Chapter 4

FLORENCE’S POV

His 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, forcing a neutral expression, but the guilt was already pressing down on my chest. How could I ask him for money after everything I’d done? After the way I left?

I had walked away from him, from our work, from a future I had once built with my own hands—all for Mason. And yet, here I was, coming back not as a brilliant PR executive but as a desperate woman with zero options.

I had abandoned him. He had every right to turn me away, but he didn’t.

And my father’s situation was out of time. No matter how much pride I had left, it wasn’t worth losing his life.

I took a deep breath. I would repay Raiden ten times over. I would prove to him, to myself, to everyone that I wasn’t just a woman who married a billionaire and faded into the background.

“I need money.”

The words tasted like defeat.

Raiden didn’t say anything at first. He simply watched me, assessing me. 

Finally, he sighed, reaching for his phone. “Guess you’ll have to work extra hard for me now,” he chuckled. 

He didn’t ask why. He didn’t demand an explanation. A few taps, and the money was in my account. Just like that.

I stared at him, part grateful, part embarrassed, but mostly exhausted. I hated owing him.

But I hated the alternative more.

***

Once home, I noticed Mason hadn’t been back since he left on his birthday. And for the first time in my marriage, I wasn’t sure if he ever would return. 

Cutting my losses, I pulled up a rental app on my phone and rented a small studio apartment outside the city. A temporary safety net in case Mason actually kicked me out. I’d been blindsided pretty much our entire marriage with his mood swings. If I didn’t take proactive steps now, I would truly be the fool. 

I packed up all the designer stuff I’d been gifted over the years with the intention of selling everything, bit by bit, to make the money to pay back Raiden and continue ensuring my father’s safety. 

It didn’t matter, anyway. I told myself I wouldn’t actually need the apartment. That Mason would eventually come crawling back, realizing how good he had it. 

But that only happens in movies. This is no movie. 

***

The next day, Blake called me into her office.

“I need you to assist with an ad shoot,” she said, barely looking up from her phone. “Urbanite is launching a new luxury campaign. It’s a big deal.”

Urbanite. One of Mason’s brands under Eternity. 

“Absolutely. I’ve got it!” I said, keeping my voice steady.

She nodded. “Good. They’ve secured an influencer who just skyrocketed on social media this week. Some new model… Jade Thorne.”

The room tilted.

I gripped the edge of the chair, my nails digging into the leather. Jade Thorne.

I forced my expression into something more pleasant. “When is the shoot?” I asked. 

“Tomorrow.”

I nodded and stood up. 

It was really Jade Thorne. Alive. After eight years of mourning her. Of carrying guilt that nearly destroyed me. Of being accused of her murder. And now, here she was—about to walk into a campaign for my husband’s company.

I remembered that charity gala on Mason’s birthday, where they looked intimate on the screen. When did he know Jade was alive? Had he really been deceiving me all along?

I checked my phone. Mason hadn’t contacted me after that “Working” text.

I watched Blake as she hopped on yet another work call. I respected her no-nonsense, career-focused attitude. I had it once, and I hoped to develop it again. I wanted to become so detached from Mason and Jade and our past that it no longer affected me. 

Because this job was more than a job… it was practically my lifeline. 

***

The next day, I walked into the studio, trying to keep my heartbeat steady. And there she was. Dressed in couture, standing in the middle of a pristine white set, looking just as breathtaking as ever.

For a split second, I felt relief. The weight I had carried for years lifted slightly. 

“Water!” Jade’s voice cracked in the middle of the quiet set. I watched as some tired young intern rushed to bring her a glass of water. 

“Ew, not this. Sparkling water. NOW.” 

The intern rushed back, fumbling through the beverage cart. I stepped in, found it quickly, and handed her the bottle. She gave me a quick smile before running back to Jade. 

Well. She hadn’t changed a bit. But just before “fond” memories could flood back, an ugly question presented itself. If she was alive all this time, why hadn’t she come back? Why hadn’t she told anyone?

Why did she let me go through the guilt, the questioning… the humiliation?

“Florence? Gonna need you here to check this frame!” the photographer called. 

I approached the camera and looked at the shot. She looked gorgeous, as usual. She was made for the spotlight. 

“Looks good, Marty, you’re the best!” I smiled. 

After that, I forced myself into autopilot, setting up props, adjusting lighting, and making sure everything was in place. I couldn’t waste time pondering the past when I had a responsibility to Raiden and my father. 

When the time came to help Jade with the train of her dress, I put my pain and anger aside and picked it up—just like I had done before. 

Like when we were fifteen, and she was the lead in the school play while I played her handmaiden. Or prom, when I wasn’t even invited, but she called me last minute, crying because her zipper was stuck. I had rushed over, helped her into her dress, fixed her hair, and calmed her nerves. And when Mason knocked at the door to pick her up, she hugged me quickly and ran out, leaving me standing there in my pajamas. 

Some things never change. 

It was high school all over again, with me trailing behind Mason and Jade. The best friend, the side character… the one who never quite belonged.

Maybe that was always my place. 

Five hours and eleven outfit changes later, as the crew was dismantling the setup, I watched Jade in her natural environment: a hairdresser removing her updo, a makeup artist wiping away the layers of liquids and powders to reveal flawless glass skin underneath, and her taking elegant little bites of some pastry she got the intern to run and fetch. 

I had to speak to her. It was now or never. 

I approached the group and cleared my throat. “Jade.”

She looked up, her gaze blank. “Yeah?” 

For a moment, I thought she might hug me. Maybe laugh. Tell me it was all some huge misunderstanding and she was so, so happy to see me. 

“Hey,” I said. 

She tilted her head slightly. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”