For a brief moment, neither of us speaks. Our eyes meet in shared surprise. Outside, I can hear muffled voices, quick and urgent, as the driver exchanges words with my security team. “What the hell was that?” Desiree asks.“I’m not sure,” I reply, all traces of flirtation gone. My instincts sharpen, the protective side of me kicking in. I don’t like surprises, especially not when I’m with her. “Stay here.” She narrows her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing, Caspian?”“Making sure everything’s fine.” I reach for the door handle, but she grabs my arm, her grip firm.“Oh no, you don’t,” she says. “You’re not leaving me alone in this car like some damsel in distress.”I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips. “You think you can handle what’s out there, Desiree?”“I think I can handle you, and that’s scarier than anything waiting outside.”She’s serious, and I can see the determination in her eyes.“Fine,” I relent, though I don’t like the idea of her stepping into uncertainty. “B
Desiree's POVI think someone needs to pinch me. Because this is a dream. It has to be a dream. Yesterday, I was just an ordinary girl, doing ordinary things and barely scraping by. Today, I’m cashing million-dollar checks, riding with a billionaire's entourage, saying yes to a contract marriage, and casually picking out wedding rings at Tiffany & Co. Who am I?Caspian’s hand rests on the small of my back as we enter, his guards moving into formation around us, like we’re royalty or something. “Good day, Mr. Hart,” a short, impeccably dressed man greets us with a smile, bowing slightly, as if he’s been waiting all day just for this. “Right this way, please.” He doesn’t hesitate; he already knows where to lead us. I blink, trying to make sense of it. I’ve been by Caspian’s side since he proposed. Not once did I see him make a call, send a text, or give any instructions. So how is everyone doing exactly what he wants them to do without instructions?Wait…“Caspian,” I say, “did you s
Our entourage pulls up to the marriage registry, and as we’re about to step out, it hits me—shotgun weddings have requirements, right?“Caspian,” I call out, hesitant, “I don’t think it’s possible to get married right now.”Caspian freezes. He was just about to press the button to alert his security detail that we're coming out. But now, those fingers have left the button and are now massaging his forehead, as though he has a headache.“Desiree,” he says, voice low and a little strained, “don’t back out on me now.”“Back out? What are you talking about?”He drops his hand from his forehead and moves closer, resting his palms on my lap. “I understand that seeing the building of the registry can be unnerving. But I’m here, my cherry. I'm with you every step of the way. You have no idea how much it means to me that you agreed to this. For the first time in a long while, I feel like I have someone on my side—someone who understands me. Yes, it might be a contract, but I still consider you
“No, Caspian,” I say for what feels like the hundredth time. “I’m not moving in with you.”He sighs. “You’re my wife now. What kind of wife lives in a separate house from her husband?”We’ve been going back and forth like this since we left the registry. The moment we got into the car, Caspian gave instructions for us to be driven home. But it didn’t take long for me to realize that the route we’re taking isn’t leading to my house. In fact, every passing street looks less and less familiar. The buildings outside blur together as I rack my brain, trying to figure out where he’s taking me. “Where are we going?” I asked, suspicion creeping into my voice.“Home,” he replied with that maddening calmness of his.“This isn’t the way to my house.”“No,” he agreed, not even looking phased. “It’s the way to your new home.”That conversation was minutes ago, and I’m still not in the mood to give in. I get it—we just got married, and usually, that means sharing a house, building a life together
Caspian's POVI'm a happy man. For the first time in forty-three years, I feel like I’m actually living. Desiree has made me realize that I've been unhappy all my life. I thought contentment was something I could buy, something I could control with power, money, and influence. But it turns out, happiness is more elusive than any of that—it’s found in the most unexpected places, like in the fire of a woman who challenges me at every turn.I watch her as she taps away at her phone, her brow furrowed in frustration as she tries to reach her best friend. She’s been dialing Jessica’s number for the past few minutes, and each time it goes straight to voicemail. The more it happens, the more her expression hardens, like she’s preparing for the worst. “Still nothing?” I ask, though I already know the answer.She shakes her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s weird. Jess never ignores my calls like this. Especially not after I tell her it’s important.” She punches in the number ag
The faint scent of something spicy fills the air. As Desiree flicks on the light switch, the scene that greets us in the living room is unexpected, to say the least. There, in front of the kitchen counter, a petite woman is swaying to a rhythm only she can hear, her back turned to us. Earbuds are snugly tucked into her ears, and she’s completely lost in her own world, stirring a pot of what looks like instant ramen while performing an energetic little dance.I glance at Desiree, raising an eyebrow. “I’m guessing that’s the infamous Jessica?”“Yeah, that’s her. Always a one-woman show.”Jessica spins around. Her eyes widen when she spots us standing in the doorway, and she nearly drops the wooden spoon in her hand. She yanks the earbuds out, blinking rapidly.“Desiree!” she squeals. “I didn’t hear you come in.”Desiree steps forward, hands on her hips. “I’ve been trying to call you for ages! You didn’t pick up, so I thought you’d disappeared on me or something.”Jessica waves a dismis
From the living room, I can hear Desiree and Jessica’s voices drifting through the half-closed door. They’re gossiping like high schoolers at a sleepover, and I can’t help but smile.“Oh my God, Dee, this is insane! You marry Caspian Hart out of nowhere, and then just casually show up in my kitchen like it’s no big deal? He’s so handsome. Like, really handsome. Is there a ring? Tell me there's a ring!”Desiree laughs and tries to hush her, but it’s no use. “Yes, there’s a ring, Jess. It’s Tiffany, of course.”I can practically hear Jessica’s gasp of delight. “Let me see it! You didn’t even think to show me before dropping the bombshell? Priorities, Dee!”“I was a little preoccupied with getting married!”Jessica’s voice drops slightly, becoming more serious. “But, Dee, what are you doing? You really married him? Like, for real?”There’s a pause, and I lean forward slightly, curious to hear Desiree’s response. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer. “I know it sounds crazy. It is
Desiree's POVCaspian is unusually quiet as we drive home. Home. Oh God, I’m already thinking of it as home. The reality sinks in, and it’s both dizzying and absurd. Everything happened so fast—the impulsive wedding, the whirlwind of emotions. But now, with the pace slowing down, I have the space to really process it, and it’s crazy. I’m sitting in my ex’s dad’s car, wearing a ring, married to him, and heading to a place I’ve never seen but now somehow belongs to both of us. And here’s the wildest part—I want him. I want him more than I should, more than makes sense.“Caspian,” I say, “how much longer?”He turns to me with a smirk. “Welcome back to life, Cherry. I thought you’d left me.”“Me? You were the one staring out the window, all brooding and mysterious.”“That’s because I was starting to think you were regretting this.” His voice drops, taking on that deep, velvety tone he uses when he’s trying to probe my feelings without coming right out and asking.I raise an eyebrow. “Reg
I nod, my throat tight. “You better be.” The doors to the delivery room swing open, and suddenly, I’m surrounded by bright lights, the sterile smell of antiseptic, and the calm, authoritative voices of nurses. My mind is racing. My body, however, is focused on one thing: the relentless, excruciating contractions that feel like my insides are being wrung out like a soaked towel. “Breathe, Desiree. You’ve got this,” a nurse says, guiding me onto the bed. Caspian bursts through the door moments later, his hair disheveled, his suit jacket gone, and his sleeves rolled up. He looks like a man ready for battle. And, honestly, that’s what this feels like. “I’m here,” he says, taking my hand again. His grip is warm, solid, a lifeline in this sea of chaos. I glare at him through the pain. “You did this to me.” He leans down, brushing a kiss against my sweaty forehead. “I know, baby. And you’re doing amazing.” “Amazing? I feel like I’m being ripped in half!” I shout, my voice cracking wit
~~Months later~~ My best friend, Jessica, decided to organise a baby shower for me. She rented a penthouse. I know Caspian's involved in this. Who else is paying for the penthouse? The penthouse is everything Jessica promised and more—sleek marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows with a panoramic view of the city, and enough floral arrangements to make a florist weep. There’s an extravagant dessert table with a towering cake. And, of course, the unmistakable Caspian touch—a champagne fountain. I take it all in, my eyes narrowing suspiciously as I glance at Jessica, who’s currently trying to pass off the event as “modest.” Modest my ass. “You’re sure this wasn’t Caspian’s idea?” Jessica flashes her most innocent smile, which is about as believable as a politician’s promise. “I mean, he may have helped. But you deserve this! Come on, Dee, when was the last time we celebrated you?” I snort, adjusting the sash draped across my belly that reads Mom-to-Be. “You mean besides the
Desiree's POVWe're at a press conference.Cameras flash like lights at a club, and the buzz of reporters fills the air like a swarm of relentless bees. I hate it. Every second of it. But I stand tall, my hand resting in Caspian’s, my knuckles white from the grip. He doesn’t seem fazed—his jaw set, his eyes gleaming. He’s in his element.Me? I’m a bundle of nerves hiding behind a tailored dress and a painted-on smile.The tension in the room is obvious. Every gaze is pinned on us, every microphone is pointed in our direction. There’s no escaping it.Caspian steps forward, adjusting the microphone. His presence is magnetic. Commanding. He could announce the end of the world, and people would believe it was for their own good.He clears his throat, and the room falls silent.“For weeks now, CypherEdge Dynamics has been under siege,” he begins. “An individual named Mabel Blackwood infiltrated our company. She blackmailed board members, manipulated shareholders, and attempted to undermine
“Mr. Hart,” Aaron’s voice oozes through the line, smug and infuriating. “I trust you’ve been thinking about my offer.”“More like thinking about how to kill you,” I mutter under my breath, then louder: “I’ve considered it. But I need proof Desiree is alive. Now.”A pause. Then, Desiree’s voice, faint but there. “Caspian, please…”It takes everything in me not to lose it. “I’m here, Desiree. Hold on.”Aaron returns. “Satisfied?”“Barely,” I say. “You’ll get what you want. But not a second before I see her safe.”“Fine,” Aaron agrees. “Bring the drives to the location we’ll send you. Alone. And no tricks, Hart. Or she dies.”The line goes dead.Antonio is already moving, giving quick commands into his headset. “They’ll never see us coming,” he promises.I grip the phone. “They’d better not.”Because if they do, I’ll burn the entire city down before I let them take her away from me.---I park a block away from the designated warehouse, my pulse thudding in my ears. I sit there for a mom
The tone sends a chill down my spine. Calm, too calm, like this is a business deal and not—“Where is she?” I say. “If you’ve touched her—”“Tsk, tsk,” the man interrupts, almost amused. “Let’s not start with threats. You’re not in a position to make them.”I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles white. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”“Don’t I? Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Hart. Ruthless. Powerful. But none of that matters here.”My free hand balls into a fist at my side. “What do you want?”Finally, he gets to the point. “You’re going to deliver something to me. Two things, actually. First, the drives you took from Mabel’s mother’s house.”My mind races. How does he know about those?“And second,” he continues, “your shares in the company. Sign them over. All of them.”I laugh, sharp and humorless. “You think I’ll just hand those over? Do you know what they’re worth?”“Oh, I know exactly what they’re worth.” His voice drops. “I also know what she’s worth to you.”The a
Caspian's POVIt’s been over two hours since Desiree disappeared, and the hospital has called the police against my wishes.I’m pacing the waiting room like a caged animal, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead doing nothing to quell the pounding in my skull. Every passing second feels like an eternity, a loud and unrelenting reminder that she’s not here, that I don’t know where she is, that I failed to protect her.“Mr. Hart,” one of the officers starts, her voice too calm, too measured, like she’s asking about a lost cat. “Let’s go over this again. You’re sure your wife didn’t… leave voluntarily?”My fist clenches so hard my knuckles crack. I whip around, staring at her like she’s grown a second head.“Voluntarily?” The word leaves my mouth dripping with venom. “You think she just decided to disappear in the middle of a goddamn ultrasound?”The other officer, a man with a face so nondescript I could forget it in seconds, clears his throat. “We’re just trying to establish all possi
Desiree’s POVI wake up feeling like my head has been split in two.Pain radiates from the back of my skull, throbbing with every heartbeat. My mouth feels like I’ve swallowed sand, and the metallic tang of blood lingers on my tongue. I try to move, but my arms won’t budge. Cold metal digs into my wrists, and the sharp edge of panic slices through the fog clouding my mind.“Welcome back.”The voice is smooth, almost polite, but it sends a chill racing down my spine. I force my eyes open, blinking against the dim light until the blurry figure in front of me sharpens into focus.Aaron.He leans casually against a table, his arms crossed, a smug grin stretched across his face. He looks like a villain from one of those old spy movies—too polished, too composed, too damn pleased with himself.“What the hell,” I croak, my voice raspy. “What is this, amateur hour? I thought kidnappers were supposed to wear masks.”He chuckles, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring my sarcasm. “You’re in go
Caspian's POVDesiree has been gone for too long.I glance at the clock on the wall, tapping my fingers on the armrest of the chair in rhythm with my heartbeat, which is getting louder and faster with every passing second. Maybe I’m being paranoid. Maybe this is one of those “pregnancy bladder” situations everyone warned me about. But how long does it take a pregnant woman to pee? Five minutes? Ten? I’ve lost track of time, but it feels like hours.I shift in my chair, trying to shake off the gnawing sense of unease creeping up my spine. The ultrasound pictures are still in my hand, slightly crumpled from where my grip has tightened.“She’s fine,” I mutter to myself. “She’s fine.”But the words don’t stick.Standing abruptly, I glance toward the hallway leading to the bathroom. The corridor feels longer than I remember, its sterile walls closing in like they’re mocking me. Every instinct in me screams that something isn’t right.Dr. William steps out of an adjacent room, looking surpr
Dr. William turns to us, his smile widening. “It’s a girl.”For a moment, the world stops. A girl. We’re having a daughter.“A girl,” I repeat, the words tasting foreign and magical on my tongue. Tears spill over before I can stop them, and I press a hand to my mouth, overcome with emotion.Caspian is silent beside me, his gaze fixed on the monitor. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, as if he’s struggling to keep his own emotions in check. “A girl,” he echoes. Then, with a soft laugh, he adds, “God help her if she inherits your stubbornness.”“Excuse me?” I glare at him, though the tears streaming down my face probably ruin the effect. “She’s going to be the perfect combination of both of us, thank you very much.”“Let’s hope she leans more toward your good looks than my temper.”“Let’s hope she doesn’t inherit your ego,” I shoot back, though my voice is choked with laughter.Dr. William chuckles, stepping back to give us a moment. “I’ll print out some pictures for you two. T