesmerized him, but half his mind was focused on his children, who we
Michael Langston was back in the city, his mind preoccupied with the monumental task ahead. The weeks of packing and preparing to take over his family's sprawling corporation had passed in a blur. Now, there was another equally pressing matter on his mind. His children needed a mother, and he needed a contracted wife who would love them unconditionally. His solution? A pragmatic one: enlist his personal assistant, Sandra, to find a suitable candidate. Michael had given Sandra explicit instructions. The ideal wife should be kind-hearted, compassionate, and, above all, genuinely affectionate towards his children without being swayed by his wealth and status. Another important part of the deal was the fact the woman will be his wife in name only. No marital affairs will be necessary between them, but all motherly affairs will be needed for his children. When he found that most of the candidates were interested in his wealth more than his children, Michael decided to hide his real iden
Michael Langston walked into his office to start with the day's activities, but his mind was still preoccupied with the earlier encounter with Yvonne. He found Sandra, his efficient personal assistant, engrossed in her work at her desk. When Sandra noticed her boss, she was taken aback that Micheal had arrived at the office instead of being with the woman she had arranged to meet with him. Without having to say a word, Sandra knew her boss needed some answers and quickly got up and followed him to his office. Once they were in, Micheal removed his suit jacket and took a seat at his desk, before his deep blue eyes glanced up at Sandra. "Where is the woman you arranged for me to meet?" he asked, his voice tinged with impatience and slight annoyance. Sandra looked up, a puzzled expression crossing her face. "Didn't you meet her?" "No, I didn't," Michael replied. "I even mistook someone else for her." Sandra frowned, quickly flipping through her phone to once again confirm th
Later that evening, Yvonne waited outside the small apartment building she shared with David. Her intentions were simple; she needed explanations for the way he treated her that morning.Soon enough, he arrived in a surprisingly luxurious car. Someone had driven him over, but Yvonne couldn't see through the tinted window. The sleek vehicle, a sharp contrast to their modest lifestyle, hinted at secrets David had been keeping from her.She watched as David's sweet smile towards the person in the car turned into a scowl as he caught sight of her. The transformation was jarring, a painful reminder of the emotional distance that had grown between them.David sighed in exasperation. “Women should greet their men in sexy clothing,” he muttered under his breath, clearly irritated. Yvonne, however, preferred simplicity. She wore a simple knee-length floral-pattern pyjama set, comfortable and familiar.David mentally scoffed, comparing Yvonne to his soon-to-be wife, who went to any length to lo
Yvonne Lawrence stared out the classroom window, her eyes following the gentle sway of the playground swings. The kindergarten was quiet now, the laughter and chatter of children replaced by the soft hum of the air conditioning. The children she had been watching over had all been picked up, except for two. Lily and Jack sat at a small table, coloring patiently.Despite her resolve the previous night, here she was again reminiscing. Yvonne sighed, her thoughts drifting back to the past. Life had not been kind to her. She had worked tirelessly to support her fiancé, David, juggling three part-time jobs alongside her modest salary as a kindergarten teacher. She had always believed in their future, but since David had started working at the big company, things had changed.There was a time when David loved everything she cooked, savoring every meal she prepared. But those days seemed like a distant memory now. He had become distant and critical, his once affectionate demeanor replaced by