The knock on the door was sharp, urgent, almost demanding. Adrian glanced up from the magazine in his lap, his brows furrowing. “Who’s that?” “I don’t know. You expecting anyone?” I asked, already rising from the couch. “No.” His voice was clipped, distracted as he flipped another page. I opened the door and froze. Catherine. “Mia.” Her voice was soft, trembling. Her eyes, rimmed with redness, darted behind me like she was searching for something—or someone. “I need to talk to Adrian.” I didn’t move. I gripped the edge of the door, fighting the urge to slam it shut. “What do you want, Catherine?” “It’s personal,” she whispered, her lips quivering. “What’s going on?” Adrian’s voice came from behind me, steady but firm. Catherine’s eyes lit up at the sound of his voice, and her lips curved into a faint, almost grateful smile. “Adrian.” He was by my side in seconds, his presence unmistakable. His gaze flicked to her, narrowing slightly. “What’s wrong?” “I—” She falte
“I’ll give you one thing, Catherine,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “You don’t know when to quit. But you should know, persistence won’t help you this time.”Catherine smirked, leaning casually against the café counter like she owned the place. “Oh, Mia,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. “You’re so confident, aren’t you? I just hope you’re prepared for what’s coming.”---It started earlier that afternoon Adrian had left earlier in the day to meet with his grandfather about some new business proposal, and I’d decided to get some air—and coffee. What I hadn’t planned for was Catherine sitting there, perfectly poised at a table near the window. She looked like she’d stepped out of a magazine: effortlessly chic, her hair styled just right, her lips painted in that infuriating shade of confidence.I considered turning around, maybe finding another café. But then her eyes locked on mine, and she smiled. Not the warm, p
"Have you heard the latest?"The words greeted me the moment I stepped into the café. Clara, my assistant, was already leaning forward at the table, her voice a hushed whisper as if she couldn’t wait to spill the gossip. Her eyes darted around, scanning the room for eavesdroppers before landing back on me.I sat down, setting my bag beside me. "Let me guess, another scandal brewing in the business world?" I tried to keep my voice light, but I wasn’t in the mood for idle gossip.She hesitated for a second before blurting it out. "It’s about you and Adrian."My stomach tightened. "What about us?"Clara glanced around again and leaned even closer. "Someone saw Adrian and Catherine together last night. At a charity gala. Apparently, they looked very… close."I stiffened, the tension in my shoulders building. The familiar weight of last night’s message settled over me like a lead blanket. "And who exactly is 'someone'?" I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.She shrugged. "You know how
"Have you told Adrian everything about yourself yet?" Catherine’s parting words hit like a slap. I gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, my nails biting into the smooth surface as I watched her retreat. She didn’t even wait for a reaction—just walked out, heels clicking confidently on the floor. “Everything all right?” Adrian’s voice pulled me back. He had entered the room silently, his gaze flicking to where Catherine had disappeared. “Fine,” I lied, plastering on a smile that felt anything but real. “Your ex has quite the flair for dramatics, doesn’t she?” Adrian sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “What did she say this time?” “Nothing worth repeating,” I replied quickly, unwilling to open that particular can of worms. But the words stayed with me. Had I told Adrian everything? Of course not. Who does? Still, my thoughts lingered on the photo I’d received last night—the one of him and Catherine at some charity gala, looking a little too... familiar. I reached int
"I have to tell Adrian the truth."The thought echoed in my mind as I paced my room, wringing my hands. I couldn’t take it anymore—the lies, the charade, the weight of everything pressing on me. It was better Adrian heard everything from me than from someone else. I wasn’t going to let Catherine or anyone else have the satisfaction of revealing my secrets.I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, and marched out of my room. This had to be done.When I reached Adrian's study, I found him seated at his desk, his laptop glowing in the dim light of the room. He looked up as I entered, his expression unreadable."We need to talk," I said firmly, standing just a few feet from his desk.He raised an eyebrow, closing his laptop. "That sounds ominous.""It’s important," I replied, my voice barely steady."Go on," he said, leaning back in his chair, his gaze steady on me.I swallowed hard. "There’s something I need to tell you. I haven’t been completely honest with you."His expression didn’
Catherine's POVMy plans are working. But they are not good enough. I need something sharper—something that will make Mia crumble and stay down permanently. This plan is taking too long, and patience has never been my strength.I swirled the glass of wine in my hand, the dim lighting of my study casting long shadows on the walls. Across from me, Lisa lounged on the couch, her smirk as sharp as the glint in her eyes. She was the perfect ally—cold, calculated, and equally eager to see Mia fall.“It’s not enough,” I said, breaking the silence. “I need a move that will end her for good. Something Adrian can’t overlook.”Lisa leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Then you’re thinking too small, Catherine. If you want to take her down, you need someone with real influence. Someone Adrian would never ignore.”I narrowed my eyes. “And who would that be?”She smiled slyly. “Victor.”My brow furrowed. “Victor? As in Adrian’s grandfather? The man’s practically bedridden.”Lisa chuckled.
Adrian’s lips were on Catherine’s. My stomach dropped, but I didn’t give myself the luxury of freezing. I turned on my heel and walked out of the café, each step harder than the last.I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just left.---By the time we arrived at Alexandra Knight’s birthday party that evening, I had perfected the art of ignoring Adrian. He noticed, of course, but he didn’t say a word about it.I stayed on the sidelines, quietly sipping champagne while the Knight family celebrated in their grand ballroom. The party was opulent, like everything they did, and I felt out of place as always.“Mia,” came the sharp voice of Alexandra, Adrian’s mother.I turned to face her, plastering on a polite smile. “Alexandra.”“Good,” she said with a nod, as if she expected me to trip over her name. “I see you’ve learned how to address me properly.”“I do try to meet expectations,” I replied lightly, even though I
“I don’t know, man,” Adrian’s voice drifted through the slightly ajar office door. I froze mid-step, the sound of his familiar voice pulling me in like a magnet. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop—at least, that’s what I told myself—but something about the weight in his tone made me linger instead of walking away.“It’s purely business,” he said, his words sharp and matter-of-fact. “This arrangement means nothing. It’s just something I have to deal with for now.”The words hit me like a slap. My grip tightened on the glass of water in my hand as my pulse pounded in my ears.“You sure she’s on the same page as you?” another voice asked—someone I couldn’t place but recognized as one of his friends.“She knows what this is,” Adrian replied. “We both do.”A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. My heels clicked against the hardwood floor as I pushed the door open, cutting into their conversation.“Don’t let me interrupt,” I said coolly, my tone laced with venom.Adrian’s head sna
Adrian stepped toward the dock and gestured to the rowboat. “Shall we?”I hesitated, eyeing the boat skeptically. “You expect me to get in that thing? Do I look like someone who knows how to row?”He smirked, already untying the rope. “You won’t have to. I’ll do the hard part. You just sit back and enjoy.”I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow. “You’re really trying to sell this, aren’t you?”“Come on, Mia,” he said, holding a hand out to me. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”I couldn’t resist the challenge in his tone. With a resigned sigh, I took his hand and let him help me into the boat. It rocked slightly as I settled onto the bench, and I shot Adrian a glare.“If this thing tips, I’m blaming you,” I said, gripping the edge of the boat for dear life.“Noted,” he replied, climbing in after me with practiced ease. “Although, if you end up in the water, it’ll be your fault for not trusting my impeccable boating skills.”“Oh, impeccable, huh?” I shot back. “Let me guess, you’re secr
The house was eerily quiet after Max left. It was like someone had flipped a switch, silencing the tornado of energy that had been spinning through the rooms for the past two days. I stood in the living room, surveying the wreckage. Pillows were strewn across the floor, one of Max’s toy cars was stuck under the couch, and there was a faint trace of whipped cream on the coffee table that neither of us had bothered to clean up.Adrian walked in, holding two glasses of water. “It’s almost too quiet now, isn’t it?”I accepted the glass he handed me and took a sip. “Yeah, I feel like I should be hearing a six-year-old yelling about superheroes or pancakes.”Adrian chuckled, sitting down on the couch. He looked relaxed, but there was a certain heaviness to his expression that hadn’t been there earlier.“Did he tire you out that much?” I teased, plopping down next to him.“Not just him,” Adrian replied, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Parenting—even the fake kind—is exhausti
It was well past Max’s bedtime when the house finally quieted. After a long day of non-stop energy, the kid had collapsed in the guest bedroom, clutching his toy robot like it was the most precious thing in the world.Adrian and I stood in the hallway outside his room, listening to his soft snores.“Well,” I said, keeping my voice low. “That was...an experience.”Adrian rubbed the back of his neck, looking as if he’d just finished running a marathon. “I don’t know how parents do this every day.”“Admit it, you had fun,” I teased.He shot me a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “Define ‘fun.’”“Oh, come on. You were laughing at the park. You helped him build a tower out of those blocks at the toy store. And don’t think I didn’t see you trying to beat his high score on that arcade game.”Adrian’s lips twitched, but he didn’t respond.I leaned closer, smirking. “You’re a softie, aren’t you?”“Hardly,” he said, though the faint pink creeping up his neck betrayed him.Shaking my h
The next morning, I woke up to the unmistakable sound of pots clanging in the kitchen. Groaning, I checked the time—6:12 a.m. Too early for anything except coffee.As I stumbled out of the bedroom, I nearly tripped over a small robot toy parked in the hallway. Max’s backpack was propped up against the wall, and a trail of crayons led straight to the kitchen like breadcrumbs.When I reached the kitchen, the scene nearly stopped me in my tracks.Max stood on a stool, wearing one of Adrian’s button-up shirts as an oversized apron, flour smudged on his cheeks. Adrian was next to him, looking like he’d aged ten years overnight. His usual crisp morning appearance was replaced with a wrinkled t-shirt and dark circles under his eyes.“Good morning,” I said cautiously, stepping inside. “What’s going on here?”Max turned to me with a bright smile. “We’re making pancakes!”“We are not making pancakes,” Adrian corrected, his voice sharp. “We are ruining my kitchen.”“I’m helping!” Max protested,
“You’re not answering the door?” Adrian asked, his eyes flicking toward the sharp knock echoing through the mansion.“It’s your house,” I replied, lazily sipping my coffee. “Could be one of your mysterious business associates.”Adrian sighed, setting down his tablet. “Or a solicitor. Last time someone showed up unannounced, it was a guy trying to sell me a custom mailbox shaped like a yacht.”“Well, don’t keep them waiting. Could be your next yacht mailbox,” I teased, smirking.Rolling his eyes, Adrian pushed back his chair and walked to the door. “If it’s something ridiculous, you’re dealing with it next time,” he muttered under his breath.The moment he opened the door, a whirlwind of energy burst into the room in the form of a petite woman with sharp features, silver-streaked hair, and an air of authority that made me sit up straighter.“Adrian, darling, I need your help,” the woman announced, stepping inside as though she owned the place.“Eleanor,” Adrian said warily, his posture
It started with a search for coffee.I was wandering Adrian’s massive mansion one morning, wearing one of his oversized shirts and a pair of fuzzy socks, when I found myself hopelessly lost.“This place is ridiculous,” I muttered, peering into yet another empty room. “Who even needs this many doors?”Adrian had mentioned that the kitchen was “just down the hall,” but the hallways in his house seemed to stretch on forever. Just as I was about to give up and text him for help, I noticed something odd about one of the walls.It wasn’t a wall at all. It was a door—one cleverly disguised to blend in with the wood-paneled hallway.“What’s this?” I murmured, my curiosity immediately piqued.I pushed the door open and stepped inside, expecting to find a storage closet or maybe a boring office. Instead, I found a room that took my breath away.---The space was bathed in soft, natural light filtering through skylights. The walls were lined with shelves crammed with sketchbooks, canvases, and j
Adrian didn’t know what hit him when I proposed a spontaneous road trip.“A road trip?” he repeated, his brow furrowed as he glanced at the neatly packed duffel bags sitting by the door. “Mia, you’re aware we’re not teenagers anymore, right?”“Exactly why we should do it!” I said, looping my arm through his and giving him my best puppy-dog eyes. “It’s not like we have meetings to attend or deadlines to meet this weekend. Think of it as a mini getaway. Just you, me, and the open road.”He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe with a skeptical expression. “And let me guess—you already have an itinerary planned out?”“Of course,” I said, holding up my phone. “I mapped out all the best stops. Scenic views, quirky diners, maybe even a haunted inn.”“A haunted inn?” His brow shot up. “Why does it feel like I’m walking into one of your chaotic schemes again?”“Because you are,” I replied cheerfully, grabbing his hand. “Now come on, Mr. Grumpy. Live a little.”He sighed, pinching th
I was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through social media when inspiration struck. A video of a couple recreating the famous dance scene from The Notebook caught my eye. They twirled and laughed under fairy lights, the kind of perfection that made hopeless romantics sigh.“This is so cute,” I muttered to myself, tapping on the hashtag #CoupleGoalsChallenge and diving into a rabbit hole of clips. Each video featured couples doing things that ranged from heartwarming to outright silly—romantic dances, baking disasters, matching outfits, and even lip-syncing battles.The idea hit me like a bolt of lightning. I was already grinning by the time Adrian walked into the living room, holding a steaming mug of coffee.“What are you plotting now?” he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow as he caught sight of my overly enthusiastic expression.“I’m not plotting. I’m... brainstorming,” I said, tucking my phone behind me like it wasn’t filled with ideas that would probably make him regret being in
“I don’t know about you,” Adrian said, his voice warm and teasing as he leaned against the kitchen counter, “but I think we need to set some ground rules.”“Ground rules?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I poured myself a cup of coffee. “Is this your way of saying you’re already regretting this?”His lips curved into a smirk, but there was no mistaking the softness in his gaze. “No, Mia. I’m saying if we’re going to do this—really do this—I don’t want to screw it up.”I set my mug down and turned to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Okay, Mr. Rule Maker. Let’s hear it. What are these so-called ground rules?”Adrian pushed off the counter and took a step closer, his presence commanding as always. But this time, there was a gentleness to his movements, a vulnerability that made my heart skip a beat. “Rule number one,” he began, his voice low and serious. “We don’t keep secrets. If something’s bothering you, you tell me. No more guessing games.”I raised an eyebrow, leaning again