SHARON "She definitely can't," I replied. "Although, she did yell that she was going to kill me before her voice finally gave out." "Good for her. So, what's the progress with Tony?" she inquired. I smiled. "Well, I've successfully transferred all the money in his account into mine. It's quite a large sum—over a hundred million dollars. That's way more than what you're paying me. Are you sure you want me to keep all of it?" "Why? Don't you want it?" she retorted. I chuckled, my heart racing at the thought of losing all that money. "Saying I want this money is an understatement, ma'am. I just wanted to make sure you're aware of everything, so there wouldn't be any surprises for you down the line." "It's fine," she replied smoothly. "I've already recovered the company funds he stashed in his offshore accounts. The money you have is nothing to me. Besides, you've earned it after working so hard." "Thank you, thank you so much, ma'am," I gushed, my excitement palpable. Part of me h
MARIANNE Troy and I had just enjoyed a lighthearted evening bowling, something I hadn’t done in years. Being with him brought out a playful side of me, a side I almost forgot existed. But as soon as Sharon called, her voice tight with urgency, telling me about Britney, my mood shifted. Without hesitation, I made a few calls and ensured her arrest. Though part of me wanted to witness her arrest firsthand, I was occupied with more important matters. Still, knowing the entire event was captured on CCTV and that I’d have access to watch it later gave me satisfaction. I planned to savor the moment from the comfort of my home, relishing the image of Britney in handcuffs. I could hardly wait for the changes the coming week would bring. Tony and Britney were finally about to face the consequences they deserved. The company funds that Tony had secretly siphoned into hidden accounts were back where they belonged, thanks to me. Sharon had drained his remaining assets, leaving him in the exa
MARIANNE I folded my arms tightly across my chest, feeling the tension coil inside me as I stared incredulously at the woman standing before me. This woman who, impossibly, was supposed to be dead. Yet here she was, brazen and unapologetic, claiming the life I’d carefully built. My fists clenched instinctively. "Take back what is yours?" I echoed, my voice laced with bitterness. "You talk about Troy like he’s some possession. You do realize he's my husband, right?" She let out a mocking scoff, rolling her eyes. "Husband? Oh, come on. We both know your so-called marriage is nothing but a farce. Troy told me all about it." I felt my stomach tighten. "Troy told you about it?" I asked, struggling to keep the quiver from my voice. "Yes," she replied smoothly, a smug smile creeping across her face. "He told me everything. He said it was only temporary—that once things settled, he’d be back with me where he belongs. You know your place, don’t you? Wearing my face, living with my man… n
MARIANNE "Shut the hell up," Troy yelled. He gripped Aislinn's hand, his jaw clenched as he began dragging her towards the door, ready to throw her out. She fought back, her pleas piercing through the air, "Stop, baby! Please, just listen!" "Enough! Enough!" I screamed, my voice breaking as it cut through their heated exchange. "Enough of this drama, Troy and Aislinn." Troy froze, his hand dropping from hers as he turned to face me, his eyes searching mine, pleading. "Listen, Cherie..." "Don’t call me that," I shot back, my voice colder than I’d intended. "This was a mistake from the very beginning." "No, Aislinn, listen—" "I am not Aislinn!" I yelled, the words ripped from me in a torrent of frustration and hurt. "My name is Marianne. There, that is Aislinn, that is your Aislinn, Troy." He looked taken aback, his face a mix of regret and confusion. "Listen to me," he said softly. "I understand what you're thinking right now, okay? But just calm down and listen to what
TROY I felt a tremor of shock ripple through me at what unfolded before my eyes. The turn of events was staggering, like a tidal wave crashing over my heart. When I first heard a female voice call out to me while I was still in the kitchen, I knew something was wrong. The person certainly didn't sound like Marianne. It was clear now—Aislinn was doing everything possible to provoke Marianne, to disrupt the fragile peace I’d worked so hard to establish. I just wished, more than anything, that Marianne would calm down, take a breath, and allow me a chance to speak. But she was stubborn, fiercely so, and that stubbornness was as much a part of her as the pulse in her veins. I loved her for it, yet sometimes, it drove a wedge between us. I tried to explain, tried to reach her through the wall she’d put up, but it was like trying to catch the wind. Watching her walk away felt like watching my world shatter, as if each step she took was ripping something vital from me. It was like a
TROY As the days dragged on painfully, I remained rooted at Marianne's apartment, unwilling to leave, despite her absence. I kept hoping she would return, but day after day passed—one, two, three days, then four—and still, there was no sign of her. The empty silence grew louder with each passing moment, filling me with a gnawing emptiness. My mind was clouded with fear, frustration, and an ache that wouldn’t let me rest. I searched for her tirelessly, refusing to give up. I went to her company every morning, visited the police station, and scoured every place I thought she might be. I was haunted by her absence, by the need to see her, to know she was safe. And with each fruitless attempt, the weight of despair only grew heavier, crushing my resolve bit by bit. Still, there was no sign of her. My phone chimed occasionally, and each time, my heart would leap with a flicker of hope—only to realize it was another call or message from Aislinn, whose persistence grated on my last ner
TROY The sharp sting of Marianne’s slap echoed through the courtroom and reverberated deep in my chest. My hand instinctively flew to my cheek, as if trying to confirm what had just happened. I stared at her in stunned silence, my breath caught somewhere between shock and disbelief. “How dare you touch me!” she spat, her voice laced with anger and an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “What happened to you?” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. She met my gaze, her eyes like ice, sharp and unyielding. “Listen to me, and listen carefully. Stay away from me and anything that has to do with me.” Her words hit harder than the slap. There was a cold finality to her tone that made my stomach twist. “Initially, I thought of sending you the divorce papers,” she continued, her voice steady but trembling at the edges, “but then it occurred to me that I married you as Aislinn. Everything—the identity I used—was a fake one. Hence, there’s no need for a divorce. You can go be with your A
MARIANNE “This court finds the accused, Mr. Tony Vane, guilty of four counts of complicity in perjury, unlawful imprisonment leading to death, attempted murder, and embezzlement of company funds, and sentences him to life imprisonment with hard labor in the Norwegian island prison.” “The court also finds the accused, Mrs. Britney Vane, guilty of five counts of kidnapping, bestickning and hot, bribery, Perjury, and unlawful imprisonment leading to death, and sentences her to life imprisonment with hard labor in the Norwegian island prison.” As I listened to the judge’s final verdict, I exhaled slowly, a quiet sigh of relief escaping my lips. It was over. Tony, Britney, and Mildred had been brought to justice. Mildred received eight years in prison for perjury and complicity in embezzlement, which I believed was adequate punishment. Yet, as the gavel struck, signaling the conclusion, an unexpected emptiness welled up inside me. This was everything I had fought for—justice for my
Freya quickly made a phone call, and as she had promised, Alva was offered a job and asked to report for work the very next day. "I still can’t believe it—I actually got a job! Thank you so much, Freya," Alva said, her face lighting up with excitement. "You’re welcome," Freya replied, smiling. "And the good thing is, this place pays weekly, so you won’t have to wait too long to get your money." "That’s great, but it doesn’t matter much to me," Alva said. "I’m not planning to spend the money—I’ll save every bit of it." When Alva arrived at the supermarket, she was amazed at how luxurious it was. "Freya’s boyfriend must be incredibly wealthy," she thought. "If he can bring her to such a high-end place, he must have more money than I imagined." As she reported for her first day, Alva realized that a different manager was on seat and the latter stared at her with an air of disdain. Alva tried to brush off the unease she felt, smiling politely. She regretted not wearing one o
Freya smiled warmly at Alva and said, "Come on, have you forgotten how you’ve been cooped up at home all this time? Ever since you lost your Granny, you haven’t really been yourself. How could I have introduced you to him then?" Alva nodded slowly, her eyes thoughtful. "You’re right. But now, I really want to meet him, okay?" Freya grinned. "Okay. He’s really busy, but I’ll talk to him. Of course, he’ll make time to meet my best friend." As they sat in the cab heading back home, Freya turned to Alva, her face lighting up. "You know, Lance promised to buy me a car soon." Alva’s eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That’s amazing!" Freya nodded, clearly excited. "Yeah, he said it could be any day now. I can’t wait!" "You’re so lucky," Alva said, a hint of awe in her voice. Freya beamed. "I feel like all my dreams are finally coming true. Oh, and guess what? Lance also said he wants to send me to college. What do you think? We could go together—he’ll take care of everything
After Pete left her alone in the room, Alva struggled against the ropes binding her hands, twisting and pulling with all her strength. The coarse material bit into her skin, leaving red marks, but she couldn’t free herself. Tears welled up in her eyes, frustration and anger bubbling inside her. The door creaked open, and Pete entered, accompanied by a group of maids. Alva’s heart sank as she watched him approach with an infuriatingly smug expression. He walked over and untied her hands. “Here you go,” he said, gesturing to the maids. “These are the women who will be at your beck and call.” Alva glanced at the group of over twelve maids and rolled her eyes. "As if I need all this fuss," she thought bitterly. “And,” Pete continued, “there are also ten bodyguards assigned to you. They’ll keep an eye on you, so don’t try anything funny. You wouldn’t want to get hurt, would you?” He turned to one of the maids and ordered, “Make sure she eats. She looks too pale—it’s making me lose my
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Alva remained at home, crying harder than she ever had in her entire life. Her Granny had been her entire world—the only person she truly considered family, the only one who had ever shown her unconditional love. Her mother and brother? They couldn’t have cared less about her, and she knew it deep in her soul. While Alva grieved, her best friend Freya was out shopping, spending the money from Jonas’s card. Freya bought everything her heart desired—clothes, furniture, and even a house. Each time Freya spent the money, Jonas received an alert. Every time his phone buzzed, he shook his head, muttering to himself. "I’ll wait and see what she does when the money runs out." Freya purchased a new house for her parents and even bought herself a smaller, beautiful home. Despite her spending spree, Freya made time to check on Alva. She called, visited, and tried to comfort her grieving friend. But Freya never told Alva the truth about the card.
After hiding the card, Freya returned to the room and knocked softly on the door. Alva, who had just finished drying herself and putting on the dress Freya had brought, opened the door. Her eyes were still red and swollen from crying. Freya stepped inside, trying to keep her expression calm. "What happened?" Alva asked, her voice shaky. "Did you return the card?" Freya nodded quickly, forcing a reassuring smile. "Yes, I gave it to the staff at the counter. They said they’ll contact him immediately." "Good," Alva muttered, her fists clenching at her sides. "He can take his dirty money and go to hell." Freya reached out and touched her arm gently. "Come on, let’s get out of here." Just as they turned toward the door, it suddenly burst open, and Diego stormed in, his face twisted with anger. "Well, well, well. Look who we have here," Diego sneered, his eyes narrowing at Alva. "You call me names, act like you’re chaste, and then run straight into another man’s bed. You’re no
Alva reached for Jonas once again, her hands going around his neck as she tried to kiss him. Pushing her hands away, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her toward the bed. "Enough with the act," he said sharply. "I’m not falling for it." When she fell on the bed, Alva rubbed her hands around her body seductively, as she felt the heat course through her body. She could not recognize the man standing in front of her, and at this point, it didn't matter to her. Diego had slipped a potent Aphrodisiac pill into the wine she drank, knowing she would lose control of herself. He had believed she would willingly give herself to him once the drug took effect, but unfortunately for him, he could not go into Jonas' room as he feared that the latter could get upset and destroy him. He had seen Jonas take Alva into his room and shut his door, and at this time, he stood outside Jonas' room, his fists balled as anger and frustration bubbled inside him. Knowing how much wealth and
After drinking from the glass Diego gave her, Alva felt her stomach twist, but she tried to ignore it. She turned to leave, eager to get away from him. But Diego’s voice stopped her. "Hold on. Aren’t you going to stay and listen to me make the call? Sit down and wait. I promised I’d call your mom." Alva shook her head. "It’s okay. I trust you’ll do it." Diego’s eyes darkened. "If you walk out of that door, I’ll change my mind." Her heart sank. She had no choice. With a reluctant nod, she returned to the chair, her hands gripping the edge of the table. Diego, meanwhile, took his sweet time operating his phone, smirking every now and then as if enjoying her discomfort. "Um, anytime now," Alva muttered impatiently. "I need to get back to my Granny at the hospital." Diego pretended to act surprised. "Oh, right, my bad. Let me call your mom now." He dialed the number and put the phone on speaker, glancing at Alva as her head dipped slightly. She blinked hard, feeling dizzier
"Alright, fine! Just leave her here for now. The day isn’t over yet. I’ll get the money before the day ends, I promise!" Alva pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation. The nurse shook her head firmly. "I’m sorry, but we can’t keep her here. We have to move her to the public ward. The bill from last night hasn’t been paid, and today’s charges were due this morning. Once you pay everything and show us the receipt, we’ll bring her back to the private ward." Alva’s heart sank. "How much could it possibly be? Isn’t it just a few dollars?" The nurse gave a bitter laugh. "A few dollars? No, your grandmother owes almost a hundred thousand dollars." Alva froze, her voice rising in disbelief. "That’s impossible! That’s a lie!" The nurse’s expression remained calm, almost pitying. "You can check with the accounts department if you don’t believe me." "But how did the bill get so high? How can it cost that much?" The nurse sighed. "Her surgery was never paid for. Your mom, or wh
EARLIER IN THE DAY After saying goodbye to her friend Freya, Alva returned home. As she walked through the door, she immediately noticed her mom waiting in the living room. Her brother, Spear, was nowhere in sight, but there was someone else sitting on the worn-out couch—a man whose presence made her stomach churn. Alva froze for a moment. She recognized him. His name was Diego, a notorious figure in the city. He was involved in shady businesses and also managed several bars. Just seeing him in her house sent a wave of unease through her. “Mom, what’s going on?” Alva asked cautiously, walking to her mother’s side. Her mom smiled, her expression unsettlingly warm. “Sit down, my dear.” Alva hesitated. That smile wasn’t normal—it was too forced, too sweet. She knew her mom didn’t really like her. Ever since Alva could remember, she had been treated like an outsider. Being adopted only made things worse. The only people who had ever truly loved her were her father and grandmothe