Five years ago, policemen beat down the doors of our house and arrested my father for financial fraud. Just as I was about to despair, my friend’s father proposed that I marry his son—Mason. In my grief over daddy’s imprisonment, and unexpected happiness of marrying my childhood love, I was blinded. I vowed to myself that I would be the best wife I could be. But my husband would never love me the way he loved Jade—my best friend who died eight years ago. I pretended everything was fine and kept being a good wife for all these years. However, when I found Jade’s ring in Mason’s pocket and saw her face, alive and beautiful, appear in the live stream, the illusion—my game of house—was shattered.
View MoreMASON’S POVThe moment the door clicked shut behind them, I saw red.I barely realized what I was doing before my hand shot out, knocking over the ceramic vase on her side table. It hit the floor with a loud crash, shattering into a thousand pieces and spilling water and flowers everywhere.I didn’t even know why I was so angry. Maybe because I had never seen her like that.She had always been beautiful. But tonight? Tonight, she was sinful.The black silk dress wrapped around her body like a second skin, accentuating every dip and every curve. Silver jewelry glinted at her neck and wrists, delicate and understated but striking against her cool skin. Her hair—God, her hair—had been perfectly blown out, glossy and thick, cascading over her shoulders.I had spent five years married to Florence. And in those five years, she had never dressed like that for me. Never like she was someone’s prize. Never like she deserved to be worshipped.But I had also never made her feel like a prize. I
FLORENCE’S POV“Mason!”He didn’t move.Panic surged through me. My hands hovered over his body, unsure where to touch, where to check. Oh God. Had he hit his head? Was he breathing properly? Was his pulse normal?For one terrifying second, my mind spiraled—What if he dies? Should I call an ambulance?I pressed two fingers against his pulse. Steady. Strong.I let out a breath.Okay, Florence. Think.He was just passed out. Drunk out of his mind and lying in cold, wet clothes. That meant he needed to get warm.I clenched my jaw and reached for him. This was not an act of care—this was basic human decency.I ran to the living room and pulled my rug from under the coffee table. I carried it to the bathroom and hoisted him up, dragging his dead weight onto the floor rug. He groaned softly but didn’t wake. Stupid giant.He was still fully clothed, and his soaked dress shirt clung to his body. He was going to catch a cold if I didn’t get him into something dry.I hesitated.This was dang
FLORENCE’S POVPlease, what?Hadn’t I given him enough?I shoved against him, trying to create some space between us, but he didn’t budge. His hold was too strong, his body too solid. My heart pounded with frustration, with disbelief. With something I refused to name.“What do you want?!” I screamed. “Why are you here?” I struggled again, twisting in his arms, but it was useless.“I’m drunk,” Mason muttered, then—God help me—he giggled.It wasn’t news. The entire building could probably smell the alcohol seeping off him. But that didn’t excuse… this.This wasn’t him. Not the Mason I knew.Mason Whitehill had too much self-respect and too much control to ever show up at my doorstep in this state. He was always measured, always put together, and always charming. If he needed to talk, he should have shown up like a gentleman, told me what was wrong, and asked for my time.But no.He chose to come here senseless. I struck my elbow against his chest, harder this time. He let out a pained
FLORENCE’S POVI ran a fingertip down the guest list, double-checking every name, but my mind kept slipping back to Jade. To her threats. Her smug, unbothered smile.Now that she knew my father was out, she might actually try something herself. Granted, she didn’t know which hospital he was at, but it wouldn’t take her long to find the information. Jade had a way of getting anything she wanted out of anyone. I needed to be careful.I dropped my pen and picked up my phone to call one of the guards Raiden had appointed to watch my father. He picked up after two rings. “Miss Hart.” “Hi, Antony, just checking in; is everything alright with my dad?” “Yes, Miss Hart. Your father’s been stable, and we’ve had no disturbances.”I exhaled slowly. “Amazing. Thanks, I’ll see you at night, as usual!” “Sure, Miss Hart, no problem.” Hanging up, I let out a sigh of relief. My world outside might be muddy and chaotic, but at least I could still control some matters in the office. I leaned back
FLORENCE’S POVJade’s words echoed in my mind like a slow, deafening drumbeat.“Your father killed my parents.”I wanted to laugh. To scoff. To call her a liar straight to her face.But the way she said it—the certainty, the venom laced in every syllable—made my blood run cold.“My father isn’t a murderer,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “He wouldn’t—”Jade tilted her head, her expression almost pitying. “You didn’t think he was a con artist either, and guess what. He went to prison.” She took a step forward, closing the distance between us. “Your father destroyed families, Florence. Do you think he was just some poor businessman who got caught in a bad deal? No. He was a criminal. He scammed half of this city and left people ruined. People who worked for Whitehill International. People who invested in him. And my parents—”Her voice caught for just a second, but she pushed through. “They lost everything because of him. And because of that, they died.”I searched her face,
FLORENCE’S POVThe familiar scent of roses, warm wood, and leather hit me the moment I stepped into the Amora studio. Everything about this place was pristine, from the perfectly arranged bolts of fabric to the soft hum of designers at work in the back. My mother barely glanced at me as I entered, too absorbed in the final adjustments of the dress.Jade was already standing on the fitting pedestal, bathed in soft lighting, draped in the most exquisite gown I had ever seen.The bodice was a sculpted masterpiece, corseted with shimmery, pearlized fabric. The sleeves, sheer and weightless, were decorated with delicate strands of crystal-beaded embroidery, cascading down her arms like bioluminescent waves. But it was the skirt that stole the show—layers upon layers of structured organza and silk, stitched with reflective filaments that gleamed under the light, creating the illusion of rippling water as she moved. She looked exactly as she always wanted to—untouchable. A queen in a worl
FLORENCE’S POVWork had been smoother ever since the whole fiasco with Hazel and Selene.Maybe it was paranoia, or maybe it was just plain common sense, but Hazel had learned her lesson. She was more careful now, more reserved. She had been given a second chance, and she wasn’t going to waste it.Selene, on the other hand, had been fired.Blake had taken it harder than I expected. I knew she hadn’t encouraged Selene to leak information, but the betrayal still stung her. She had pulled me aside after the meeting and sighed.“If we can’t even trust the people on our own team, what the hell are we doing here?” she had muttered.Raiden agreed.Selene was given a moderately good letter of recommendation and thrown out that same day. ***I arrived at the garden venue in the afternoon to check on the layout and the construction of some of the installations we had designed. I watched the workers adjust lighting placements, run cables, and assemble decorative archways. All the designs in my p
FLORENCE’S POVThe world blurred around me as the nurses worked quickly, adjusting the oxygen levels, checking my father’s vitals, and stabilizing him. I felt frozen, hands clenched into fists at my sides.Who would do this?Raiden stormed into the room, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I lost him.”I turned to him. “What?”“I chased him into the street, but the guy ran into a back alley and disappeared.”A slow, sick feeling crept through me. Someone went to great lengths to plan all of this. “Florence… are you okay?” Raiden asked. “How’s your dad? Is he stable?” I nodded. “We need to check the security footage.”We went to the security office, and the guards showed us the most recent footage. The screen showed a figure entering my father’s room wearing a doctor’s coat, a surgical mask, and a cap.But when he left?No coat. No mask. Just a man in black clothes with a mask covering the lower half of his face. He had changed in the room, discarding his disguise before slipping
FLORENCE’S POVI barely slept.Every time I closed my eyes, my mind drifted back to Raiden, sitting in his car, roses in hand, telling me he would wait for me.Wait for me.I should have felt relieved. Grateful. Even happy.Instead, I felt nothing but guilt.I had to talk to someone because I was going crazy. And naturally, I called up Annalise. “Florence, babe, what is there to think about?” she said, her voice barely restraining her excitement. “Raiden is perfect. He adores you, he respects you, and most importantly, he’s not Mason!”I exhaled. “I know, but—”“No buts!” she yelled. “Flo… you deserve this.”I smiled faintly. “I just need time.”She sighed dramatically. “I guess I can wait patiently until my best friend and my brother-from-another-mother finally get together.” I laughed. “Thank you Annalise. How generous of you!” ***Days flew by, and before I knew it, it was presentation day.I arrived early to set up the conference room. Both Blake and I may have been presenting,
FLORENCE’S POVOn the night of my husband’s birthday, I placed the cake I’d spent five hours making on the dining table, feeling a flicker of hope. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe he’d walk in, see the effort I’d put in, and smile—really smile—like he used to. Maybe, just for one night, we could be something close to happy.The front door beeped. My heart skipped, anticipation bubbling in my chest. I turned, ready to greet him.Just as Mason spotted the cake, his face turned sour. “Didn’t I tell you not to do this?” he sighed, “I have a jet waiting to take me to Chicago right now.” Even tired from his long day, he looked handsome in his tailor-made designer suit, like the wealthy, powerful CEO he was. I took the cake plate in my hands and went up to him, a big smile on my face. But he didn’t look as happy to see me. “Just take one bite of the cake,” I begged. “It’s your favorite, and I made it myself!” He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Florence, I only ...
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