Jace’s P.O.V.After waiting for what felt like an eternity, at night, I finally receive a message from her when I lie down to sleep.Unknown: Hey, Jace!Me: Are you the piano girl?I inquire to confirm.Unknown: Yes, the piano girl.She replies with a laughing emoji.Me: So it’s yes from your side to have something more than what happened last night?After not receiving any response from her, I text her.Me: Stop blushing and answer me.Unknown: How do you come to know that I’m blushing?I grin, replying to her.Me: I just know.Unknown: I’m impressed.Me: Anyway, you didn’t answer me.Unknown: If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t have messaged you.She sends a blushing emoji, causing me to smile.Me: I was certain you would message.Unknown: How?Me: Because you didn’t stop me last night, and the way you reacted to the kiss and my commands. Everything was telling me you wanted me as much as I wanted you.Unknown: Why do you want me, Jace? I’m not that attractive! You’re so tall and handso
The kiss is forceful, a collision of our anger and frustration. I can taste the alcohol on her lips.God! My hatred for her is profound, but I can’t deny that there is a magnetic pull in between us.For a moment, it feels like she might resist, but then I feel her surrender, her body relaxing against mine, her hands clutching my shirt. Our lips move in perfect sync, burning our bodies with desire.I just hate myself for feeling something for this woman, although it is just sexual.She suddenly pushes me away with a gasp, her eyes filled with confusion and anger.“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She hisses, wiping her lips.“Grace, my father’s man is watching us, so just behave if you don’t want him to come to know about your true face.” As I whisper in her ear, her eyes widen in shock.I keep a watchful eye on my father’s man, who pretends not to be watching but is clearly keeping tabs on us. Our kiss seems to satisfy him, and he leaves, giving us some much-needed privacy.G
Grace’s P.O.V.The next morning, I wake up with a severe headache.“Fuck! Why do I always end up consuming so much alcohol?” I groan, my head pounding from the hangover. As I sit up, I realize I'm wearing Steve’s shirt.How could he take advantage of my drunken state?“Mr. Steve Grey, where are you?” I yell, climbing down the bed, frustration and anger bubbling within me.He emerges from the bathroom, and I glare at him.“Why are you shouting early in the morning? What’s the matter?” He asks in a casual tone, strolling towards me.“What’s the matter? Seriously, Steve, did you forget what happened last night?” I accuse him.“What? I don’t know,” he shrugs, fueling my anger.“You broke the vital rule of our contract by sleeping with me last night.” I snap at him. “You took advantage of my intoxicated state. What happened to your ethics, Steve?”He chuckles, causing my brows to narrow in confusion. “Mrs Temporary Grace, nothing happened between us last night.”“Then why am I in your shir
Steve’s P.O.V.As Grace storms off to the bathroom, I’m left alone with my thoughts and the memories of the previous night.I feel frustrated as I think about how hard it was to clean her up and help her change, all the while trying to resist the undeniable attraction I feel toward her.I can’t deny that Grace is an incredibly alluring woman. Her words and actions, even in a drunken state, made it difficult for me to maintain my composure. Yet, I controlled myself.***She is about to leave the room, but stops as I call her, “Grace.” She turns to face me, and I continue, “Please, don’t get drunk today. I can't go through that again.”Annoyed by my remarks, she retorts, “Don’t sleep with men. Don’t do this, don’t do that. Just stop fucking telling me what I should or shouldn’t do, Mr. Steve.”I respond in a firm tone, pointing my finger at her. “This situation is an outcome of your choices, Grace. Remember that the contract marriage was your idea, so you should be prepared to accept th
The next day, we are on a luxurious yacht in the waters of Paris. I stand, leaning against the railing and enjoying my drink, and Grace sits away from me, making her vlog. I only tolerate this woman because of my father.I notice a young woman, clad in a stylish summer dress, who can’t take her eyes off me. She approaches me and leans against the railing beside me. With a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, she begins a conversation.“Such a beautiful day, isn’t it? Do you come here often?” She enquires flirtatiously.“Not as often.” Although I’m not interested in her, I answer her because I can’t behave rudely with her.Grace, sitting a short distance away, is now quietly observing us, with the corner of her mouth curved into a sly grin. Now, what’s going on in her mind?She rises from her seat, and her eyes remain locked on the girl as she approaches us.“Anyway, I’m Maya.” The girl holds out her hand to me.Before I can answer, we hear Grace’s voice. “Excuse me, may I have a word wit
Steve’s P.O.V. It’s late at night, and an unsettling restlessness has overtaken me. I can’t shake off the feeling that something is wrong with Grace. As I can’t ignore my growing concern, I decide to check on her. I pick up my phone and access the tracking app I had discreetly installed on her phone when I gave her a new phone. I know I hate her, but her safety is my responsibility. I reach the club, following her location. As I pull into the club’s parking area, the sight that greets me is a nightmare. I see Grace; her torn dress, and the menacing figures of two men who have pinned her to the ground. I can’t believe what I’m witnessing. Anger consumes me. Without hesitation, I leap out of my car, my steps fueled by rage. With swift and powerful strides, I approach the men who have caused her harm. I seize and yank the bloody bastards away from Grace. Anger courses through me as I meet the terror-stricken gaze in her tear-filled eyes. I have never seen her so vulnerable before,
The next few days blur into a repetitive routine: I leave for the office early in the morning, often before Grace is fully awake. I return late in the evening, and our interaction has reduced to the bare minimum.We communicate through eye contact with little conversation exchanged.One morning, as I step out of the bathroom after my shower, I find a servant apologising to Grace, “I’m sorry-““Sorry, my foot.” She hurls the cup of coffee at him, yelling at him. “I asked you to bring hot coffee, not cold, you idiot.”I march to her and grasp her hand in fury. “How dare you? You’re in my house, and here you can’t treat servants like this.”Her voice reveals frustration as she gives a curt response. “Just leave me, Steve.”Unwilling to let the matter go, I insist, my voice firm, “Just apologise to him right now, Grace.”“No, I won’t.” However, she remains resolute, refusing to back down, further raising my anger.Exasperated, I give her a final warning, my voice stern. “I’m asking you fo
Grace’s P.O.V.I storm out of the room, fuming with anger, and head to the kitchen to eat something because I have been starving since morning.How could he lock me in the bathroom because of a mere servant? What did he think of himself? I’ll certainly make him regret doing this with me.As I stand up from the dining table after finishing my meal, Steve’s father, who has always been kind and warm, approaches me.He looks at me with concern and asks, “How are you feeling, Grace? Steve told me you’re not well.”So Steve lied to him. Now it’s my time to teach him a lesson for messing up with me.I decide to put on a drama to gain sympathy. Sobbing, I say, “I’ve had a terrible day, Dad. Steve locked me in the bathroom for the entire day just because I accidentally dropped a cup of coffee on the servant.”His expression transforms into one of disbelief, and he speaks with anger. “What the hell? I can’t believe it. Trust me, Grace. He was never like this before.”I continue my act, tears st
Grace’s P.O.V. A Few Days Later “You know, if you don’t want to, we can go back home,” Steve whispers, entangling my pinky with his, sitting in the driver’s seat beside me. Twins settle in the car backseats, engrossed in each other. We’re visiting Jace and Zara’s house for dinner. Zara had been urging us to meet her for more than a year because she wanted to apologise, but I wasn’t ready for it. Although she has been mentally stable and adopted a baby girl a year ago, I was still scared that she might try to take Giana away from me again. However, now I’m ready to give her a second chance because I can’t keep Steve away from his best friend forever. I smile softly at Steve’s concern, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “No, I want to do this. It’s time for us to move forward, Steve. Zara deserves a chance to make amends, and Jace is your best friend. We can’t avoid them forever.” “Thank you, Love. I’m glad that you’re ready to do this for me.” He lifts my hand and places a sof
Steve’s P.O.V. Two Years Later “Look here, my little angels.” Grace’s voice catches Evan, Giana, and my attention, and we look at her. I brush Giana’s long brown hair as she sits on my lap, absorbed in playing with her doll. Evan stands behind me, wrapping his arms around my neck, while Grace diligently works on her daily blog with the same enthusiasm as every day. “Mama…” Evan walks over to Grace and jumps into her arms. She giggles, kissing his cheek before turning the camera towards them. “Say hi to my followers, Evan.” “Hi, Mama’s followers.” Evan waves at the camera, beaming. “Keep showering love on her because she is pretty and the best mama.” “Aww… my baby. You are Mama’s best son.” Grace chuckles at Evan’s sweet words, her eyes shimmering with love as she holds him close. “Mama, I’m also your best son.” Giana pouts at them, causing us to laugh. “Princess, Evan is our best son, and you are our best daughter,” I explain, tucking her hair with the unicorn hairpin. She l
After our passionate encounter, we relax in the bathtub, both of us panting. I sit nestled between his legs, my head resting on his chest, my back against his front, his hands encircling my chest while his fingers tease my nipples. “How are you feeling now?” I ask him, breaking the peaceful silence. “Out of the world.” He whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “And credit goes to you, my love.” He licks my earlobe. “You know very well how to distract your husband.” Making circles around my nipples with his fingers, he bites my earlobe, eliciting a soft moan from my mouth. I’m so sore, yet I’m again aroused. Fuck! “Now if you’re feeling out of the world, husband, spill it out,” I ask him in a serious tone, pushing away my sexual arousal to the side for a moment. “Huh?” “What was bothering you?” Upon hearing my words, his body stiffens behind me and his fingers stop moving. “Tell me.” I urge, clasping his hands. “I got to know about the kidnapper of our daughter
Grace’s P.O.V. Twins are sleeping in their nursery, and I stand in front of the mirror, wiping off my makeup after a photoshoot. Closing my eyes as I spray the toner, I feel warm arms wrapping around me. I don’t need to open my eyes to know who is it because I have already recognised the touch. It’s my man. My husband. Steve. He buries his face in my neck, tightening his grip around my waist. My brows furrow in worry because he seems tense. I can feel it. I immediately open my eyes and meet his gaze through the mirror. “Are you alright, baby?” He looks back at me in the mirror, moving away from me. “I’m fine. Just work stress. Need a warm bath.” He hurries to the bathroom and shuts the door. I’ve never seen him so stressed about work before. I’m certain there’s something else bothering him. And I know very well how to get him to open up and relax. A mischievous glint appears in my eyes as I ponder my plan. I pull off my dress in a jiffy before entering the bathroom. S
Jace’s P.O.V. I can no longer conceal the truth from Steve, the truth that has shattered my life. Perhaps he understands and doesn’t take any action. "I didn’t do this," I finally speak up. “What? Then what the bracelet—” “Zara did this.” As I reveal, his grip on my collar loosens and his expression shifts to one of confusion. “So you were protecting her?” He asks, walking towards my room. “Where is she?” "Steve, I can explain," I plead, grabbing his arm to stop him. He pushes me away, seething in anger. “You can’t protect her anymore, Jace,” he yells. “She committed a crime.” “Steve, please listen to me.” He is about to take a step towards my room, but stops, listening to my words. “Zara isn’t fine.” “What do you mean?” Steve turns towards me, his brows narrowed in confusion. It's time for me to lay bare the truth, to reveal the pain and struggles that Zara has been facing. Only then can Steve truly understand the situation. “Zara was pregnant with a baby girl al
“She’s alright, Steve,” Grace murmurs, resting her head on my shoulder. “The doctor has confirmed it.” “I know, but I still can’t stop myself from worrying about her. She was away from us for a month, Grace,” I respond, constantly checking Giana’s forehead, hand, and every inch of her body to make sure that she isn’t hurt. Grace and I sit on the bed, Giana nestled in my lap, while Evan sleeps nearby. It’s been hours since we reunited with our daughter. It feels surreal, almost too good to be true. How did Giana end up here, alone and unharmed? And why did the kidnapper choose to return her now, after all this time? Grace brushes a stray lock of hair away from Giana’s forehead. “I understand, Steve. It’s been a harrowing ordeal for all of us, but the important thing is that she’s back now, safe and sound.” “I just can’t help but think something isn’t right,” I respond, my gaze fixed on Giana’s peaceful face as she sleeps soundly in my lap. “Why would the kidnapper leave her at o
Two weeks later, Evan is peacefully sleeping, lying on my chest, while I’m lost in my little daughter’s precious memories. I miss the way she used to kick her tiny legs while I converse with her and the way her innocent blue eyes look at me. Will I ever be able to experience this again? Grace is seated on the sofa and engrossed in seeing our family photo album, tears trickling down her cheeks. It hurts to see her so upset. One month has passed since Giana went missing, and each day feels like an eternity without her. Despite our best efforts and tireless searching, there’s been no sign of our daughter. We’ve followed every lead, contacted every authority, and appealed to the public for help, but Giana is still nowhere to be found. It’s like she’s vanished into thin air, swallowed by the darkness. Evan continues to search for his sister, calling out her name with hope and sadness that tears our souls. We do our best to reassure him, promising that Giana will come back soon, bu
Steve’s P.O.V. Grace and I are returning home after our unsuccessful mission. She’s fallen asleep, her head resting on my chest, silent tears slipping from her closed eyes. I hold her closer, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the car window. Today, she fought like a warrior to get back our daughter, but fate had other plans for us. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that the monster was playing mind games with us. He hadn’t actually kidnapped our daughter; he was merely toying with our emotions to get to Grace. A part of me wanted Grace to kill him on the spot, but it wasn’t enough. I want that bastard to suffer every day until his last breath for the pain he inflicted on my wife over the years. His actions have left scars on her soul that may never fully heal. And today, he committed one more sin by lying to us and making us feel vulnerable. When he demanded Grace to strip before him, I nearly lost control, ready to storm in and beat the life out of him. But
As I park my car outside the under-construction building, my heart thumps with fright, and my breath becomes heavy. I’m about to confront my childhood nightmare once again, and I pray I don’t falter. Breath in. Breath out. You’re strong, and you know that, Grace. You’re no longer the weak girl. Now you have the strength to face monsters like him. After encouraging myself, I step out of the car, taking a deep breath. The cold air sends shivers down my spine as I approach the building. With every step, my heart pounds in my chest. But I can’t let fear consume me. I’m not the scared child I once was. I have grown stronger, braver, and more resilient. Today, I’m not just fighting for myself; I’m fighting for my daughter, my family, for everything that matters to me. As I step inside, finally, I come face to face with the man who stole my daughter from me and has haunted my nightmares for years. He sits on the sofa, puffing on his cigarette. As his gaze falls on me, his lips cur