Stephanie‘s POV
The 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 ask, my voice cracking slightly. "Why did you wait so long to find me? Why didn’t you…" The words falter, the question unfinished, but the ache behind it remains. Why didn’t you care before?
My father looks at me, his expression gentle.. "We didn’t wait on purpose," he says quietly.. "Circumstances were complicated. We’ve spent years searching for you."
He looked exactly like the loving father I had always dreamed of—gentle eyes, a kind smile, and an aura of warmth that made me want to trust him completely.
Maybe this time, I could finally have the family I’d always longed for.
"Stephanie," my father says, and there’s a firmness in his tone I don’t expect. “Why don’t you sit, so we can talk properly? There are matters we need to discuss.”
His words pull me up shorte. I didn't understand what he was saying at first. "Matters?" I repeat, my throat dry. "What kind of matters could possibly require my attention after all these years?"
"Family matters," my mother interjects smoothly, as if that answers anything. "It’s time for you to step into your role."
I blink at her, the weight of her words settling like a stone in my stomach. "What role?" My voice is sharper now, edged with suspicion.
“There is an ancestral agreement,” he begins, his tone measured, like he’s explaining a business transaction. “Our family has long been bound by a partnership with the Rush family. Your sister…” He pauses, exchanging a glance with my mother. “She has refused to fulfill her part of the agreement.”
The words are sinking in before I even realize it. My heart starts to race. “What does that have to do with me?” I ask cautiously, though a sinking feeling tells me I already know.
My mother’s gaze sharpens. The soft look vanished from her face. “It’s time for you to step into your rightful place,” she says simply. "Your sister’s refusal leaves us with no choice but to marry you off in her place. This is an opportunity for you, especially now that you’ve divorced Mr. Sinclair."
Oh. It settles in then, the truth. I never did mention Vince’s full name… so the did know.
They knew where I was all along.
I stare at them, disgust curling in my gut.
“An opportunity?” My laugh is bitter, almost hysterical. “You think this is an opportunity? You’ve only just met me, and now you want me to marry someone I don’t even know?”
“It’s your duty, Stephanie.”
"Do you even hear yourselves?" I demand, my voice breaking. "You’re sitting there, talking about responsibility and honor, but where was your responsibility to me? Where was your honor when I was growing up in a house where I never felt wanted, never felt loved?"
“You don’t even know me. You didn’t bother to find me until you needed something from me. Now you expect me to sacrifice my life for your plans?”
I thought I had finally found the loving parents I had always longed for, only to realize they had reclaimed me solely to take my sister’s place in marriage. Is this the family love I’ve yearned for?
“Enough,” my father snaps, rising from his seat. His eyes bore into mine, cold and unyielding. “This isn’t up for debate. The arrangement has been made, and your fiancé is waiting to meet you.”
The finality of his words sends a jolt through me. “You’ve already arranged it? You didn’t even think to ask if I wanted this?”
“We did what was necessary,” my mother replies smoothly. “And once you meet him, you’ll understand that this is the best decision for everyone.”
My hands tremble with barely contained fury. “You can’t make me do this,” I say, though my voice lacks the conviction I wish it held. “You have no right. You’ve never once, even pretended to act like real parents.”
“We are your parents,” my father says coldly. “This is what is expected of you. You’ll meet him, and you’ll see that this is an opportunity you should be grateful for.” He gave the servants a few brief instructions.
The door opens, and two strong men step in.
My heart pounds as they gesture for me to follow.
I dig my heels in, panic rising in my chest. “You can’t just—”
“Stephanie,” my mother interrupts sharply. “Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”
The two men don’t speak as they guide me toward another room. When the door swings open, the world tilts. Standing in the center of the room is a man I never expected to see again. It leaves me breathless, confusion making my vision swim
Henry.
His presence is magnetic, commanding the room in a way that sends my heart into overdrive. He’s dressed impeccably, his tailored suit accentuating his tall, broad frame. His dark eyes lock onto mine, sharp and unreadable, and for a moment, it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room.
My chest tightens, my breath catching. What is he doing here?
My father steps forward, his tone unnervingly casual. “Henry,” he says, gesturing toward me. “Come and meet your fiancée.”
Stephanie‘s POVThe room feels emptier now that my father and his entourage have retreated, leaving me alone with Henry. His presence dominates the space."It's good to see you again so soon. I hope you're feeling better.""So, you already knew about the engagement the day you were in the hospital?’“My grandfather is in poor health and hopes to see me married in his lifetime,” Henry says, his deep voice reverberating through the room. “So I must honour the union as soon as possible.”He didn’t answer directly—such a cunning man. He can’t be serious? A guy like him, succumbing to family pressure..? 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.
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 atmosphere in the grand hall grows tense, the air thick with the weight of Henry’s declaration.“Stephanie is my fiancée now,” Henry repeats, his voice calm yet firm, cutting through the murmurs of the gathered guests like a blade. “From now on, I will regard any attack on her as an attack on me.”The room erupts. Whispers ripple like a wave, guests craning their necks to steal glances at me and Henry, their expressions a mix of curiosity and shock. My stomach churns as every gaze feels like a spotlight burning into my skin.This wasn’t part of the plan.I glance up at Henry, my pulse pounding in my ears. “What are you doing?” I hiss under my breath, keeping my voice low enough not to draw more attention. My anger simmers, barely held in check. “I didn’t agree to this!”His grey-green eyes meet mine, calm yet unyielding. “It was necessary,” he says simply, as if that explanation could erase the mess he’s just made.Darci clutches Vince’s arm, her knuckles white ag
Stephanie‘s POVThe cold night air bites at my skin as I stand outside the venue, staring at Henry with a mixture of anger and disbelief. The crowd has dispersed, and we are finally alone—well, as alone as one can be when tension hangs as thick as fog."What do you mean?" I demand, my voice sharp, each word like a blade. "I clearly rejected your marriage proposal, Henry."He doesn’t flinch. His face remains calm, though his jaw tightens ever so slightly. "Let’s not have this conversation here," he says, his voice steady but firm. "Get in the car, and I’ll take you home. We can talk about it on the way."I cross my arms over my chest, my feet planted firmly on the ground. "I’m not going anywhere with you."Henry exhales, his hands slipping into his pockets, his demeanor deceptively relaxed. "Fine," he concedes. "I know the announcement was sudden, but some things need to be said in advance. I apologize if it caught you off guard.""Apologize?" I almost shout, my voice cracking under th
Stephanie‘s POVThe day is overcast, the sky a heavy blanket of grey as I step out of yet another sleek office building, clutching my portfolio like it’s my last lifeline. The wind bites at my cheeks, matching the sting of yet another rejection. My chest feels tight, my breaths shallow. How many interviews has it been now? Five, ten? I’ve lost count, but the crushing weight of failure has become a constant companion.I walk briskly down the sidewalk, my heels clicking against the pavement. The noise feels too loud, an echo of my rising frustration. This shouldn’t be happening, I think, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. I’m qualified, talented, even recognized in the industry. Yet, door after door slams shut in my face.By the time I make it to Anna’s house, my best friend and temporary haven, my legs feel like lead. I push open the door, and the scent of lavender and vanilla wafts toward me. It’s warm, inviting, everything my day hasn’t been.“Rough day?” Anna asks, her voic
Stephanie‘s POVThe thought of turning to Henry lingers for days. It’s not ideal - far from it - and I have other options. Unfortunately, it’s still the best option. "If this engagement happens, it will be on my terms, not because you or anyone else decided it’s what’s best for me."The truth is glaringly obvious—Henry is the only person who can help me sever the chains Vince still has on me. My career, my autonomy, my revenge… all of it depends on making the right move, even if that move feels like a compromise.Besides, we both want revenge on Vince, don’t we? It just makes sense.Standing outside Henry’s office, I smooth the front of my blazer, trying to steel myself. Taking a deep breath, I push open the door and step inside.Henry glances up from his desk, his sharp features softening ever so slightly when he sees me. “Stephanie,” he says, his voice calm and measured. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”I walk in with purpose, taking the seat across from him. My heart is poundin
Stephanie‘s POVThe move to Henry’s house feels surreal, like none of it is really real.His home is an elegant masterpiece, understated yet undeniably luxurious, with polished wood floors that gleam under soft, golden lighting. The walls are adorned with tasteful art pieces, and every detail screams sophistication.I’m greeted by his staff with warm smiles and deference, introduced as “Mr. Rush’s future fiancée.” Hearing the words makes my stomach tighten in a way I can’t quite explain. There’s something unnerving about the title, about the weight it carries. They are kind, too kind, and their familiarity with me feels odd, like they've been expecting me for a long time.The housekeeper's voice was warm and full of enthusiasm. "Stephanie, I'm so glad to finally meet you.""Finally?" I asked, but before I could catch her response, she leads me upstairs, showing me to my room. When she opens the door, I stop short. The room is stunning. It’s decorated in a way that feels… personal. T
Stephanie‘s POVThe next morning, I find Henry in his study. Sunlight streams through the tall windows, catching on the dark wood of his desk and the stacks of papers he’s sorting through. He’s pacing slowly, pen in hand, occasionally pausing to jot something down in a leather notebook. His focus is so intense that he doesn’t notice me until the floor creaks beneath my step.When he looks up, his expression shifts slightly. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—doubt, maybe curiosity.“What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone measured, even.I take a breath, steadying myself as I step into the room. “I wanted to ask you something.” My voice comes out firmer than I expect.Henry sets the pen down with a quiet clink, leaning one hand against the desk. “What is it?”“Echoview Media.” The words feel heavier spoken aloud, but I force myself to meet his gaze. “That report back then—was it you who arranged it?”For a moment, his face is unreadable. Then there’s the faintest flicker of hesitati
Stephanie‘s POVThe kitchen is warm and filled with the faint, mouthwatering scent of garlic and rosemary. I stand at the counter, trying to slice a baguette without mangling it. Across from me, Henry is stirring something in a heavy pan, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. His focus is intense, like he’s orchestrating some culinary masterpiece instead of making dinner.“Careful,” he says without looking up. “You’re holding the knife wrong.”I frown at the uneven slices I’ve already made. “I’ve been holding knives my whole life, thank you very much.”He glances at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not like that, you haven’t. Here—” He wipes his hands on a dishtowel and steps around the counter, standing just close enough that I catch a whiff of his cologne. Warm and woodsy, with an edge of something clean and sharp.Before I can protest, he reaches for my hand, adjusting my grip on the knife. His fingers are warm against mine, his touch firm but careful.“Li
Stephanie‘s POVThe name Echoview glows on my laptop screen, taunting me with its familiarity. Once upon a time, that company had been a beacon of hope in my fledgling career. I sit back, the memory unspooling like an old reel of film.***It was a rainy afternoon when Vince walked into my cubicle. Back then, he wasn’t just my boss; he was practically a god in the firm—charismatic, sharp, always one step ahead of everyone else. He leaned against the edge of my desk, his tailored suit pristine despite the downpour outside.“Stephanie,” he said, his tone softer than usual. “I just read your initial design for the Calloway project.”I swallowed, setting down my pen. “And?”A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, the kind that could disarm anyone. “It’s exceptional. Bold, but not arrogant. The kind of work we need more of around here.”The compliment hit me like a burst of sunlight after weeks of self-doubt. “Thank you,” I managed, my voice trembling with a mix of relief and di
Stephanie‘s POVMy chest tightens, a cocktail of confusion and fear swirling in my stomach. What is she talking about? I type a quick response.Run from what?Before I can even set the phone down, her next message comes through.You still remember that you had passed the interview at a few companies you tried before, but then somehow failed. Someone specifically asked them not to hire you.I don’t bother texting back. Instead, I tap her number and press the phone to my ear. It rings twice before she picks up.“Steph?” Her voice is breathless, as if she’s been waiting for my call.“Who was it?” I blurt, skipping any greeting. My words come out sharper than I intend, but I don’t care.There’s a pause on the other end, just long enough to make my pulse thrum harder.“Vince,” she says finally.Of course. That greasy, conniving bastard. It’s exactly the kind of underhanded move he’d pull.Anna and I had long suspected that Vince was involved in the scheme, so it didn’t seem like something
Stephanie‘s POVThe hallway feels like it stretches endlessly, my thoughts churning as I replay Henry’s words about Vince. How could Vince, the man I married, have betrayed someone who had once been his ally? If Henry’s claims are true, then Vince’s deceit is more than personal—it’s systemic. For years, I worked beside Vince, shared a life, a marriage, a bond I thought unshakable. Never once did I imagine he could be capable of this. My thoughts drifted back to that fateful night, the night that changed everything. It was supposed to be just another company party, nothing out of the ordinary. I remember the soft glow of the chandeliers, the tinkling of champagne glasses, and the low hum of conversation that filled the air.And then there was Vince, standing alone in a corner, looking lost and vulnerable in a sea of smiling faces. His business partner Henry betrayed him. His girlfriend at the time, Darci, had just gotten engaged to someone else. I had spent months admiring him from
Henry‘s POVThe slight look of disappointment on Stephanie’s face lingers in my mind longer than it should. It doesn’t suit her. Neither does grief or despair. She’s too strong for that, even if she doesn’t fully realize it yet. I want to tell her the truth—about Vince, about the betrayal that changed everything—but it’s not the right time. Not yet.My phone vibrates in my pocket, breaking the moment. A quick glance at the screen reveals a message from one of my subordinates, marked urgent. I suppress a sigh, slipping the phone back into my pocket. “That’s a shame,” I say lightly, forcing a calm expression. “I thought we could talk for a while longer.”Stephanie nods, as perceptive as ever. She’s always been quick to pick up on unspoken signals. “Of course,” she says, her tone polite but reserved. She steps out of the study without another word, leaving me to handle the business I hadn’t wanted to interrupt us.The door closes behind her, and I gesture for my subordinate Charlie to
Stephanie‘s POVBusiness concluded, Henry leans back in his chair, his expression easing into something almost casual. “You look a little surprised?” he asks, his voice calm but curious, as if he’s dissecting my reaction.Caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone, I nod. “Indeed, it was an accident.” I gesture vaguely to my surroundings before narrowing my eyes slightly. “You seem… to know my preferences very well.”He shrugs, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “We need to convince everyone that our marriage is real, so it’s only natural we understand each other. Your tastes are reflected clearly in your work. I simply paid attention. I hope I’m not wrong.”His words catch me off guard. For a moment, my skepticism wavers, replaced by a flicker of something warmer. My work has always been an extension of myself, and having it noticed—truly noticed—is a rare and exhilarating experience.“You’re absolutely right about my taste,” I admit, a bit of excitement slipping int
Stephanie‘s POVThe move to Henry’s house feels surreal, like none of it is really real.His home is an elegant masterpiece, understated yet undeniably luxurious, with polished wood floors that gleam under soft, golden lighting. The walls are adorned with tasteful art pieces, and every detail screams sophistication.I’m greeted by his staff with warm smiles and deference, introduced as “Mr. Rush’s future fiancée.” Hearing the words makes my stomach tighten in a way I can’t quite explain. There’s something unnerving about the title, about the weight it carries. They are kind, too kind, and their familiarity with me feels odd, like they've been expecting me for a long time.The housekeeper's voice was warm and full of enthusiasm. "Stephanie, I'm so glad to finally meet you.""Finally?" I asked, but before I could catch her response, she leads me upstairs, showing me to my room. When she opens the door, I stop short. The room is stunning. It’s decorated in a way that feels… personal. T
Stephanie‘s POVThe thought of turning to Henry lingers for days. It’s not ideal - far from it - and I have other options. Unfortunately, it’s still the best option. "If this engagement happens, it will be on my terms, not because you or anyone else decided it’s what’s best for me."The truth is glaringly obvious—Henry is the only person who can help me sever the chains Vince still has on me. My career, my autonomy, my revenge… all of it depends on making the right move, even if that move feels like a compromise.Besides, we both want revenge on Vince, don’t we? It just makes sense.Standing outside Henry’s office, I smooth the front of my blazer, trying to steel myself. Taking a deep breath, I push open the door and step inside.Henry glances up from his desk, his sharp features softening ever so slightly when he sees me. “Stephanie,” he says, his voice calm and measured. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”I walk in with purpose, taking the seat across from him. My heart is poundin