Stephanie‘s POV“She’s back. Sign the divorce papers.” His voice is flat, detached, like this is just another line item on his to-do list, not the disintegration of our life together.The air is sucked from the room. My heart pounds so loudly in my ears that for a moment, I can’t process what he’s just said. Then the words sink in, heavy and sharp, hollowing me out until I feel like a shell of myself.Four years ago, we got drunk and slept together for the first time. It was amazing, and I thought I had won him over. Back then, I was just a designer at his company, secretly in love with my boss. Not long after that, I found out I was pregnant and accepted Vince’s proposal. So what if Vince had feelings for someone else? His ex-girlfriend Darci was already engaged, and I was certain I could win his heart eventually. But everything that happened today proved just how wrong I was.My gaze drops to the papers on the table. The bold, official font feels obscene, mocking me with its fin
Stephanie‘s POVThe sunlight filters through my window, weak and indifferent, as if it knows nothing can lift the weight crushing my chest.I smooth down my blouse, take a deep breath, and tell myself it doesn’t matter. Work is the one thing I have left, the one place I can prove my worth. I won’t let this ruin that, too. My name is top of the list for a supervisor promotion. I’ve worked my ass off for this, and I deserve it. And today is the big day.When I step into the office, the air feels strange. People glance at me, then quickly look away, whispering behind their hands.“Stephanie?” I hear someone mutter as I pass. Their tone is laced with disdain, and it makes my heart picks up speed, my stomach twisting.I shake it off. Maybe it’s just paranoia. Maybe I’m imagining it. Then I see it. “Hey!” I shout, my voice sharp enough to make heads turn.Two coworkers are standing at my desk, carelessly tossing my belongings into a cardboard box.My breath catches in my throat as I sto
Stephanie‘s POVThe sterile scent of antiseptic fills the air, sharp and overwhelming, as my eyes flutter open. The harsh fluorescent lights above blur in and out of focus, and for a moment, I can’t place where I am.What happened? How did I get here?“Don’t move,” a familiar voice cuts through the haze. It’s low, steady, and completely unexpected. “You’re hurt. Just lie still.”I turn my head slowly, wincing at the dull ache spreading through me. My gaze lands on him, and my breath catches. Henry.He hasn’t changed. Thick, dark hair that frames a chiselled face. Bright grey-green eyes. He’s smiling, face gentle, but his bulk fills the small plastic chair. He’s even more muscular than I remember.He's a character I used to know, now a stranger—or more precisely, an enemy—due to his betrayal of Vince's company.But now Henry’s sitting by my bedside like it’s the most natural thing in the world.Why the hell is he here? The last we spoke, he’d left Vince’s company. It was bad, too. Bad
Stephanie‘s POVThe taxi ride is a blur, the soft hum of the engine barely cutting through the storm in my head. My fingers slide restlessly across my phone, refreshing my emails, scrolling through apps, anything to distract myself.The thought of facing my parents fills me with bother. They’ve never cared about my life—only about what I could provide. Since marrying Vince, their demands for money have been relentless, their concern for my well-being nonexistent.My jaw tightens as I think about telling them about the divorce. How will they react? Will they rage about the lost financial pipeline, or will they simply dismiss me, as they always have?The taxi pulls up to the house I once called home. I steel myself before stepping out. My mother is seated in the living room, her lips pressed into a thin line. When she looks up at me, there’s no warmth, only the cold judgment I’ve known all my life.My father and brother didn't show up, a situation all too familiar to me. It usually mean
Stephanie‘s POVThe luxurious parlor is beautiful, like something out of an old-timey movie. I sit stiffly on the edge of a velvet armchair, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, facing the two strangers who claim to be my biological parents.Their words reverberate in my mind. I had never suspected, nor had I ever dared to imagine, that I was not biologically related to my parents, the Sullivans.It all suddenly makes sense, why I always felt that my parents were cold towards me since I was a child, why I always felt like an outsider in the family who only had a use for me.They were never my flesh and blood to begin with.A fragile hope stirs within me, tentative and trembling. Could they be the parents I've always longed for—the ones who might finally offer me the love and warmth I've been denied?Their faces soften, and my mother - my real mother - reaches out to take my hand. “Stephanie,” she says softly. “It’s been far too long. I’m sorry we couldn’t find you sooner.”"Why now?" I
Stephanie‘s POVThe room feels emptier now, and I am alone with Henry. His presence dominates the space.He can’t be serious? A guy like him, succumbing to family pressure and proposing a contract marriage? I don’t know why he’s going along with this stupid ordeal.I meet his gaze, keeping my voice steady. “Why me?” I ask, the words sharper than I intended.Henry doesn’t flinch. Instead, he regards me with a measured calm, like he’s been expecting the question.“I need a wife. And since you owe me a favor, I hope you'll marry me.” His tone was casual, as if the matter were of no significance. “After all, you mentioned being willing to help me in any way you could, and this is what I'm asking for.”"What... what?" I rubbed my ears, feeling like I had heard too many absurdities today. "Marrying for a favor?"“This is good for you too.” he replies. “I might not be the wealthiest in my family, but I’m far wealthier than Vince. I can provide for all your needs. I can help you build a bette
Stephanie‘s POVThe car Henry arranged for me arrives precisely on time, a sleek, glossy black vehicle that looks like it’s stepped right out of a luxury magazine.Henry’s arrangements left me with a strange sense of discomfort. With Vince, attending events had always been a far more spontaneous affair—never such meticulous planning, even the dress was hastily chosen by myself. It made me wonder, as I stared at his every move, if he still hadn’t given up on the idea of an engagement.The gala venue comes into view, a grand building lit up like something out of a dream. Inside, the ballroom is breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the polished marble floors, and the scent of roses mingles with the faint aroma of champagne.Waiters in crisp white uniforms glide through the crowd, offering trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres and flutes of sparkling wine.A group of young women sipped champagne, engaging in lively conversation, their laughter ringing clear and light. But
Stephanie‘s POVAs Henry guided me across the dance floor, I couldn’t help but notice the hushed murmurs and the eyes that followed our every step. It came as no surprise that arriving with an exceptionally handsome companion turned heads, yet I hadn’t anticipated just how skilled a dancer he would be. His movements were fluid, effortless, as if the music itself bent to his will. I love dancing. I always have. But I can’t recall the last time I stepped onto a dance floor. Vince never liked me in such settings; he always said it was unbecoming, too frivolous. As we moved in sync, I became acutely aware of Henry’s hand on the small of my back. His grip tightened subtly, pulling me closer with each spin. Our bodies were no longer just near each other—they were pressed together, his chest grazing mine with every shift. His warmth enveloped me, the scent of him—subtle, clean, undeniably masculine—making it hard to focus.It felt… intimate. Too intimate. My pulse quickened, not entirely f
Stephanie’s POVThe ceremony is perfect. Almost too perfect.The grand hall is bathed in soft, golden light, casting a warm glow over the sea of elegantly dressed guests. Delicate floral arrangements line the aisle, their fragrant scent filling the air. Everything is pristine, polished—just as it should be for a wedding of this scale.Yet, as I stand at the altar, my hands clutching the bouquet so tightly my knuckles turn white, I can’t seem to shake the weight pressing against my chest.This was supposed to be a contract marriage. A business arrangement. A performance.Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like an act.I glance up at Henry, my soon-to-be husband. He stands tall, his tailored suit fitting him perfectly, his expression composed yet unreadable. Only his eyes—intense, unwavering—give anything away.He looks at me as if I’m the only person in the world.I swallow hard, my heart hammering.The officiant begins, his voice steady and formal as he speaks of love, of com
Stephanie’s POVI sit at the dining table, staring at the open planner in front of me, tapping my pen against the pages. Across from me, Henry flips through a thick binder filled with wedding venue options, his expression unreadable.“If I have to look at one more gold-accented ballroom, I might lose my mind,” I mutter, rubbing my temple.Henry chuckles, setting the binder down. “Agreed. Maybe something simpler would suit us better.”I glance up at him, surprised. “You’d actually go for that?”His lips curve into a small smirk. “I’m not as predictable as you think, Stephanie.”I roll my eyes, but my heart does a strange little flip at the way he says my name. Lately, the line between our arrangement and something more has been blurring, and it’s becoming harder to ignore.“So,” I say, shifting focus, “what do we still need to finalize?”Henry leans back in his chair, thoughtful. “Venue, catering, final guest list. And we need to schedule the wedding photoshoot soon.”I groan. “The pho
Stephanie’s POVThe café hums with the quiet buzz of conversation, the scent of freshly brewed espresso hanging in the air as I stir my coffee absentmindedly. Across from me, Anna watches me with a knowing expression, her hands wrapped around her cup as she leans forward slightly.“You’re overthinking again,” she says, her tone light but pointed.I blink, snapping out of my thoughts. “I am not.”Anna raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring into your coffee like it holds the meaning of life for the past five minutes. Spill it.”I sigh, setting my spoon down and meeting her gaze. “Do you think… marrying Henry is a bad idea?”Her eyes widen slightly before she recovers, tilting her head in thought. “I mean, it depends. Are you asking if he’s a serial killer? Probably not. Are you asking if he’s a good guy? That’s something only you can answer.”I groan. “Anna.”She smirks before turning more serious. “Alright, let’s break this down. Do you even like him?”I hesitate, my fingers tapping
Stephanie’s POVThe soft glow of candlelight flickers over the elegantly set table, casting warm golden hues across the room. A delicate aroma of freshly prepared dishes fills the air, and I can't help but smile as I take in the effort Henry has put into this evening. The table is arranged with precision—white linen napkins, delicate china, a bouquet of roses at the center. Everything about this is intentional, carefully crafted, and undeniably romantic."You really went all out," I murmur, trailing my fingers along the stem of my wine glass before glancing up at him.Henry leans back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I thought you deserved something nice after everything you've been dealing with."A warmth spreads through my chest at his words, but I push it down. This is Henry—he’s composed, strategic, and always one step ahead. I can’t let myself read into things that aren’t there.Still, I can’t deny that the effort means something to me. Vince never care
Stephanie’s POVI arrive home, exhaustion settling into my bones after everything that happened with my adoptive mother. My mind is a tangled mess of emotions—anger, betrayal, confusion. I still can’t believe it. She stole me. My whole life, my identity, everything I believed about myself, had been built on a lie. Yet, she begged me for forgiveness, for help.I step inside, sighing heavily, only to be met with an unexpected sight—Henry, standing casually in the living room, watching me with those sharp, knowing eyes. He doesn’t say anything at first, just observes, but I can tell he’s already read my mood before I’ve even opened my mouth.“You’re upset,” he states simply.I sigh, rubbing my temples. “Is it that obvious?”Henry doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he steps forward, his hands slipping into his pockets, his gaze steady. “What happened?” His voice is gentler than usual, lacking its usual teasing edge.For a moment, I debate telling him. This is my business, my mess. The c
Stephanie’s POVThe words hang in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. "I... I stole you, Stephanie."I stare at the woman in front of me, my so-called mother—no, my kidnapper—and for the first time in my life, I don’t recognize her. The lines on her face, the familiar curve of her shoulders, even the pleading look in her eyes—it all seems foreign now, like I’m looking at a stranger wearing my mother’s skin.My chest tightens as nausea grips my stomach. My fingers dig into the fabric of my dress, my knuckles going white. “You what?” My voice trembles, but the shock doesn’t dull the sharp edge of anger bleeding into my words.She flinches as if I’ve struck her, tears pooling in her tired eyes. “Please, Stephanie. Let me explain.”“Explain?” A bitter laugh escapes me, unbidden. I shake my head, stepping back as if putting physical distance between us will make this make sense. “How do you explain something like this? How do you justify stealing a child?”Tears spill down her ch
Stephanie’s POVThe ride back to the villa is silent. Henry’s hand remains on my back, a comforting weight, but my mind is a whirlwind. Darci’s theatrics, Vince’s blind acceptance, the sheer audacity of their deception – it all boils inside me. I stare out the window, the city lights blurring into streaks of color, mirroring the chaos in my thoughts.I didn't succeed in suing Darci, ultimately.Because Vince reminded me that the most crucial evidence has been destroyed, and that if I sue Darci at this point, there is a high probability that I won't get the result I want. Apparently he was trying to protect her.I know in my gut that he's right, I'm just not reconciled.“Are you alright?” Henry’s voice breaks through my reverie.I turn to him, forcing a small smile. “I will be. I’m just… disappointed.”He nods, understanding. “They underestimated you, Stephanie. And that’s their mistake.”A heavy sigh escapes my lips. “It’s not just about the project, Henry. It’s about the principle. T
Stephanie’s POVThe tension in the boardroom is suffocating. I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears as Vince and Darci stand across from me, their expressions unreadable. I grip the edge of the table, forcing myself to stay calm even as frustration burns beneath my skin.Darci’s smug smile lingers, and I know she thinks she’s already won. She believes she’s backed me into a corner, that I’ll be forced to relinquish the project and accept their fabricated allegations.Then the boardroom doors burst open.The room collectively turns toward the interruption, and my breath catches in my throat as Henry strides in, his presence commanding and unyielding. He moves with purpose, his sharp eyes scanning the room before landing on me.He’s holding a thick folder in his hand, and I recognize that look in his gaze—the one that says he’s here to end this charade.“I believe we have some unfinished business,” Henry says smoothly, stepping forward and dropping the folder onto the conference table.
Stephanie’s POVThe room is heavy with tension, the weight of accusation thick in the air. I finish speaking, and for a moment, Vince and Darci are speechless. But Darci quickly recovers, her voice laced with disbelief. "Stephanie, darling," she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "while we appreciate your efforts on this project, let's be honest. You're a talented designer, no doubt, but you're hardly a name that commands the attention of the Rush family. Surely you don't think you're on their level?"Vince smirks, adding, "Indeed. You're well-known in certain circles, but compared to the Rush empire, you're practically invisible. I'm quite curious, actually. How do you manage to convince them to even consider this collaboration? Do you perhaps... offer them a little something extra to persuade them?"Darci stands in the center, her perfectly manicured fingers curled around a stack of papers—evidence, she claims, of my betrayal. Her lips curl into a smirk as she slowly, deliberate