A week had passed since the disaster at the bridal shop, and my wicked stepmother hadn't stopped pestering me for the name of my supposed fiance. But all I'd gotten from that infamous dating app were twenty dick pics, five offers for casual sex, and countless hours of frustration. I had no one to take to that party.I pulled at my hair, desperate and stressed. These emotions were so overwhelming that I realized I had yanked out a strand of hair, and I stared at it with the urge to cry."I'm worried about you. I mean it," Jenna said, sitting beside me in my cubicle. She handed me a coffee. "A mocha, to whet your appetite so we can go have lunch like the rest of the floor."It was lunchtime, and there was only one colleague in the private video conference booth at the end of the hall. I focused on my computer."I'm not hungry. I need to find a man for tonight," I told my friend."Still on that? Aren't you busy with our project?""I'm juggling both. Tomorrow I have a meeting with ou
"Nothing. I'm going to the equestrian club. It's Amanda's engagement dinner," I explained."What are you planning to sabotage this time? Don't tell me you've given up—that would be so boring of you."I looked at him, pressing my tongue against my cheek. I felt ridiculed and mocked, but there was no lower point for me to reach. If he wanted drama, I'd give him drama."I'll show up with an attractive fiance who will act like I'm the most charming woman in the world and make me appear sane, Mr. Brown," I bragged.I could see the smile in Lucius's eyes as he drove. The breeze tousling his hair made him even more irresistible."Did you blackmail this one too?" he joked cruelly."No, I paid him in advance," I retorted without guilt.He looked astonished, then burst into laughter. I didn't find it funny that he found this madness amusing. A woman had to do what she had to do. I clutched my purse to keep from blushing at the absurdity of what I had just said, keeping my head high."A w
Amelia was the name of my detestable stepmother. But I loathed her name so much that I tried not to remember it. It was the name my mother used to repeat incessantly when she was ill, blaming her for the destruction of her marriage. Even as a child, I understood that my father was more to blame for my mother's suffering than his mistress. Yet, my mother was fixated on blaming her. Amelia, that homewrecker. Amelia, that foreign tramp.Her name was like that of a ghost I preferred not to summon. And now, though she was a ghost to me, her reaction to Lucius was unsettling. It was like he was her ghost."Amelia," my father discreetly reprimanded his wife. "That's not an appropriate question to ask my successor.""What do you mean, your successor?" she asked, horrified, turning to Serge. "You never mentioned that.""Since when have you cared about the names of my business partners, woman?" he replied disdainfully, then turned to us. "Did you exchange words when he came to our house to c
"Don't be rude, Andrew. He's my guest. He came with me," I informed him, trying to keep him in check."He's your boss. He doesn't need to come with you anywhere," Andrew snapped, barely containing his anger.I rolled my eyes and walked past him."Don't be ridiculous. Control yourself," I whispered as I passed by.I took my seat at the long table where they directed me, and Lucius sat next to me. The table was filled with guests, including my father's wife a few seats away, and the engaged couple further down. I thanked the heavens that I didn't have to sit directly across from or next to any of those pests."Your sister's future husband is a pervert. He wants to get into your bed the moment you turn your back," Lucius whispered in my ear.Hearing his voice so close sent pleasant shivers through my body. I wasn't sure if it was the mojitos or the white wine I was sipping that made me feel so light and warm."Like you?" I teased playfully. "It's a shame both of you will be left wa
A stepmother on the floor, an apparent boyfriend who came out of nowhere, and more alcohol in my system than I should have. That's the summary of the scene I was living through at that moment. With Amelia passed out, Serge wasted no time in reacting. My father carried her in his arms, while Amanda followed behind, shouting in alarm. My ex-fiance shot me a dirty look before following after his future family."Do you think the witch is dead?" I asked Lucius."I don't think so. The grass must have cushioned her fall," he replied as we watched the guests gather at the tent where they had taken her. "And witches never die.""Just like liars. Why did you tell them you were my partner? Did the mojitos get to your head or what?" I asked, confused and stepping away from him."Maybe," he said, eyeing my purse. I snatched it from his hands.I didn't trust Lucius. I had no idea what he was planning or why he thought it was a good idea to be with me right now. There was a commotion around Amel
We left the room and walked to his car in silence. We got in, still silent."What was that? What are you planning to do with me?" I asked, bewildered."For now, I'll take you to get some real food," he decided, starting the car, as cool as a cucumber.-The "real food" Lucius referred to was this glorious cheeseburger I was biting into. My hands were messy with all the sauces I had added. He was in the same state, focusing on the fries on our little table.We must have looked like quite the sight—dressed as if we'd just come from a black-tie event, yet sitting beside a street burger stand. There were few customers around, each minding their own business, so no one paid us much attention. Lucius had left his jacket in the car, and I had tied my hair up in a messy bun to keep it clean."I told you I'd bring you somewhere with real food," he boasted."Careful, a nutritionist might hear you and scold you," I replied, though I couldn't deny the burger was delicious. "They must've wan
Being a real estate agent for a project as grand as the New Century Project required qualities like eloquence, distinction, elegance, and sharpness. The truth was that I, Marianne Fairmount, only pretended that these traits were part of my identity while selling properties to make ends meet. Otherwise, I wouldn't bother maintaining a different personality in front of a client.But there was a stark difference between my "work self" and my "normal self." The former required concentration, rest, and assertiveness—things I felt I was struggling to muster during this tour of the partially constructed mall."When will the project be completed?" Ernest, one of the secretaries of the businessman who was a potential buyer, asked. His boss couldn't attend in person due to his schedule."We expect to finish by the end of the second quarter of the year. As you can see, we're currently ahead of schedule," I explained as we walked through the white-walled structure.Ernest took several photos a
"It's true that you can work under pressure. You don't disappoint, Marianne.""In the long run, you get used to meeting irrational expectations. It's the primary requirement for our client profile," I explained as we both got into the elevator. I pressed the button to go up."Irrational… I like that word," he said, stroking his chin.I glanced at him, narrowing my eyes. I couldn't lose my patience with my boss, owner, and supposed fiance. The doors opened quickly, and we stepped onto the second-to-last floor. I took the property keys out of my jacket, and we entered.The apartment was a dream. It had been decorated by a famous interior designer in the city, had plenty of space, and was up to the standard of a millionaire like Lucius. I recited its features aloud."Four bedrooms, each with its own private bathroom. A spacious living and dining area with a privileged view of the sea," I explained. "The kitchen is any food lover's dream. All the appliances are new. It's been recently
Emma White's P.O.V.The chaos in the auditorium was absolute—shouts, people running in all directions, and sheer panic painted a scene of hell. My eyes stayed locked on Mark, who lay on the ground with blood smeared across his face. I couldn't move, paralyzed by shock and confusion."Get down! Don't just stand there," Lawrence urged, pulling me to a crouch.Obediently, I dropped low, realizing we weren't the only ones doing so. Others had also taken cover, waiting for the madness to subside. Though the gunshots had ceased, the frenzy hadn't. I couldn't get a clear view of how badly Mark was hurt—his security team had dragged him behind the podium."What just happened?" I asked Lawrence breathlessly."Whatever it was, it wasn't fatal," he replied, his eyes scanning the stage.From my crouched position, I saw Mark rising to his feet, ignoring his guards' insistence to stay down. My mother suddenly bolted from her seat, rushing to the stage the moment she spotted him. Her face was e
"What's more humiliating than being left alone during the debate? That was the plan—to show everyone that neither his wife nor daughter supports him after his scandals, emphasizing the danger he represents," Lawrence argued."I have to go. I'm sorry, but it's something I need to do. What's your take?" I pressed, glancing at the others.In the end, we agreed Lawrence would accompany me with his security team, Jason would be nearby to help extract my mother if necessary, and Sara offered to provoke Mark by visibly supporting Isabelle Silver.Oddly enough, Lawrence scolded Sara, telling her to stop meddling and stay with her parents that afternoon. Even more strangely, Sara didn't argue. Instead, she pouted and quietly placed her hand over her stomach in a... peculiar way.Was it just me, or did she have a bit of a belly?-All the progress I'd made in the days away from Mark seemed to crumble the moment we arrived at the auditorium for the candidates' debate. Seeing his face on the
"With you... I'd want everything."I smiled like a love-struck fool, nibbling on my fruit as my heart melted. If there were ever going to be kids in our future, I had to be at my healthiest. Jason started talking about his morning routine, and I listened with the phone tucked against my shoulder as I continued preparing breakfast. But as I poured the batter onto the pan, it struck me how odd it was that my mom hadn't come out of her room yet."That's strange. My mom's still asleep," I said, glancing toward her door."Did you check to see if she might've stepped out?" Jason suggested gently."Why would she leave? We agreed neither of us would go anywhere... I'll check."I put the phone down for a moment and knocked on her door, calling out softly. There was no response. When I opened it, the room was empty—her bed neatly made, her shoes gone. My heart raced as my phone buzzed again, this time showing my mom's number. Picking it up, I quickly explained the situation to Jason and tol
Emma White's P.O.V.I woke up wrapped in an unexpected sense of peace. Despite the unfamiliar bed and the small, borrowed space, it was a kind of calm I'd never known before. Peace, as it turned out, wasn't something you could buy, no matter how much money you had.Life in Lawrence's apartment had been surprisingly pleasant. Each day felt a little brighter, a little safer. As I got up and made my way to the bathroom, I splashed my face with cool water, noticing with delight how much my skin had improved.By the time I reached the kitchen, I was in an unusually cheerful mood. Pancakes seemed like the perfect breakfast, so I opened the fridge to grab some pre-cut fruit—melons and papayas, today's choice. The sight of the neatly packed container brought a smile to my face. I plucked a piece of melon and popped it into my mouth. It was perfect.Setting the fruit on the counter, I gathered the rest of the ingredients: oatmeal, eggs, and milk. The clock on the microwave caught my attenti
"Have you forgotten that you're still engaged to Emma White? Because I certainly haven't," Lionel accused, his tone sharper than a blade."The repeated delays in the wedding should've given you a clue—it's not happening," Lawrence stated firmly."Then why is the engagement still active? Wouldn't it have been simpler to handle this in order? Or do you enjoy fueling the rumors about my daughter? You've turned her into your mistress," Lionel spat, his glare piercing.Lawrence visibly flinched at the accusation, guilt washing over him. He seemed lost for words, so I stepped in."Dad... are you really going to echo the same gossip as those busybodies? I already told you—there was never a real relationship between Emma and Lawrence. That engagement was arranged by their parents," I explained, trying to diffuse the tension."There was never anything between us," Lawrence added, his tone desperate for clarity. "Not emotionally, not physically. It was entirely a business arrangement."At
In my head, an apocalyptic soundtrack was playing; on my parents' faces, an apocalyptic expression was forming. My apartment had turned into the ninth circle of hell. From this moment on, everything spiraled out of control. Lawrence turned to face Lionel and Clara while I instinctively clung to his back, using him as a human shield."Sara Brown!" my dad bellowed."She's not here!" I shouted, clutching Lawrence so tightly my arms ached."What are you doing with that boy?!" my father roared.Still pressed against Lawrence, I could see him glance around the room, taking in the chaos of scattered clothing—including undergarments. And then, Lawrence did something unforgivable."Isn't it obvious, sir?" he said, calm as ever.Lawrence clearly wanted to watch the world burn, and my dad wasn't about to disappoint. He lunged toward us, but my mom intercepted him, wrapping her arms around his middle to stop a full-blown disaster. Meanwhile, I stayed glued to Lawrence's back, peeking out fro
"Because I just found out from Richard!" I exclaimed, watching Lawrence's brows lift in genuine surprise. "He said Emma is their half-sister, which officially makes Victoria the ultimate hypocrite. I mean, how was she planning to marry you off to the half-sister of your half-brothers? And I was supposed to be the 'incestuous' one because of her wild theory that you and I might be siblings?""Why would Richard tell you that?" Lawrence asked, his curiosity piqued.I looked at him with a mix of tenderness and pity. I knew that Lawrence had said back in that room that he didn't see Richard and Julian as brothers, but I also knew him better than anyone.Gently, I stroked his face. "Because deep down, those two brats care about you, and they still see you as their brother."He shook his head, unconvinced. "You heard them. All they care about is the money. I even offered to give them some before the will was read but they ignored me and kept coming at me. I'm done, Sara. Let them file wha
"Look at what you've done. You've been very naughty," I teased, grinning down at him."This has to be a dream..." Lawrence muttered, almost to himself."Oh, my God. Were you dreaming about knocking me up? You dirty pervert," I laughed, my tone light.This time, Lawrence didn't stay passive. With a firm grip on my hips, he flipped us over, pinning me beneath him. His lips crashed onto mine with a renewed hunger, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he thrust into me with such fervor that I knew exactly what was coming.And then it happened—a deep, guttural sound escaped him as he hit his climax, his release warm and consuming. The sensation of him filling me was exquisite, leaving me utterly satisfied. Or so I thought. Lawrence, ironically, didn't seem nearly as content."Damn it... I'm sorry," he muttered, frustrated."There's absolutely nothing to apologize for," I said, threading my fingers through his tousled hair. I grinned slyly. "That is... as long as you plan to make
My steps were frantic as I headed toward the parking lot. Lawrence was nowhere in sight, and the fear that he might’ve left in this state was gnawing at me. Not finding him in the elevator or the hallway only worsened my nerves. I made a beeline for my car, and my search came to an abrupt halt when I spotted him leaning against it, waiting for me. Relief washed over me.“So, this is where you’ve been,” I said, my voice heavy with thankfulness.“I wasn’t about to go far with you still in there,” he replied with a soft, melancholic smile—one that mirrored my own.“I’m prescribing you something,” I said in a mock professional tone.“And what exactly are you prescribing?” he asked, curious.“This,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. With his height, I had to tilt upward on my toes, but he didn’t hesitate for even a second, circling my waist with his arms and holding me like his life depended on it.“I need about a million of these,” he murmured