FLORENCE’S POV
On 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 came to collect my coat. If you really want to help me, please fetch it for me.”
It was like a slap to the face. In the five years we’ve been married, I’ve only ever seen his beautiful face show expressions of sadness or anger. I haven’t seen a smile since… since the thing happened that we don’t talk about anymore.
Right now, I had no choice but to keep the cake aside and fetch the coat so he could go on his way.
As he took the coat from my hand, something fell out: a small silver sterling ring.
I picked it up, and there it was in the engraving… a name I hadn’t seen or heard in eight years.
Jade.
My world spun around me, and I felt like I was falling.
“Mason…?”
“What now?” he asked, putting on his coat.
I held up the ring, catching the light. His expression turned cold. A refreshing change from sadness and anger, but not a change I welcomed.
He took two steps forward and snatched the ring from my hand.
“That is clearly not yours.”
“What is that?” I asked.
“Nothing! Don’t touch it again.”
“Why does it have her name on it!?” I screamed.
His phone rang.
“I don’t have time for this.” Turning on his heel, he practically ran out of the door, leaving me with tears streaming down my face.
The ‘Happy Birthday’ banner mocked me from above the door. Bit by bit, I tore down all the festive decorations, cursing myself for being so naive. I had set up the house for a surprise party that weekend, but I should have known Mason would make his own plans.
Just as he has every single year.
As I ripped down all the banners, balloons, and flowers, I tossed them to the floor, not caring where or how they fell.
Why did I keep trying? I had known since our childhood this would always be the way.
Those memories came flooding back, uncomfortable, raw, and ugly.
Back then, it was just me, Mason, and Jade. We were the unbreakable trio, absolutely inseparable.
Well, Jade and Mason were inseparable, and I was the third wheel. The tagalong.
I had always loved Mason in secret, always listening to him about his dreams, frustrations, and even his crushes. He told me about his perfect older brother, Clarke, who was set to take over the family business, Whitehill International. He told me about his overly strict parents who loved Clarke more.
And he told me way too much about his crush on Jade Thorne.
Perfect Jade. Beautiful Jade. My best friend, Jade.
I couldn’t do anything but bury my feelings and try to be happy for them. After all, it made sense. They made a lovely couple. Both rich, both sophisticated, both part of glamorous high society.
I didn’t fit into their world, so I had to be happy they let me be part of it.
I lied to myself that it was enough.
But eight years ago, on a camping trip, everything changed.
I remembered the cold night air, the scent of damp earth, the distant sound of crickets filling the silence. We had wandered too close to the ledge, and our flashlight batteries were close to dead.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Jade had laughed. “What if we’re found by, like, a bear? Or a murderer?”
I smirked. “You’re the one who wanted an adventure.”
She rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, well, I meant, like, roasting marshmallows. Not wandering around in the dark like serial killer bait.”
“Relax. Mason is close by, what’s the worst that could happen?”
The moment the words left my mouth, a sudden crack split through the air—a gunshot? A fallen branch? I never found out.
Jade gasped, stumbling backward, her boot skidding against loose gravel. Instinctively, I reached for her, but my own footing gave way beneath me. The world tilted, the stars above spinning wildly as we plunged into nothingness.
The scream never fully left my throat before we hit the rocks below.
Pain. Blinding, searing pain shot through my body, pinning me to the ground. The sharp scent of blood mixed with damp moss, and somewhere above, the wind howled through the trees.
“Jade?” My voice barely rose above a whisper.
No answer.
I forced my eyes open, searching, blinking through the haze. I couldn’t see anything, and before I could force myself up, I fell unconscious.
I don’t remember much after that—only the faint glow of flashlights, the distant voices calling our names, and the hospital.
Then Mason.
He was already there when I woke up, standing stiffly by the window. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the room, the beeping of monitors the only sound between us.
He didn’t need to say it… I already knew he wished Jade had survived.
And sometimes, even I thought the same. Then maybe Jade and Mason would have gotten their “happily ever after”. Sadly, it wasn’t so.
The police couldn’t find Jade. They concluded she must have been swept away by the river. Her death left a silence between Mason and me, a silence filled with unspoken grief and guilt.
Ever since the accident, Jade was a name Mason could never say again. And he never did.
Years had passed, and I thought Mason had left the past behind. Now that I was his wife, I believed my years of unwavering love would one day make him truly see me.
But here we are, eight years later, with Jade’s personal things falling out of his coat.
Why is he still holding on to that after all this time? Is this the reason he still won’t look at me or talk to me like a husband?
Was he ever going to love me the way he loved Jade?
The only man who could answer me was Mason, and he was on a flight to Chicago.
A bad feeling coiled around me, suffocating me. I could pretend I never saw the ring and just keep being the good wife I’ve been for all these years.
But this time was different.
I had a sinking feeling that my peaceful life was about to come to an end.
FLORENCE’S POVThe last thing I needed was more problems. All I wanted was to take a long bath and hopefully sleep off this dilemma. But fate, as usual, had other plans. My phone suddenly rang, and the caller ID was blocked. “Hello?” I answered. A voice I was all too familiar with came over the line, heavy and threatening: “Where’s the money for this month? Or do you no longer care about your father’s comfort in prison?”“Marco… please, just give me a few more days, please don’t hurt him! I’ll send you the money as soon as I can!” “You have 48 hours, Missy. After that… who knows?” The click on the other end told me he had hung up. It was never a long conversation with Marco—usually, he would make demands, and I would just listen. I checked my account balance and realized I was short… very short. My thumb hovered over Mason’s contact on my phone. I didn’t like calling to beg for money… especially after the way he stormed out of the house. But what choice did I have?I clenched
FLORENCE’S POVFor eight years, I had laid flowers on Jade’s gravestone on the anniversary of her death. But clear as day, I saw her on my screen, flirting with my husband and snuggling up to him while he laughed. I watched him as he looked at her with a smile he hadn’t given me throughout our marriage, and my heart sank. The illusion—my game of house—was shattered. My world spun around me as I tried to make sense of the situation. Was this woman really Jade? If that really was Jade, my “best friend” had some explaining to do. Where had she been all this time? How did she survive? And Mason. If Jade was truly alive, he would definitely toss me aside, just like he always did when we were kids, just like today.A fresh batch of tears stung my eyes when an uglier thought crept in: what about my father? If Mason left me, I wouldn’t be able to ensure my father’s safety in prison.I glanced around at my belongings, realizing how difficult it would be to scrape together the money for Mar
FLORENCE’S POVHis face didn’t change as he said those words, but my heart fluttered. Had he really been waiting for me all these years? Why?I felt like he could see the cracks I tried so hard to conceal for so many years. Just as I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I grabbed it, my stomach twisting when I saw the caller ID—unknown number. I already knew who it was.“Florence Hart,” came the sharp, no-nonsense voice on the other end. Marco’s man. “The transfer was due yesterday. Mr. Hart’s situation here is… unstable. You wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen, would you?”A lump lodged itself in my throat. Mason still hadn’t answered my message, which only further confirmed he was ready to end our marriage. “You have until midnight,” the voice continued. “No excuses.” The line went dead. As I pocketed my phone, I could see Raiden’s face turn to concern. “What’s going on?”“Nothing.”He didn’t believe me. “Florence.”I swallowed hard, for
FLORENCE’S POV“What…”I stared at Jade, my mind struggling to process what had just happened.She didn’t know me?She didn’t know me?The words rattled in my head, loud and hollow, echoing off the walls of my skull.Jade simply got up and left the studio with her entourage, leaving me standing there like I was nothing.I should have followed her. Demanded an explanation. Asked why, after eight years, she was acting like I was a complete stranger.But I didn’t.Instead, I stood frozen, my feet glued to the messy, wire-and-tape-ridden floor. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.***Later that evening, Blake suggested a team dinner at La Ritz downtown. A flashy, expensive place that I definitely couldn’t manage without Mason’s allowance. I still had a bit left on the debit card, and if I stuck to the cheap wine and appetizers, I’d be okay. I hadn’t been to a fancy restaurant in years—a weird confession for the wife of a billionaire to make. It felt nice. But I had a feeling the evening w
FLORENCE’S POVI felt my breath catch.Chris knew all along. Nobody in the fashion industry knew Mason had a wife… but Chris did. And he knew it was me. Sad as it sounds, I was happy someone in this world actually remembered my existence.But given Florence’s silence… it looked like she didn’t know. Had she been flirting with Mason thinking he was single this whole time? An uncomfortable silence followed. I could feel Jade was stunned by the news because I was, too. How could Mason not have told her? Did he really care that little for my existence? Then I heard Jade’s voice. Soft, hesitant. “I didn’t know that.” A pause. “Why are they acting so distant with each other?”I heard Chris sigh—frustrated, angry, maybe even tired. “Just don’t tell anyone. For whatever reason, Mason doesn’t want people to know. So… it’s not my business, and it’s not yours either.” ***Back at the table, nothing had changed, with Blake still being a professional and Jade being… well, Jade. Charming, witt
FLORENCE’S POVI stared at Mason, my pulse pounding in my ears.“I don’t remember anything from that time,” I said. But his jaw clenched, his eyes burned into mine. He didn’t believe me. “So Jade loses her memory… and now you lose yours? Isn’t that convenient.” His words cut through me like glass. “Do you really take me for a fool?” “Whitehill, that’s enough,” Raiden said calmly. “She has no reason to lie. Leave her alone.” Mason didn’t even spare him a glance. He continued looking at me as he said, “And who is this little knight in shining armor? Your new benefactor?” “Mason…” I started. “Tell me why you felt the need to get a job when I take care of your every need,” he said. “Why my wife is accepting money from random men.”I froze. “Whitehill, enough. She needs to lie down.” “What the hell do you care?” “Someone has to.” Mason didn’t like the subtle accusation. The two men glared at each other, breathing heavily. Mason finally dropped my arm, and I knew what was coming…
MASON’S POVThe city lights blurred past my car window, but my mind was elsewhere.Florence.That look on her face at the hospital… that loneliness. It shouldn’t have affected me, but it did. It reminded me of the first time I looked at her not as my childhood friend, not as Jade’s best friend—but as my wife.And yet, it also reminded me why I married her in the first place.“Faster, please, Alex,” I murmured to my driver. The car sped up, taking us closer to Jade… who shouldn’t be alive. Her appearance changed so much for me. For my marriage. I thought back to the accident… how I had spent years obsessing over it, questioning every tiny detail, hunting for every clue. I needed answers, but Florence always claimed to know nothing. “I don’t remember,” she had said again and again, her voice cracking under the weight of my interrogation. She would cry and scream anytime the police or her father asked her questions. Pretty convenient, I used to think. How can a person forget just one
MASON’S POVI stiffened. Jade hadn’t even been back in public for a week, and she was being targeted already? Why? I decided to shift the topic. “Was anything taken?” “Yes…” “What?” She swallowed, looking genuinely shaken. “A design draft for the dress I was supposed to wear to the upcoming fashion show next month. You know… for Urbanite’s big event.”For a moment, I exhaled. It was just a draft, not even a finished piece. “Jade, that’s not exactly—”“But someone came in here looking for it!” she interrupted, her voice urgent. “It means someone wanted to sabotage the show.”“That doesn’t make sense. If this was about you, they would’ve taken something way more valuable—jewelry, personal belongings, money. But they didn’t. Which means…”“This isn’t about me,” she finished.I nodded. “This was meant to send me a message.”Jade bit her lip, hesitating. “Mason… there’s something else.”I raised a brow.“A few days ago, I got a call from Lockwood International. They asked me to reconsi
FLORENCE’S POVAs soon as the final model stepped off the runway and the lights began to rise, I rose from my seat like a fire had been lit beneath me.“I’ll be right back,” I told Raiden.He blinked in surprise but didn’t stop me. “Want me to come?”“No,” I said quickly, already stepping past him.From the corner of my eye, I saw him turning his attention to one of the designers seated nearby, sliding effortlessly into conversation. Typical Raiden—he could read me without even trying. He knew I needed space. And I appreciated him for that.But right now, all I could think about was Emily.She was here.Not just here but on the runway, front and center. Strutting down like she hadn’t vanished off the face of the earth after Daniel had kidnapped me. After Mason had nearly died. After everything.I pushed my way backstage.The buzz was overwhelming—stylists shouting, models laughing, and garment bags flying from one end to another. The air was thick with perfume, hairspray, and leftov
FLORENCE’S POVMason Whitehill.Surrounded by top-tier designers, international media, and half the room’s attention like he always belonged there. Sharp suit, perfectly groomed and even smiling a little as someone laughed at something he said.I felt a rush of frustration—quick, sharp, irrational.Of course, he would be here. Fashion Week was filled with big names and bigger egos. It made sense.But why now?Why this show?Was he following me?I bit the inside of my cheek and mentally reminded myself to ask Raiden to stop posting photos and videos of us together until we were back home. Not because I had anything to hide—but because I didn’t want my past showing up where it didn’t belong.Mason turned slightly, caught my eye for half a second, and then… started walking toward us.My spine straightened on instinct.Raiden, beside me, noticed immediately. “What just happened?” he whispered, leaning closer. His tone was gentle, calm.“Mason’s here.”Raiden followed my gaze and then nod
MASON’S POVThe next day, as I sifted through an overwhelming pile of design notes and fabric swatches cluttering my desk, Candace gently knocked on the door before entering.I glanced up, immediately noting the crisp white envelope in her hands. “Is it here?”Candace smiled broadly, brandishing it triumphantly. “Two invitations for Paris Fashion Week, sir. Freshly delivered.”I exhaled in relief, allowing myself a small smile. “Excellent.” I leaned back, stretching briefly. “You’ll accompany me, of course, and ensure all our designers receive their invites as well.”She nodded eagerly, her usual brisk efficiency already kicking into gear. “Absolutely, Mr. Whitehill. Everything will be arranged.”As she hurried out to begin preparations, I reached for the invitation, my fingers brushing the delicate, embossed paper. It was a small piece of hope in what had otherwise been a bleak few months.***Later that evening, while the new housekeeper quietly packed my suitcases in my bedroom, I
MASON’S POVBetween endless meetings with designers, suppliers, and coordinating closely with Blackwood PR, my days had once again become a blur of deadlines, emails, and phone calls. Eating and showering were nothing more than obligations, moments I forced myself in to simply to stay alive.Some nights, I slept in my office under the table. It reminded me so vividly of those early days when I first built Eternity. The sleepless nights, endless coffees, skipping meals—nothing else had mattered but the company. Nothing except building a legacy so strong, so impenetrable, that no one could take it away from me.No one but myself.Because in those same days, in my obsession, I’d sacrificed Florence. My negligence and lack of appreciation had pushed her away. I shook my head, determinedly forcing her image from my mind. If I wanted Florence back—and I did—I needed to rebuild Eternity first. She deserved more than a crumbling mess. She deserved stability, happiness, and a partner who v
MASON’S POVStuck in my father’s sprawling mansion, the days blurred together in a haze of misery and self-pity. But finally, I’d had enough.First, I called in a barber. He was discreet and efficient, trimming away weeks of unruly hair and stubble, leaving me looking polished again. Seeing myself clean-shaven in the mirror sparked something deep inside me—a familiar determination, buried under layers of neglect.Next came weeks of intensive physiotherapy sessions. Each day was grueling, filled with sweat, frustration, and pain. But I refused to give up. My body strengthened little by little, first allowing me to walk steadily, then eventually run without exhaustion. With each milestone, my confidence returned.Finally, I was ready to reclaim Eternity from my father’s grip.But I had no idea just how difficult that would be.***My first day back at the Eternity office felt strange. It was quieter than I remembered. Employees eyed me cautiously, whispering behind my back as I made my
FLORENCE’S POVThe gallery hummed with a strange, nervous excitement. Paris’ elite, with their delicate glasses of champagne and glittering evening gowns, murmured amongst themselves, speculating about the stolen photographs and who could possibly want pictures of some random woman from the exhibition.Some random woman—me.Raiden stood by me protectively, his expression growing increasingly irritated as the police officers ambled lazily around the gallery. Clearly, a theft like this was low priority.“Are you sure this isn’t some misunderstanding?” one officer asked Augusta, scribbling notes absent-mindedly.Raiden scowled openly, stepping forward. “Look, officer, someone deliberately stole two photographs of Florence. Doesn’t that worry you? Somebody wanted those photos.”The officer shrugged lightly. “They’re just pictures, monsieur. Hardly the Mona Lisa. Perhaps an overenthusiastic admirer?”Raiden’s jaw tightened. He turned back to me, sensing my discomfort, and took my hand ge
FLORENCE’S POVSunlight streamed softly through the curtains, gently nudging me awake. For a moment, I forgot where I was until the plush sheets and elegant decor of the hotel reminded me.Raiden’s room.I sat up quickly, my heart fluttering. The room was empty, and I felt a wave of relief mixed oddly with disappointment.Just then, I heard a gentle clinking sound from the small kitchenette area near the entryway. Raiden was standing at the counter, calmly pouring freshly brewed coffee into two porcelain cups. My heart stopped. He was still in his pajamas—just a simple white t-shirt and soft, gray lounge pants, his black hair tousled slightly from sleep. It was a casual look, but somehow effortlessly attractive. I felt my cheeks flush.He glanced up, noticing me awake, and smiled warmly. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Coffee?”“Yes, please,” I managed, trying to keep my voice even.He brought the coffee over, setting it on the bedside table. As he sat beside me, he grinned. “Reception c
FLORENCE’S POVAfter Daniel had tossed my phone out of his speeding car, I’d spent weeks living like someone from the early 2000s. I had purchased a flip phone, the simplest thing available—nothing but calls and texts. At first, it had felt refreshing. Only Raiden and Annalise knew the number, and it was nice to disconnect from the chaos of social media.But now, reality was calling. Raiden helped me reclaim my old number, and as I sat down at the café to switch on my brand-new phone, messages flooded in. Notifications bombarded my screen, one after the other.Most were from Mason.My heart caught in my throat as I scrolled through the messages he’d sent when I was kidnapped:Flo, where are you?? Are you safe? Please answer me.Florence, please reply. Jade told me what happened. I swear I’ll find you.God, Flo, please just let me know you’re alive.I’m so sorry for everything. If I lose you, I’ll never forgive myself.Reading those words, raw and desperate, sent an uncomfortable ach
MASON’S POVA week had passed since my family declared their intention to fold Eternity into Whitehill International. When the day came to vote, I knew it was just a formality because the decision had already been made behind closed doors. I entered the boardroom, a space I had meticulously designed down to the very grain of the oak table and the plushness of the leather chairs. In fact, every detail in the entire office was my vision. From the boardrooms and conference rooms to the breakroom and bathrooms, I had picked the tiles, the wallpapers, the furniture, all by myself. Not because I had to but because it made me proud to call something my own. And in that very office… I was doing to see it all disappear. Like a giant, arrogant whale swallowing a merry fish. As I took my seat, heavily medicated to manage the pain, I watched the board members file in. Their faces were a mix of sympathy and stern resolve. Again… I told myself it has all been decided. But somewhere in me,