The midnight commotion began with a shock—Maximilian suddenly collapsing onto the cold kitchen floor.Panic surged through Ariadne, her thoughts racing as she scrambled to call for help. Within moments, a doctor arrived. He was a middle-aged man with an air of calm authority, his experience evident in the way he moved and spoke, even more so than Sloane, the family physician Ariadne was familiar with.Ariadne stood awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to do. She kept telling herself it wasn’t her problem and that she didn’t care, yet she found herself rooted to the spot. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the room, watching anxiously as the doctor worked.The doctor’s assistant moved efficiently, helping to organize the necessary equipment and pack up after the examination was complete. Meanwhile, the doctor approached Ariadne, his sharp gaze studying her.Ariadne stiffened, trying to maintain her indifferent demeanor. She folded her arms and averted her eyes, as if her lingering pr
Ariadne froze in shock, staring at the empty bed. Maximilian was gone, leaving behind his IV stand and no trace of his presence. Yet, miraculously, she found herself lying in his place, wrapped snugly in the thick blanket that had once covered him.She didn’t call out his name—she never did—but quickly climbed out of the bed, her mind racing as she searched for him.It made no sense, yet she moved instinctively, her steps brisk as if pulled by an unseen thread. Her heart thudded in a mix of confusion and urgency as she reached the adjoining bathroom. Without thinking, she swung the door open—and screamed.“AAAAA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”Standing there, startled, was Maximilian, stark naked. His head whipped around at her outburst, and he grabbed a towel, hastily covering himself.Maximilian stared at her, a mix of disbelief and irritation in his expression. "What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice calm but edged with confusion.Ariadne pointed an accusing finger, her cheeks burning.
The front door creaks open, and I sprint from my room, heart pounding after waiting for him for hours. I know it’s Jax—he always comes back at this ungodly hour after vanishing all night. “Jaxon Harper!” I shout as I reach the door, my fingers clutching the paper I found in his room last night.There he is, standing in the doorway. His dark hair is disheveled, and his skin has that sickly pale tint. Probably another night of drinking and partying. He stumbles in, not even glancing my way, like this is just another morning in his chaotic routine.I shove the paper in his face. "What the hell is this, Jaxon Harper?" My voice cracks with sheer disbelief. "An agreement? A marriage? Did you just sell me off to some random billionaire?Jax barely glances at me, tossing his jacket onto the couch like it's just another Tuesday. "I didn’t expect you to find out this way," he mutters, fiddling with his phone and avoiding my gaze.I stare, disbelief boiling inside me. "That’s it? So you’ve been
“Yes!” I gasp, breathless. “I’ll do whatever you want!”He leans his face in slowly, deliberate, the air thickening between us. My heart hammers in my chest, desperate and frantic. Then his voice brushes against me, cold as frost.“Then... marry me.”The words hit me like a slap, leaving me stunned. I freeze, disbelief knotting in my throat. My hope—the one last flicker I clung to—snuffs out instantly.“What?”“You said you’d do what I say.” He steps closer, his presence pressing down on me, suffocating. “I say: marry me.”I shake my head, as if I’ve misheard, as if this isn’t real. But his voice slices through my confusion, calm and merciless.“And if you really hate this agreement, then let's get married like a man and a woman should do—not like a contract tells us to.”Without waiting for a response, he turns his back and walks toward the door. His footsteps echo in the silence, a final reminder of how little he cares. He played me—made me think there was a way out, only to tear it
The rooftop venue glimmers under the morning sun, but none of it feels real to me. I sit alone at a table tucked into the garden’s corner, far from the laughter and clinking champagne glasses. This isn’t a wedding; it’s a transaction wrapped in extravagance. Guests buzz around like bees in a gilded hive, chatting and congratulating, oblivious to the suffocating weight in my chest. Maximilian’s friends and family swarm through the garden, each one effortlessly fitting into this world he dragged me into three days ago—a world I don’t belong to. “Oh, the bride is beautiful! What a dress!” “I heard the wedding was arranged quickly. No one expecting this marriage before.” “Strange, isn't it? But look at this—he spared no expense, proofing everything.” “She’s lucky. It’s Maximilian Milton, after all. Who wouldn’t want to be in her shoes?” Lucky. That word cuts through me. I glance at the ring on my finger, a sparkling band I never wanted. My thumb rubs the cold metal as if tryin
“Madam!”I shift my gaze to the two men running toward me; a flicker of panic crosses their faces, subtle but unmistakable. They are the guards who wanted to follow me—Mr. Andymon and Mr. Patrick. They quickly lead me away from the guard about to escort me into the elevator, and I feel a sense of loss as Mr. Patrick pulls him aside.Their stiff posture and the way their eyes dart to him without making direct contact tell me everything and nothing at once. They move too smoothly, like a choreographed dance—efficient and polished—as if trying to keep me calm and ensure I don’t notice that something is off. But I do.“Madam, are you finished?” Mr. Andymon asks, his tone light and polite, as if we’re discussing brunch rather than a situation that’s setting off every alarm in my head. “You should head back to the roof soon.”I fold my arms and narrow my eyes at Mr. Andymon. “I ruined my makeup,” I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Should I go back upstairs and chat with the guests lo
The moment I lift my gaze, the air leaves my lungs—it’s him.“Are you gonna leave your husband just like this, right after the wedding party?”Maximilian. Sitting across from me like a ghost from a nightmare. I blink, hoping he’ll disappear, but no—he’s real. He found me.He looks terrible. The usual sharp elegance is gone—dark hair disheveled, stubble shadowing his jaw, and cold, bloodshot eyes ringed with exhaustion. His suit is wrinkled, shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He seems worn down, but far from defeated.Maximilian leans back, jaw tight, struggling to maintain control. His gaze locks onto mine, steady yet simmering with restrained anger.“How did you...?”He cuts me off, leaning in with infuriating calm, like he’s already won. “If I missed your train, I would’ve taken my helicopter.” A pause, heavy with meaning. “Understand your position now?” His voice drops, sharp and deliberate. “Stop causing trouble.”The words hit like a slap. My nails dig into my palms to stop my hands
Ariadne returned to New York, stepping back into the gilded cage she now called home: Maximilian’s penthouse. She was exhausted, but her weariness offered no comfort, only a grim reminder of the trap she'd walked back into—a prison lined with luxury, where she felt chained by Maximilian's iron will.“Leave us,” Maximilian commanded, his voice low and final. His men filed out, leaving the two of them alone in the vast, opulent space. The grandeur of the penthouse felt like it was pressing down on Ariadne, each polished surface and lavish detail suffocating her. She met Maximilian’s gaze, her own filled with fury and disdain, while his looked pale, beads of sweat forming on his brow, yet his hands trembled only slightly as he attempted to reach for her."Don't touch me." She jerked back sharply, her voice cold and laced with venom.Maximilian’s jaw clenched. Ignoring her protest, he grabbed her roughly, forcing her onto the couch with a grip that left no room for defiance. Ariadne's bre
Ariadne froze in shock, staring at the empty bed. Maximilian was gone, leaving behind his IV stand and no trace of his presence. Yet, miraculously, she found herself lying in his place, wrapped snugly in the thick blanket that had once covered him.She didn’t call out his name—she never did—but quickly climbed out of the bed, her mind racing as she searched for him.It made no sense, yet she moved instinctively, her steps brisk as if pulled by an unseen thread. Her heart thudded in a mix of confusion and urgency as she reached the adjoining bathroom. Without thinking, she swung the door open—and screamed.“AAAAA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”Standing there, startled, was Maximilian, stark naked. His head whipped around at her outburst, and he grabbed a towel, hastily covering himself.Maximilian stared at her, a mix of disbelief and irritation in his expression. "What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice calm but edged with confusion.Ariadne pointed an accusing finger, her cheeks burning.
The midnight commotion began with a shock—Maximilian suddenly collapsing onto the cold kitchen floor.Panic surged through Ariadne, her thoughts racing as she scrambled to call for help. Within moments, a doctor arrived. He was a middle-aged man with an air of calm authority, his experience evident in the way he moved and spoke, even more so than Sloane, the family physician Ariadne was familiar with.Ariadne stood awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to do. She kept telling herself it wasn’t her problem and that she didn’t care, yet she found herself rooted to the spot. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the room, watching anxiously as the doctor worked.The doctor’s assistant moved efficiently, helping to organize the necessary equipment and pack up after the examination was complete. Meanwhile, the doctor approached Ariadne, his sharp gaze studying her.Ariadne stiffened, trying to maintain her indifferent demeanor. She folded her arms and averted her eyes, as if her lingering pr
Maximilian closed his tired eyes, hoping for a moment of rest after an exhausting day.Since returning to work, he had handed the company’s reins to Gideon during his recovery, but as its leader, a permanent reprieve from responsibility was never an option. Maximilian had anticipated the chaos of his first days back, but he hadn’t foreseen how deeply it would strain his body.Feeling the ache intensify, he turned to the drawer beside his bed and retrieved a small bottle of medicine. With practiced precision, he swallowed a dose, his expression tightening as he leaned back.“I still need to adapt to this heart,” he muttered to himself, one hand brushing against the area of his chest where the surgery scar lay. The lingering pain in his stitches made him wince. For a fleeting moment, he considered pressing the area to ease the discomfort but dismissed the thought, knowing the risk of causing further complications.Exhaling heavily, Maximilian returned to bed and stretched out. The effec
Gideon’s words made Ariadne pause, her initial question forgotten as a new thought surfaced.He scoffed lightly. “It’s refreshing to see how he treats others. Seems like there’s still a trace of humanity left in him.”Ariadne narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying you think he lacks humanity?”Gideon tilted his head, throwing her question back at her. “What do you think? You’re the loudest voice when it comes to proclaiming his so-called ‘cruelty’ to the world.”She fell silent, her retort stuck in her throat. As much as she hated to admit it, Gideon might be right. In her narrative, Maximilian had always been the villain.But Gideon gave her a knowing smile. “Despite his coldness and cruelty, look at how he treats you here. How he ensures you’re taken care of. I even heard your friend paid you a visit—entirely with his knowledge and approval.”Ariadne’s voice rose with anger. “It’s nothing compared to what your brother did to me! Locking me here, isolating m
Due to Ariadne’s sprained ankle and fragile health, Maximilian finally arranged for maids to stay at the penthouse, ensuring she received proper care and attention. While Ariadne rested, fully pampered by the services he provided, Maximilian returned to his duties. However, he still made a point of appearing at each mealtime, showing up to share her company.Like this morning, Maximilian came to Ariadne’s room with breakfast, ensuring she ate with him there. He eased her situation by sparing her the effort of going to the dining room, instead choosing to join her so they could share their meals together.Despite his efforts, Ariadne couldn’t hide her irritation; seeing Maximilian’s face so often remained an unwelcome routine for her.As soon as the maid cleared the plates, Maximilian asked, "How’s your ankle?"Ariadne responded coolly, though with less edge than yesterday. "Better. Not as painful as it was.""Good," Maximilian replied. "Seems like you're aiming to recover quickly befo
Maximilian hurried to Ariadne’s room, flinging the door open—only to freeze at the sound of a sharp crash.“Ack!”He glanced behind the door and found Ariadne curled up on the floor, clutching the back of her head. Shocked, Maximilian realized the door had struck her, leaving her in tears.Panic swept over him as he knelt beside her. “Harper…” he stammered, uncertain and distressed.Ariadne shot him an irritated glare, her voice laced with sarcasm. “What are you doing? Trying to kill me?”“I didn’t mean to,” Maximilian defended, exasperated. “Why were you behind the door anyway—and why were you screaming?”Ariadne couldn’t respond; a wave of dizziness clouded her senses, her right eye throbbed, her back ached, and her toes stung, having been caught under the door when Maximilian barged in. All she could do was curl up, frustrated and helpless, though she desperately wanted to yell at him.Without a word, Maximilian carefully lifted her, carrying her over to the bed before calling for
Maximilian returned just in time for dinner, much to Ariadne’s disappointment. She had hoped he wouldn't come back, knowing their deal required them to eat together all week for her to earn the freedom to go outside."Looks like I made it back in time," Maximilian remarked, eyeing the dinner set out on the table.Ariadne muttered under her breath, "Shit..."Maximilian heard her but only smirked, amused by her frustration, as he took his seat across from her. He began to eat, clearly savoring the chef's special preparation, which confirmed Ariadne’s suspicion—he’d timed his arrival to keep their arrangement intact.Though Ariadne remained silent, the clinking of her fork and knife against the plate filled the air, adding a tension to the table that needed no words.Maximilian was silently annoyed by Ariadne's noisy eating—his upbringing had taught him to maintain quiet at the table—but he kept his expression composed, finishing his meal while she was still halfway through."Is there so
Ariadne couldn’t deny that Maximilian had changed since his month-long disappearance. Though she hardly knew him, she’d understood enough: Maximilian was typically apathetic, cold, and uninterested in connecting with anyone. But since his return, there was a subtle shift in his behavior.Despite being the head of a vast business empire, he spent his days confined to the penthouse, forcing Ariadne to endure the irritation of their constant, unavoidable encounters. And then there were his attempts at conversation—he’d ask trivial questions, like whether she’d slept well, as though it mattered to him.Sitting at the dining table, her glass now empty, Ariadne pondered aloud, “Does he feel guilty? For leaving me for a month?”But even these gestures grated on her. Every action of his, whether indifferent or suddenly attentive, felt suffocating, as if he was closing in on her world, inch by inch, leaving her feeling more trapped than ever.Ariadne's gaze drifted toward the stairs just as Ma
Ariadne couldn’t escape Maximilian's words: "From the moment I took you out of your house, I was already cursed." The phrase echoed in her mind as she went about her day, lingering at the edges of her thoughts when she was alone. As she slipped under the covers at night, as she sipped her morning coffee, or as she simply walked past Maximilian, his statement haunted her, evoking a new question each time: What did he mean by that? What curse did he suffer?She tried distracting herself, her eyes fixed on the television, yet she absorbed nothing from the screen. Her thoughts wandered back to him, cycling through frustration and confusion. Annoyed, she let out a cluck. "Does he think of me as a curse to him? Damn it," she muttered, frustrated. "If he truly felt cursed, why did he marry me in the first place? And if he’s so cursed, shouldn't he have divorced me by now?"Her private resentment simmered until she heard the sound of footsteps descending the staircase. She glanced up to see M