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.I wanted to scream. Necessary? For whom? Darci
Stephanie‘s POVThe cold night air bites at my skin as I stand outside the venue, staring at Henry with disbelief. The crowd has dispersed, and we are finally alone—well, as alone as one can be when tension hangs as thick as fog.The crowd, especially Vince and Darci, had been dealt with—at least for now. But there was still one more important question that needed to be answered.My voice quieter now but still laced with the urgency of my confusion, "Why did you do it, Henry? In front of everyone… Why announce our engagement like that when I haven’t even said yes yet?" Did he truly have intention of giving up on that contract marriage? Was he using this opportunity to push things forward? He had previously told me I could take some time to think, but now I couldn't help but wonder—was that just a stalling tactic?Henry let out a small sigh, lifting a hand to rub his forehead, trying to ease his tense nerves. He nodded toward the car parked by the side of the road and spoke in a calm
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 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 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
Stephanie’s POVI blink.My ears must be deceiving me.Of all the ridiculous accusations Vince and Darci could throw at me, this is what they chose?“WHat does that mean?” I say slowly, making sure my voice remains calm, level, even as something inside me boils.“You heard her,” Darci says, crossing her arms, smugness radiating off her like cheap perfume. “You used Vince’s company resources for that project, and now that it’s been conveniently handed off to the Henrys, the only explanation is that you leaked it.”I let out a sharp laugh, incredulous. “That’s the best you could come up with? That I somehow stole my own project?”Vince takes a deliberate step forward, his glare cutting through me like a sharpened blade. “It was never your project, Stephanie,” he snaps. “It belonged to my company. My company. Now you’re standing here, trying to play innocent while handing it over to Henry?”I bristle.“It was mine long before you decided to claim it,” I counter, meeting his fury with my
Stephanie’s POVI wake up feeling warm. Too warm.The weight draped across my waist is solid, steady, and unmistakably not a blanket.I freeze.My mind, still sluggish from sleep, struggles to make sense of the situation until reality crashes into me like a tidal wave.Henry.His arm is wrapped around me. His breath, slow and even, ghosts against the nape of my neck. His body, solid and firm, presses lightly against my back.I am in Henry’s arms. Oh my God.Every part of me screams to move, to slip out of his grasp before he wakes up and realizes what’s happening, but I’m completely paralyzed.How did this even happen? I fell asleep on my side of the bed. I made sure of it. I had kept my distance, kept to my side, and yet here I am, wrapped up in Henry like some lovesick fool.I feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, his deep, rhythmic breathing telling me that he’s still asleep.Thank God.I can fix this.Carefully, painstakingly carefully, I inch my body away from him. His arm ti
Stephanie’s POVThe bathroom door opens with a soft creak, releasing a wave of warm steam into the room. I glance up instinctively—and immediately wish I hadn’t.Henry stands before me, fresh from his shower, a towel slung casually around his waist. Droplets of water trail down his sculpted chest, following the ridges of defined muscles before disappearing beneath the towel’s edge. His dark hair is damp, strands clinging to his forehead, giving him an almost boyish look that is completely at odds with the sharp, imposing presence he usually carries.I swallow hard. I shouldn’t be looking. I am absolutely looking.A blush creeps up my neck, and I tear my gaze away, desperate for a distraction.Henry seems entirely unbothered by my flustered state. He towels off his hair, acting as if it’s completely normal for us to be sharing a room—sharing a bed—as if this is just another business arrangement and nothing more.“You’re staring,” he says without looking at me, amusement clear in his vo
Stephanie’s POVI pace the room, arms crossed over my chest, still grappling with the reality of our situation. Sharing a bed with Henry was one thing, but knowing that Joseph would undoubtedly be keeping a close watch on our relationship? That was a whole new level of pressure.I bite my lip, glancing toward Henry, who seems completely at ease as he reviews some notes about our upcoming project.“You know your grandfather is going to be watching us, right?” I finally say, breaking the silence. “I mean, really watching us.”Henry doesn’t even look up. “Of course.”I narrow my eyes. How is he so calm about this?“Doesn’t that bother you?” I press.Now, he does glance up, one brow lifting in mild amusement. “Why would it?”I throw my hands up. “Because it’s weird! He wants to make sure you’re happy, and he’s obviously skeptical of me. What if I mess up; what if he realizes this is all fake?”Henry sets his papers aside and leans back in his chair, arms folding over his chest. “Stephanie
Stephanie’s POVRobert doesn’t even hesitate.“No.” His tone is absolute, sharp, like a gavel hitting a courtroom desk. There is no room for negotiation in his voice, and yet, I don’t falter.I expected this. I anticipated this level of resistance.So, I smile.Not sweetly, but coldly, calculated, like a chess player making their next move.“That’s unfortunate,” I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “I was really hoping we could work something out amicably.”His expression remains unreadable, but his eyes narrow slightly. He doesn’t trust me.Good.I tilt my head, my voice softer now, but laced with a quiet threat. “If you’re really refusing… well, I guess I’ll have no choice but to go public.”A pin-drop silence follows.Henry, seated beside me, remains still, though I sense his amusement. His fingers tap lightly against his knee, as though waiting for the inevitable outcome.“You wouldn’t,” Claire sneers, her nails digging into the fabric of the chair.I smile wider. “Oh, guess.”I lean
Stephanie‘s POVI think I have finally escaped Ryan’s harassment. But just when I think I can breathe again, that same, revolting touch resurfaces.My heart races, and every inch of my body screams in protest.I can't take it anymore. I’m done.I don’t hesitate.With calculated force, I bring my heel down on Ryan’s foot, pressing down hard enough to make sure he feels it.He lets out a choked yelp, his whole body jerking in pain. The room goes silent.All eyes turn toward us. Henry, seated beside me, tenses immediately, his sharp gaze flicking between me and his brother.“What’s wrong?” their mother demands, her voice clipped with irritation.Ryan grits his teeth, schooling his face into something more composed, though I see the flicker of anger in his eyes. “It’s nothing,” he mutters, but when Claire glares at him, he quickly adds, “Stephanie… came onto me.”A heavy silence blankets the room.I blink, stunned for a moment at the sheer audacity of his lie.Ryan exhales sharply, wincin