Rominic's ViewpointI ran a weary hand through my hair, a heavy sigh escaping my lips as I tried to focus on Stacy's frantic words. It was difficult to concentrate, my mind consumed by thoughts of my wife, who had locked herself away in her room and refused to come out.It had been five days since the article detailing her previous lifestyle had been uploaded to the media. The article did not paint her in a negative light; rather, it portrayed her as a saint, emphasizing the struggles and pain she had endured in order to care for our children. It also revealed the truth behind her purported "fake death." If anything, the article had succeeded in casting me as the cruel, heartless bastard I truly was. It seemed aimed at utterly destroying my reputation, tearing down the image I had worked so hard to cultivate.With such a damning article now public, my business and family were under critical attack. The article did not hide the awareness of my family and friends but lied about them sta
I walked into the house absentmindedly, my fingers deftly unfastening the buttons of my shirt. I still felt overwhelmed by the crushing weight of grief and guilt, to the point where simply breathing was becoming a painful effort. But unlike before, I now had a clear purpose in mind, and that was exactly what I intended to pursue."You're back," a soft voice stopped me in my tracks. I looked down to see my daughter, Serenity, standing before me, clutching her favorite stuffed toy. Her eyes were deep and teary, with dark circles beneath them, yet they were filled with a glimmer of expectation as she gazed up at me."Daddy, did you get a call from Miss Beira?" she asked.Realization dawned on me then. She had been the one to call Beira. I should have guessed as much, since she was the only one who had accompanied Lavender to her therapy sessions in the early weeks."Mrs.," I corrected gently, "and yes, I did.""I asked her to check on you because you seem to be losing your mind," Serenit
I gnawed on my thumb anxiously, my gaze glued to the screen of my phone as I scrolled through the comments on a shared post concerning me. The comments were a mixed bag, most of the negative ones condemning me for going back to Rominic, who had, in their eyes, ruined my life. Many fiercely insulted me for my supposed immorality, claiming there was always a way out without resorting to using my body.I pulled my thumb from my mouth and glared at the phone. "What do they know? It's not like they've been in my situation," I muttered, then returned my thumb to its comforting haven between my teeth. They had no idea what I'd been through, so who were they to judge? Some people even commented on my foolishness for believing someone out of my league could love me, shaming me for being a gold digger and getting what I deserved.My anxiety ratcheted up a notch. I was never after Rominic's money, maybe his fame, but not his wealth. I'm not a gold digger. I never was, and I never will be. 'Is th
"First of all, you're not a gold digger," Anna said firmly, her voice laced with fierce protectiveness. "So don't ever think you are. And even if you are, so fucking what? You were with him for almost three years, you dated him, slept with him, and even bore him five children all at once. Let's not forget you raised them until now. So what if you came back because of his wealth? You deserve that and much more. Don't let those jealous fools get to you," she finished, her gaze unwavering."And he took your wealth from you," Gael added, his voice low and filled with a quiet anger."The wealth was never hers to begin with. She foolishly handed it to her father – ow!" Ferris cried out, clutching his leg as Elias gave him a swift kick to shut him up. Ferris really had enough of me. He never tried to mince his words anymore. As much as I appreciated his honesty, it still stung."And out of his league? Who the bloody hell do they think they are?!" Suzanne hissed, angrily picking up a cushion
Eyes filled with resentment and anger stared straight at the TV, the screen a stark contrast to the storm brewing within. The sound of teeth grinding echoed in the background, a rhythmic clicking that punctuated the heavy silence of the living room. The TV was muted, the only sounds were the woman's ragged breaths and the insistent grinding of her teeth.The blue-eyed woman, her face contorted in a mask of fury, bit into her fingernails, drawing blood. Her other hand, clenched into a fist, dug into her thigh, her fingers leaving white marks on the soft leather of the sofa. Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor, a metronome marking the passage of time, each beat a reminder of her failure. She couldn't believe it. Her carefully laid out plan, her perfect plan, destroyed by a single, insignificant boy.It hadn't taken much to concoct the new plan, but gathering the information, the pieces she needed to put it into motion, had been a challenge. She had hoped it would yield a considerat
I gazed out the window, watching the scene unfold below. Serenity danced gracefully in the pool, her movements captured by Zyaire's camera. Savia sat nearby, her laptop open as she stole glances at the pair, a pensive look on her face. Zayne, lost in his own world, brushed paint across a canvas, immortalizing the moment.I sighed heavily, tearing my gaze from the lively scene. Lifting my eyes to the bright, cloudless sky, I felt the weight of the day's boredom press down upon me. Thoughts, unwelcome but persistent, began to ease their way into my mind. I fought to push them back, but the deepest ones refused to be silenced.My mind raced, grappling with the question of how I would move forward from this point. Returning to work under Rominic was no longer an option. Though I knew I had done nothing wrong, the thought of facing the inevitable stares and whispers from my colleagues filled me with dread. Even if they dared not speak out of fear of their boss, my husband, I couldn't bear
I preened in front of the mirror, my eyes critically examining the elegant dress that clung to my figure. The fit-and-flare skater dress featured long sleeves and a round neckline, creating a classic, feminine silhouette. The bold color scheme of black and white provided a striking visual contrast, drawing the eye inward.The pattern of the dress was particularly captivating, with vertical stripes that followed the contours of the bodice before fanning out along the skirt. The stripes were punctuated by delicate, crochet-inspired detailing, adding a touch of visual interest and depth to the design. This dynamic pattern created an almost optical illusion effect, lending a sense of movement and energy to the garment.The hemline of the skirt fell just above my knees, striking a balance between elegance and practicality."Hmm," I mused, stroking my chin thoughtfully. As I evaluated the dress from various angles, I couldn't help but feel that it was better suited for non-work related occa
As Mr. Wolfman led me to my office, he paused to introduce me to my new secretary, Olive. I was immediately struck by her warm and friendly demeanor — there was no hint of the typical stiffness one might expect from a corporate employee. "Olive is my niece," Wolfman shared, a note of pride in his voice. "I handpicked her to assist you, knowing she would be a perfect fit." Olive offered me a bright smile, and I couldn't help but feel at ease in her presence.Once settled in my office, I dove into reviewing the sales ledgers and financial records, meticulously combing through the data. Something caught my eye — a discrepancy in the recent sales accounts that didn't quite add up. I brought it to Wolfman's attention, but the managing director seemed unfazed, and unperturbed by the issue.However, my instincts, honed through years of working under my father, told me there was more to this than meets the eye. As soon as Wolfman left to prepare for the team presentation, I summoned Olive to
Lavender stood in the dimly lit living room, her nerves fraying with every passing second. The soft glow of the overhead light bathed the space in warm hues, but it did little to soothe the tension crackling in the air. Rominic was pacing, his creamy blonde hair disheveled, winter-gray eyes stormy as they pinned her in place. He wasn't speaking yet, but his silence was worse than yelling. It was the kind of silence that suffocated, pressing down on her chest like an unseen weight.She laughed nervously, the sound brittle as it broke the stillness. "It's not what you're thinking," she said, her voice softer than she intended. "I swear, Rominic, it's not.”His eyes flickered, sharp and unyielding, and she could feel his temper bubbling just beneath the surface. The faint ticking of his wall clock was the only other sound in the room, an infuriating reminder of how slowly time seemed to move in moments like these.Lavender inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. Her cinnamon-brown hair
Apollo's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, sharp and unrelenting. "You alone could've prevented everything, but you chose not to. That's exactly why I despised you. None of you deserve him.""True," I whispered, my voice trembling but steady enough to hold the weight of my resolve. "I don't deserve him." I lifted my gaze to meet his, my expression calm despite the storm raging inside me. A soft, bitter smile curved my lips. "But neither does he deserve me."For a moment, Apollo's sneer faltered, his sharp retort caught in his throat. I turned away before he could recover, the silence between us broken only by the muffled sounds from outside and the deafening beat of my own heart.The room was still thick with the lingering stench of sweat and mildew, but somehow, the suffocating weight of the earlier confrontation had begun to lift. The muffled groans and rhythmic thumping from the other side of the door persisted, but I could almost tune them out now. Apollo leaned back agains
"Useless," I muttered, shaking my head and leaning further into the armrest of the sofa. The fabric felt damp, and I shifted again, trying to touch as little of it as possible.Apollo leaned back against the wall, his legs stretched out and his arms crossed over his chest. He looked as though he were perfectly comfortable, but I knew better. He thrived on tension, and this situation was no different. A heavy silence settled between us, but it was far from peaceful. The noises from outside—the cries, the moans, the unmistakable sound of a furniture slamming against a wall—filled the void like an unwelcome guest."You've changed," Apollo finally said, his voice cutting through the cacophony. I turned to him, my expression flat and unimpressed. "What?" "What you did out there…" he trailed off, his tone strangely contemplative, though the familiar edge of derision lingered."I don't see anything wrong with seducing my husband," I replied sharply, emphasizing the word ‘husband' with veno
You know how sometimes things don't go as planned? Well, my situation was one of those.At first, everything seemed to be going perfectly. I had managed to get under Apollo's skin so effectively that he stormed off, his face tight with fury. Victory tasted sweet—at least for a fleeting moment. With him out of the picture, Rominic was mine, entirely mine. We flirted, trading sharp smiles and lingering glances that set my skin ablaze. We kissed, his hands firm yet teasing, and for a brief while, the club's chaotic energy seemed to fade into the background. Then, as if the universe couldn't let me revel for too long, Lilith and a group of men I'd pointed out started brawling. Rominic and Phineas stepped in, practically dragging them apart before things got bloody. They saved lives; I mostly tried not to get crushed.And somehow—still baffling to me—I ended up here. In the mixed-gender restroom. With Apollo.Let me clarify: calling it a “restroom” was a cruel joke. There wasn't a toilet i
The bass-heavy music from the club reverberated through the walls as I stepped inside, the heavy scent of alcohol, sweat, and expensive cologne hitting me instantly. The lights pulsed in rhythmic patterns, casting shadows that danced across the crowded floor. Bodies moved in sync with the music, a chaotic symphony of energy and decadence.Beside me, Lilith was in her element. Her barely-there silver dress sparkled under the strobe lights, the hem so short it was a miracle it managed to cover her at all. She sauntered forward, her electric-blue eyes scanning the room with the eagerness of a predator sizing up its prey."Isn't this fun?" she chirped, her voice loud enough to cut through the music.I smirked at her. "You're certainly having the time of your life, Mrs. Zǐmò." I say, intentionally reminding her about who's she married to and the possibility of him destroying this club if any man should lay their hands on her.Lilith shot me a wink—ignoring me—before sashaying ahead, her dy
I sat cross-legged on the bed, my laptop balanced precariously on my knees as the soft hum of its fan filled the room. The faint scent of sweet peas lingered in the air from the diffuser on the nightstand, mingling with the faint aroma of vanilla shampoo from Savia and Serenity's braiding session.Lilith sprawled on her stomach on the other end of the bed, her dyed pink hair spilling over her shoulders as she kicked her legs lazily in the air. Her electric blue eyes gleamed with mischief as she rambled on and on about her latest escapade in the digital world."So, there I was," Lilith began, her voice animated, "watching this idiot try to bypass a firewall that I set up in, like, ten seconds. And guess what? The guy thought using a brute-force algorithm would work. Can you believe that? Brute force! In this times! What is he, a caveman?"Zachary, seated on the floor beside the bed, leaned forward with an intrigued expression. "Wait, what kind of firewall? Was it encrypted with—""Trip
As she scurried away, still visibly dazed, Apollo watched her go with a satisfied grin. "Too easy," he murmured under his breath as he took a seat beside Phineas."You ever get tired?" I asked with irritation.Apollo shrugged, brushing his long hair over his shoulder. "Of what? Being this irresistible? Never."Phineas snorted, picking his phone back up.Apollo leaned back in his chair, the dim light catching the faint shimmer in his silver eyes. His smirk returned, sharper now, almost taunting. "You know," he said, his tone taking on a biting edge, "you're wasting your godly features on Lavender."My grip tightened around the glass in my hand, the faint creak of the strain barely audible over the music. "Careful," I said, my voice low and firm, each word deliberate. "Lavender is my wife, and you'll show her respect."His smirk faltered for just a moment, his eyes flickering with something I couldn't quite place—was it irritation? Jealousy? But just as quickly, he scoffed, looking away
Rominic's POVThe music hit me the moment I walked into the club, a pulsing bass that vibrated through my chest and resonated with the faint buzz of the conversations around us. Strobe lights flickered in neon greens and purples, casting fragmented shadows across the packed dance floor. The air smelled of a heady mix of alcohol, sweat, and the faint sweetness of spilled cocktails.Phineas was walking ahead of me, running his fingers through his recently dyed reddish-blonde hair. He looked back with a playful grin, his sky-blue eyes gleaming under the ever-changing lights."You could have warned me you were dragging me into this circus," I muttered, adjusting my cufflinks and glancing down at my wristwatch—a Patek Philippe with a sleek platinum finish and a blue enamel dial. A gift from Lavender."It's called spontaneity, Nic," Phineas replied, his voice cheerful over the thumping beat. "And we both know Apollo couldn't shut up about it. He wouldn't have let us off the hook."My gaze d
Lavender's POVI sat curled on the plush armchair in the living room, the soft hum of background music barely registering in my ears. My phone was in my hand, the screen glowing with an all-too-familiar face staring back at me. The article on Apollo was everywhere, plastered across every major news outlet.I scrolled through it begrudgingly, my thumb moving slower than I wanted it to. Why am I even reading this? I thought bitterly, glaring at his perfectly curated image.Apollo Dean Stine. Even his name sounded ridiculous. The man wore charm like armor, his bright silver eyes twinkling with a cheerfulness I could only describe as infuriating. They had a strange quality to them, shifting colors subtly with different lighting. People always gushed about how unique and mesmerizing they were, but to me, they were nothing short of absurd."Who in the world has stupid eyes like that?" I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.I scrolled further, my eyes catching on his recent look. He'd