Violet Wintour is a controversial heiress in the 21st-century high society, but not for the same reasons other rich kids of London are. Her father, the Duke of Averbury, passed away with a family will that leads to a surprising twist. Across the world, Clare Leighton is living a modest life. Years of struggling with bankruptcy begin to take a toll on her family. Her caring yet depressed parents force her to take a different path that she hasn't prepared for. When the hand of fate brings these two different women together, something is going to change forever.
View MoreClaire ended up getting a stylo, which she thought was among the other expensive accessories that didn’t seem too otherworldly expensive. But the pen ended up costing a whopping fifty thousand pounds. Claire was flabbergasted. Violet had to give her a look as if to say, “Wipe that damn expression off your face right now!” when the sales clerk announced the price.“Can I not take it anymore?” Claire asked Violet in a soft whisper. She had never thought that such a simple fountain pen could cost more than her annual income.“Don’t be bloody ridiculous,” Violet said in a low voice. “Just get it and leave.”“Okay, but I like ordinary, normal-functioning, and somewhat pretty-looking pens,” Claire replied. “What would I do with a pen that is worth £50,000?”“I suppose you could write with it? Or throw it away. Either way, I don’t care,” Violet said with a bored look, as if they were just talking about a thrifted shirt they found at Goodwill.“Throw it away?” Claire hissed. “You’re out of yo
Claire sensed them the moment she walked in. She could feel the air in the room shift. Violet looked as stoic as ever, yet her eyes seemed brighter than usual. Eleanor smiled sweetly at them, appearing as graceful and poised as she always had.“Violet, Claire might need some help to choose,” Florence announced, looking between her and the Duchess. “Would you be kind enough to come with her?”Violet was relieved by the request. She needed to be away from Eleanor. She couldn't stand another minute in the same space with her.“Of course,” Violet said without hesitation and came forward to take Claire’s hand. “Anything you fancy yet?”Claire cleared her throat, “I'm afraid not.”“Must be hard when you're picky, hmm? Perhaps, something extra special?” the Duchess said with a smile. “I wouldn’t want my fiancée walking around empty-handed, would I?”Claire felt a cringe creeping up her spine, but she tried to still herself. It was mind-blowingly unnatural hearing sweet tender words from some
In haste, the Duchess untangled herself from Claire. Her face was aflame with embarrassment. The mystery of how she found herself entwined with the woman eluded her. It was beyond confusion.The light from the rising sun filled the bedroom. Violet's eyes squinted. There was still an uneasy hush that permeated the space. Claire cleared her throat, trying to think of anything to say about the strange circumstance.The Duchess also hesitated, her unease visible in the slight color that lingered on her cheeks. "I...I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I don't know how I got here."Claire sat up in bed as the words hung in the air. Her tousled hair framed her face in a disheveled yet charming way. She brushed a strain of hair from her face, looking awkward. The Duchess moved away, and Claire was relieved to remain alive. Claire thought the woman would rip her head off right there and then when she woke up. And to her surprise, she even apologized!That's a first, she tho
After a long dinner with endless gourmet food, drinks, and laughter, the friends finally called it a night since they didn't want to overexcite themselves and needed to save the energy for more fun-filled activities that they had planned around the dining table. At 10:30 PM, everyone went to their separate sleeping quarters and so did the Duchess and her bride-to-be. As Violet and Claire entered their room, a sense of unease settled upon them. The space was cozy, with soft lighting casting a warm glow on the floral-patterned wallpaper. A large, inviting bed stood in the center, its pristine white silk sheets looked like inviting soft clouds. But for Violet and Claire, it felt more like a shared burden than a place of comfort. Awkward silences hung in the air as they tiptoed around the elephant in the room—the bed they were meant to share tonight and every night for the rest of their trip. The two women exchanged nervous glances, their discomfort palpable. Violet and Claire stood i
The grand dining room exudes an aura of elegance and refinement as seven distinguished guests gather for an exquisite dinner. Soft candlelight dances on the polished silverware and crystal glasses, casting a warm glow throughout the space. The dinner was held on a large balcony with a sea view. The breeze and the sound of waves in the distance added flavor to the evening ambiance. The table is adorned with delicate floral arrangements, giving a touch of nature to the opulent setting. At the head of the table, the host, Arthur Cliffton, son of a Scottish duke, dressed casually for the evening at his beach house. To his right was Jasmine, a renowned artist with her creative spirit evident in her vibrant multi-colored dress. On the left, Jonathan, the young earl, whose smile shined through in every conversation. Seated across from the host was the most handsome, Lord Federick, known for his sweetness and intelligence, was talking delightfully with the ladies. In this enchanting dining t
Violet walked into the room, taking in its grandeur. The room was massive and was indeed splendid, but not in an old-fashioned way as Violet had expected. As she wandered around, the Duchess was rather impressed with the design and its hidden size. Violet felt the need to sit down on a cushioned sofa that looked incredibly inviting after a long flight. She observed the space and noticed the chestnut-colored floorboard that gave off a warm feeling. That was what she wanted for a home - a feeling of warmth and comfort. Like her mother, she would want a place to be some sort of sanctuary. It made her miss Averbury already. The bookshelf was overflowing with hardbound books. Just like a wine cellar stocked with fine wines, these shelves were for great collections of the classics and the valuables. Violet went to the credenza to pour herself a glass of cool water, which had slices of lemons in it. She flopped down again in a wing-back chair by the floor-to-ceiling window and looked outsid
"Oh, how I miss coming to the sun-drenched island of Spain." Florence took a lungful of fresh air. She stepped out of the private jet that had landed at the Canary Island's international airport. The second person to follow was Clare. It was her first time on a private jet. She was still getting used to the special treatments that came with her status, but she was trying to be mindful and kept close to Florence.The whole flight was a smooth and easy journey, and Violet spent the entirety of it quietly working away on her laptop. If she wasn't typing, she was speaking on the phone. The Duchess dove straight to her work and hardly saw Clare again after their dinner night, but when they met during the trip, they had been somewhat cord
Violet considered bailing on the plan to the island that her peers proposed. Going on a trip together and pretending to be a lovey-dovey couple with Clare, not to mention seeing her ex, would be testing her sanity. The thought of it alone exhausted her. It'd been two days since Violet was made to stay in bed, and Clare had come with her meals like clockwork. Although Clare didn't try to force-feed her anymore, she still hang around the room, reading her books and wouldn't leave until the Duchess finished her food. With great disdain, Violet thought she had seen enough of that woman. But there were random flashbacks brought on by the memory of Clare in her swimsuit lurking around in Violet's mind. Despite being intoxicated, overworked, and sick, her memory was still sharp. She remembered being lifted out of the poolside like a drowned kitten. She could still feel Clare's lips on her own and her breath rushing down her throat to her lungs. The act was just too intimate for her comfor
The smell of chlorine clogged her senses. Everything around Clare was a blur of limbs and bubbles. But she managed to kick her feet to push herself back to the surface. The water stung her eyes, and she let out a cough. Clare swam to the edge of the pool and hoisted herself up. She wiped the water off her face. This was such a ridiculous thing to happen when all she wanted was some peace and quiet. Violet had to come and make everything difficult for her.But it was then that she realized that she was alone, and Violet was nowhere in sight. Clare's thoughs stopped. She then looked back
Violet was positive that this long-drawn meeting was going to ruin not just her spine but also her sanity. The squeaking sound of leathered chairs continued to irritate her, but she remained seated in silence.After weeks of organized chaos, Violet still found herself dealing with endless herds of strangers. She was sick of them floating around in their crisp fancy three-piece suits, murmuring like wasps. This particular group had got to be the last one she had to face or else she would have to temporarily move out of her own house....
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