SARAHStorming down the hallway, I barely registered the maid who had escorted me. My mind was a whirlwind of anger and disbelief. Marco’s audacity was beyond anything I had ever encountered. First, he tried to seduce me, and then, without missing a beat, he demanded I accompany him to a party.When I finally reached my room, I slammed the door shut behind me, leaning against it to catch my breath. My skin still tingled from his touch, but the anger burning in my chest quickly overwhelmed any lingering sensation.“How dare he?” I muttered to myself, pacing the room. “How dare he think he can control me like that?”I glanced at the clock. I had a few hours before this supposed party, and the thought of seeing him again made my blood boil. I walked over to the window and looked out at the sprawling estate. The idea of playing his game made me sick, but I knew I couldn’t let him think he had won. Not this time.“No,” I whispered to myself, shaking my head. “I won’t let it go his way. I’l
SARAHWhen we arrived at the party, the first thing I noticed was the elegant atmosphere. The grand ballroom was adorned with glittering chandeliers, and the guests, all dressed in their finest attire, moved gracefully across the floor. The theme of the night was a masquerade, and as we walked in, a server handed us both ornate masks.I looked at my mask, a delicate creation with silver and blue feathers. I slipped it on, feeling a little more hidden, a little safer behind its cover. Marco’s mask was black and gold, giving him an even more intimidating presence.As we walked further into the party, I took in the scenery. The room was filled with opulence—rich, dark wood paneling, plush velvet drapes, and tables set with elaborate centerpieces. The music, a soft classical piece, added to the air of sophistication.Marco’s arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him. The possessiveness of the gesture made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to keep a neutral expression. He glan
SARAHAs I danced with the man, I kept glancing over his shoulder, trying to catch Marco’s eye. Each time I thought of Marco watching, a thrill ran through me. This was my way of getting back at him, of showing him that he couldn’t control me.The man I was dancing with was handsome and charming, but I barely registered his features. My mind was fixed on Marco. The music slowed down, shifting to a soft, romantic tune. My partner took this as a cue to pull me closer.“Come closer,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting.I cringed inwardly at the idea, but I steeled myself. I was determined to see this through. “Of course,” I said, moving closer to him, feeling his hands settle on my waist.I could just hope that Marco’s gaze was burning into us from across the room. I leaned into my partner, resting my head against his shoulder. It felt awkward, but I pushed through the discomfort, focusing on my goal. This was for Marco to see, to make him realize that I was not just a pawn in his ga
SARAHI couldn't believe what I had just heard. My heart raced, and I took a step back, glaring at Cain. "Don't you dare come any closer," I warned, my voice trembling slightly.He took a step forward, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "What are you going to do, Sarah?" he taunted. "Scream?"I kept moving back, my eyes darting around the room for any possible escape route. "Stay away from me, Cain," I demanded, my voice firmer this time.But he didn't stop. He kept moving closer and closer, his eyes darkening with every step. My back hit the wall, and I felt a cold sweat break out across my skin. "I will scream if you take one more step," I threatened, my voice rising in desperation.Cain laughed, a chilling sound that echoed off the walls. "Go ahead and scream," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "No one can hear you anyway."I could feel the panic rising in my chest, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. "Stay back," I repeated, my voice shaking. "I'm warning you."But
SARAHAs we walked out of the room, Marco’s arm firmly around my shoulders, we were suddenly confronted by Mr. Lemuel. He looked frantic and concerned, his eyes darting between Marco and me.“Marco please, I am so sorry about what happened. I promise you, I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Mr. Lemuel said, his voice trembling with genuine regret.Marco waved him off, his expression calm but firm. “It’s not your fault, Lemuel. There’s no need to apologize. But we’re leaving.”Lemuel looked desperate to make amends. “Please, Marco, stay a little longer. We can sort this out. You’re a valued guest, and I want to ensure your evening ends on a better note.”Marco shook his head. “No, really. Everything’s fine, but we must leave now.”Lemuel’s eyes pleaded with us to stay. “I understand your frustration, but please, Marco, give me a chance to make this right. Let me offer you some refreshments, perhaps a quiet place to relax. The night doesn’t have to end like this.”Marco’s grip on my should
SARAHAs we walked to the café, I was still trying to wrap my head around Marco’s sudden kindness. The outside of the café looked modest, but as soon as we stepped inside, I was pleasantly surprised. The interior was warm and inviting, with soft lighting and cozy seating.A waiter approached us almost immediately. “Good evening,” he said with a polite smile. “I’m John. Welcome to our café. Do you have a reservation?”Marco shook his head. “No, we don’t.”John’s smile faltered slightly. “I’m sorry, but we usually require reservations. It helps us manage our space better. I recommend you come back another time with a booking.”I felt a pang of disappointment. It was a small thing, but after everything tonight, I had hoped for this small comfort. Marco noticed my expression and turned back to John.“Look, we’ve had a really rough night. Is there any way you can fit us in? We won’t take long, just a quick coffee to unwind,” Marco said, his voice firm but polite.John barely acknowledged M
SARAHI stood there, still trying to process what Marco had just said. “You bought the café?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.Marco grinned, clearly enjoying my shock. “Yep, gave the manager an offer he couldn’t refuse,” he said, pulling out a chair and gesturing for me to sit. “Come on, take a seat.”I hesitated for a moment but then slowly sank into the chair, my mind racing. “An offer he couldn’t refuse? Marco, what did you do?”He leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I told him I’d buy the place for double its worth on the condition that we get immediate service and I can change whatever I want.”I blinked, trying to wrap my head around it. “Double its worth? That’s insane.”Marco shrugged nonchalantly. “Sometimes you have to make bold moves. Besides, it’s not just about the money. It’s about respect and making sure we’re treated right.”Before I could respond, John, the waiter, stepped forward, a look of determination on his face. “I’ve tried to be nice, but si
SARAHI was still trying to wrap my head around what Marco had just done. He had walked into the manager’s office and walked out with a smile, declaring he’d bought the café. Part of me was skeptical, wondering if this sudden kindness would come with some sort of backlash when we got home. Was this just another way to control me, to keep me under his thumb? Or was it possible that he genuinely wanted to make things better?As I sat there, more relaxed now, I started to appreciate the beauty of the café. The warm lighting, the cozy seating, and the soft hum of conversation created an inviting atmosphere. I looked around, my eyes landing on a couple playing with their little daughter at a nearby table. They seemed so happy, their laughter light and carefree.“Daddy, catch me!” the little girl squealed as she darted around the table, her tiny feet padding softly on the floor.Her father chuckled, pretending to reach for her but missing on purpose. “Oh no, she’s too fast for me!” he excla
ISABELLADamien’s eyes lingered on me, sharp and calculating. For a man who prided himself on control, I could see the faint cracks in his composure, the unease that flickered just beneath his confident exterior.“You’re serious,” he said finally, leaning forward. His voice was low, skeptical, but there was a hint of something else—curiosity, maybe, or intrigue.I gave him a small smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I don’t make empty promises, Damien. If you let me take the lead on this, Marco won’t just lose. He’ll crumble.”He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he studied me. His gaze was piercing, searching for any signs of weakness or deception, but I didn’t flinch.After what felt like an eternity, he nodded once, a sharp, deliberate motion. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll give you a chance. But understand this, Isabella: if you screw this up, there won’t be a second chance.”“I wouldn’t expect one,” I replied smoothly, my tone steady.For a moment, silence stretc
ISABELLAI adjusted myself in the seat, ready to speak, but before a single word left my lips, Damien raised a hand and cut me off with a smirk that could curdle milk.“Before you get started, Miss Isabella,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the desk, “I should let you know I don’t have much patience for loud women.”The words hit like a slap, but I held my ground, masking my irritation.“And,” he continued, his tone smooth but laced with condescension, “it’s a little difficult to believe that a woman—a woman, mind you—is going to be the one to hand me victory over Marco De Luca.”He smiled then, a crude twist of his lips that made something in my stomach churn. He didn’t even try to hide his amusement at his own words, the arrogance rolling off him like smoke.I felt my shoulders stiffen, the sting of his insult sharpening my focus. For a second, I wanted to walk out, but I wasn’t about to let someone like Damien Rossi make me second-guess myself.Instead, I s
ISABELLAThe vibration of my phone pulled me from sleep, the dim light of the screen casting a faint glow across the room. I squinted, blinking at the message:“10 a.m. - Firm location pinned. Be there.”An unknown number, but I didn’t need a name. It was them. Finally, the opportunity I’d been waiting for. My ticket to get back at Marco De Luca.A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I stared at the message. I could almost hear his voice, calm and cold, the way it had been that day when he kicked me out. His exact words still echoed in my mind:“I don’t tolerate liars, Isabella. Pack your things and leave.”He hadn’t even flinched. No hesitation, no second chances. It didn’t matter that I lied to protect myself. It didn’t matter that I was the best thing to ever happen to him. He tossed me aside like I was nothing.But I wasn’t nothing.As I sat up in bed, gripping my phone tightly, my thoughts sharpened with resolve. He thought he could have his perfect little life with his wife and hi
ISABELLAThe bar wasn’t what I expected.Dim lighting, loud music, and a crowd that seemed to have spilled in from every corner of the city made the place feel chaotic. My heels clicked against the scuffed floor as I stepped inside, phone in hand, scanning the room for anyone who matched the description I’d been given.Nothing.I checked the name of the bar again, comparing it to the last text I’d received. The Glass Ember. It was right. This was the place. So why did it feel like I was the punchline of some bad joke?I dialed the number again, pressing the phone to my ear as I moved toward the edge of the bar, away from the main crowd. The call didn’t go through—again.“Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath, lowering the phone. I leaned against the wall, feeling increasingly out of place. The bartender eyed me curiously from across the room, probably wondering why I wasn’t ordering anything. I ignored him, glancing at the door instead.Minutes passed, and the knot of irritation i
SARAHI woke up to the faint glow of sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains, my head feeling a little heavy. I winced slightly, turning over and burying my face in the soft pillows. Why did I feel like this? My memories from the previous night quickly pieced themselves together—the museum, Marco bringing me here, and that kiss… that intense, overwhelming kiss that I hadn’t resisted.A sigh escaped my lips as I sat up, rubbing my temples. “Mako never gets satisfied, does he?” I muttered to myself, a small smile tugging at my lips despite my teasing words.The room was silent except for the soft sound of Marco’s steady breathing. I glanced over at him, sprawled across the bed, his chest rising and falling peacefully. It was a rare sight to see him like this—relaxed, without the usual mischievous smirk or sharp edge in his eyes.He looked… cute. I let my gaze linger for a moment longer, a warmth spreading through my chest before I shook it off and slipped out of bed.I freshened u
SARAHThe rest of the event passed in a blur, but my mind wasn’t in the room anymore. It was stuck on Marco.His words lingered in my head like an echo I couldn’t shake. That flower—The Eternal Bloom. His determination to get it, the way his voice had cut through the air when he placed those bids, the confidence in his tone. And then that moment when he turned to me, just for a second, his eyes softening in a way that made my heart trip over itself.Why did he care so much about it? Why did he want it so badly? Was it just about the rarity, the prestige of owning something so unique? Or was it… was it about the legend?I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. Marco sat calmly, his expression unreadable as always, but I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it.And then, my own thoughts started betraying me. Why did I feel this warmth when I looked at him? Why did I feel like my heart was caught in a vice every time he was near? This wasn’t the first time he’d surprised me
SARAHWe pulled up to the entrance of the art house, and my breath hitched. The entire area was lit up with golden lights, the long red carpet stretching out in front of the grand building like something out of a movie. People in elegant gowns and tailored suits moved about, and the buzz of cameras clicking filled the air.Marco stepped out first, his expression calm and unreadable. As he walked to my side of the car and opened the door, I could already hear the rising chatter of reporters and the flashes of paparazzi cameras going wild.“Marco! Over here!”“Who’s the lady with you tonight?”“Marco, can we get a statement about—”“Mr. DeLuca, just one photo!”The voices were endless, overlapping and relentless. Marco ignored them completely, his focus solely on me as he held out his hand.“Ready?” he asked, his tone as steady as ever.I nodded, slipping my hand into his and stepping out. The second my heel touched the carpet, I felt the weight of a hundred eyes on me. The cameras shif
SARAHI stepped out of the shower, the warm steam clinging to my skin as I wrapped myself in a soft towel. For a moment, I let myself just stand there, the quiet hum of the bathroom fan filling the silence. Tonight felt… different. It wasn’t like we hadn’t gone out before, but something about the way Marco had asked, about the way he looked at me earlier, felt new.My eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. It was nearly eight. Marco had been very clear about the time—unusually clear, in fact. I smiled to myself, shaking my head. He always had this way of making even the smallest details seem important, and tonight, it seemed, was no exception.I dried off quickly, slipping into my robe before beginning my routine. My hands moved automatically—cleansing, moisturizing, brushing back my damp hair. As I worked, my thoughts wandered. It had been a while since we’d done something like this, just the two of us. Life had felt so… busy. Sometimes, it felt like we were more like two people shar
SARAHI curled up on the couch, my feet tucked under me as I searched for something to watch. It had been a long day, and all I wanted was to unwind. Flipping through the streaming options, I settled on a lighthearted anime I’d seen a few clips of online. Within minutes, I was already laughing at the silly humor and over-the-top characters.Resting my hand on my growing belly, I smiled, feeling a wave of warmth spread through me. “Do you like this too, little one?” I asked softly, glancing down. “Is it funny to you?” The thought of my baby growing up and maybe loving the same silly things I did made me giggle. It was such a wholesome, peaceful moment that I wished I could bottle it up.I was halfway through the first episode when I heard the sound of the front door opening. I turned my head and smiled instinctively as Marco walked in. As always, he looked effortlessly put together—his black button-up shirt fit him perfectly, and his presence seemed to fill the room the second he stepp