As the plane ascended, I looked out of the window, watching Paris shrink into the horizon. I let out a long sigh. “Thank you, Paris. It’s been a pleasure,” i said softly, half to myself. But was it? Pleasure wasn’t exactly the word I would use to describe the last forty-eight hours of my life. What was supposed to be a drama-free getaway turned into an emotional battlefield.I had an encounter with Jack, the man who tore my heart to shreds, flaunting his mistress Hannah, in a city he swore he’d never visit because it was ‘overrated.’ In a moment of weakness, I had slept with Jack, which was mind-blowing, but now he pretended it didn’t happen. And to top it all off, we had agreed to get married immediately when we landed back home, which felt surreal every time I thought about it.On the brighter side, I was officially a millionaire. This morning, curiosity had gotten the best of me, and I logged into my bank account. Ten million dollars, just sitting there, untouched. That made my day
The nightmare. The same one I’d been having since I was a kid. It was more than a nightmare, it was a memory. One I’d spent years trying to bury but never could. I wasn’t ready to talk about it with Racheal. Not yet. That’s why I bolted out of the room that morning.I know I hurt her by doing that. The look in her eyes said it all. But what else could I have done? I reacted the only way I knew how—ignore it, and eventually, it would go way. That was the very reason I’d spent years in therapy, yet clearly, I’d learned nothing. What kind of man walks away like that after what we shared the night before? Even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew I didn’t deserve her understanding.When Racheal returned from her day out, I was relieved to see her. I’d missed her. Strange as it sounds, having her around filled a space I didn’t even realize was empty. She was feisty, her mood spicier than usual, and I couldn’t help but smile. I enjoyed getting on her nerves, watching her fire up like that
As Michael pulled up to Amy's house, I let out a small sigh of relief. I was glad to be back. Paris had been incredible, but it had also been overwhelming. The last hour of the flight was awkward. Jake had been acting off—restless, agitated, and downright distracted. Every five minutes, he glanced at his watch like he was racing against time. I wasn’t about to ask him what was going on; his distant demeanor after the nightmare incident had already taught me not to pry. If he wanted me to know, he’d tell me.When we landed, he basically jumped out of the plane, his phone in hand, leaving behind his carry-on and everything else. From my window seat, I could see him pacing on the tarmac, making call after call. At one point, I saw him clench his fists and punch the air as if he’d lost something important. Whatever it was, it was none of my business. I had my own problems to deal with.First, I needed to find something appropriate to wear to the courthouse tomorrow. Still, the thought of
RACHAEL'S POVI hadn’t slept a wink the entire night. Amy’s news about the baby shower had gnawed at me, clawing at my thoughts in ways I couldn’t even articulate. On top of that, Amy hadn’t taken my news about moving out well. She felt blindsided, maybe even a little betrayed. I had spent a good chunk of the night convincing her to accept, which she eventually did, but there was still tension between us. Ethan came home late, and I’d overheard them arguing about me. Their voices were muffled through the walls, but I had caught enough to know that I had somehow become a source of friction between them. That didn’t sit right with me. I never wanted to come between them, but I was unintentionally.I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts spiraling in every direction. I hadn’t even had the time to figure out what I’d wear to the courthouse, and morning was approaching fast. Amy had to come through for me one last time. I tiptoed to their bedroom, hesitant but desperate. To m
JAKE’S POVI didn’t even realize Rachael had left until the car Matthew ordered for me pulled up. I was glued to my phone since the moment I got off the plane.The good news? I was in. My financial manager had come through at the last minute. Securing me a spot. Now, it was a waiting game. The opportunity I’d been chasing for years was finally within reach, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like enough.Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to me. I needed to regroup. I arrived at my penthouse, poured myself a whiskey, and sank into the leather couch, trying to still the chaos in my mind. The events that had occurred in Paris were still fresh—too fresh. I hadn’t gotten over sleeping with Rachael. The memory of her haunted me, replaying in flashes that left my body tense and my thoughts scattered. Every now and then, I’d find myself shifting uncomfortably, craving her in ways I shouldn’t. I needed a distraction—and fast.I decided to return to the one thing that had always centere
RACHEAL'S POV"So, husband, how should we celebrate this union?" I tease Jake, slipping my arm from his as we exited the courthouse."Well, Mrs. Matthews, what do you want to do?" he asks, his grin spreading wide across his face."I’d like my boss to give me the day off," emphasizing the word "boss" as I begin walking towards my car. "There’s an apartment I want to check out. If possible, I’d like to move in today."Jake stops mid-stride and looks at me like I’d just said the sky was green. "What do you mean, look for an apartment, Rachael? We’re married. Married people live together.""Oh!" I exclaim, feigning innocence and turning to face him. "You mean we were supposed to move in immediately?"Jake’s brows furrow as he places his hands on his waist, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. "Rachael, I thought that was the deal. I’ve already bought a house for us.""We can go check it out now,” he gestures to his car. “leave yours, and I’ll send someone to pick it up. Before I respond, he m
I step out of the car, stunned by the sheer grandeur of the estate. Everything about this place exuded luxury, from the sleek modern architecture to the manicured lawns that seemed to stretch endlessly.I follow Jake to the massive front door, which he unlocks with a key he retrieves from his pocket. As the door swings open, I am greeted by a breathtakingly high-ceilinged living room flooded with natural light—a glass wall overlooking a perfectly landscaped backyard. The open-plan kitchen was a chef’s dream, complete with state-of-the-art appliances and an oversized marble island.Unable to contain my excitement, I begin exploring. Every step revealing something new—a cozy sunroom, a grand dining area, even a home theater. The house was enormous, almost intimidating. If Jake and I were to move in here, we could live entirely separate lives and barely cross paths.Jake’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Can I show you your side of the house?"I turn to him, my excitement bubbling over
I knew better than to push him further. Instead, I watched as he served the food into two bowls and carried them to the dining table.Typical Jake. He gave me just enough to intrigue me but shut the door before I could dig deeper. Still, I couldn’t blame him. He’d already shared more than I ever thought he would.“This is delicious!” I exclaim, savoring another bite of the beef stir-fry paired with fried rice and a side of perfectly sautéed veggies. I was trying to lighten the mood after the heavy conversation earlier, but Jake’s stoic expression told me he wasn’t quite there yet. However, after a brief pause, his face softens just a little, and he surprises me by asking, “And what’s your story, Rachael?”I take a moment before responding. My story wasn’t as tragic as Jake’s, but it wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows either. “Well, Jake, I’m an only child. My parents are divorced, and my mom is...well...a complete narcissist.”Jake raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You mean a
RACHAEL'S POVI couldn’t believe Jake had just come and gone without saying a word to me. He rushed out like he was late for something important, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sat there on the couch, staring at the ceiling, trying to process the whirlwind of the past few days. The sun was already up, and boredom crept in like an unwelcome guest.I grab my phone and begin mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. As I flip through the posts, a photo of Amy and Ethan catches my eye. They look radiant, clearly on vacation somewhere beautiful. My chest tightens. The last time I’d spoken to Amy was at the Crawford luncheon. Since then, I have avoided her. She’d tried to reach out, but I hadn’t responded. I’d been a terrible friend.Taking a deep breath, I shot her a text: "Hey, how are you?"I bury my phone under a couch cushion, resisting the urge to stare at the screen, waiting for her reply. I needed a distraction, so I grab my laptop. To my surprise, an inquiry about my marketing
JAKE'S POVWilliam’s silence surprises me as well. I expected him to fight back, deny everything or storm out. Instead, he sits there in silence, his face completely unreadable. Karen, on the other hand, is far less composed. She shoves the letter in his face, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and rage.“Did you know about this?”William exhales slowly and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Elizabeth and I agreed she was going to… take care of it. I’m not surprised she didn’t that’s all.”His words hang in the air, each one more infuriating than the last. The calm demeanor I’d been holding onto begins to crumble. My temper is rising, threatening to spill over.“Wait,” my voice low and dangerous. “You knew she was pregnant?”William doesn’t flinch, his tone is detached. “Of course, I knew but like I said, I thought she got rid of it.”That confession hits me harder than I expect, a knot tightens in my chest. For a moment, I can’t speak.“I think she kept you bec
JAKE'S POVSleep eluded me. No matter how much I tossed and turned, my thoughts kept circling back to Rachael, all alone in that big house. No matter how angry I was at her, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at my chest.I had also grown accustomed to not being entirely alone. Even though we slept in separate rooms, I always knew she was there. Her presence had become an unspoken comfort.I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 2:00 a.m. There was no way I could go back to the house at this time without startling her. I sigh, staring at the ceiling, waiting for morning, waiting for a reasonable hour to check on her.Two restless hours later, I was up again, standing under the cold spray of the shower, hoping to wash away my tangled emotions. It didn’t help. The image of her face when I walked out on her lingered, tugging at something deep inside me.Sipping my coffee, I stared at the whiteboard from yesterday and I review my notes, fine tuning my plan to keep my mind occup
RACHAEL’S POVI spend the entire day trying to reach Jake. Call after call, voicemail after voicemail, but it is no use. He wasn’t picking up. He was sulking somewhere, letting his anger simmer, and left me to drown in the silence he left behind.I paced the living room, my nerves fraying with each passing minute. Where could he be? What is he doing? My mind began to spin with the possibilities.Had he gone to the police? Was he confronting the Crawfords?The unknown gnawed at me, clawing at my insides. If Jake had gone to the police, it would be over for me. I would be arrested for tampering with evidence, and no explanation I gave would matter. I was terrified of what he might do in his anger. Jake was impulsive, and I had learned the hard way that his anger was blinding.But it was already night, and he’d been gone for hours. If the police were going to come for me, they would have done so by now. That thought offers me a sliver of comfort, but it doesn’t ease my anxiety entirely.
JAKE’S POVAs I speed past the estate gates, my hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turn white. My blood is boiling, and no amount of deep breaths can calm me down. Rachael had betrayed me. The one person I thought I could trust. The one person I let in.I thought we were partners. I thought she had my back. “Damn it!” I slam my palm against the wheel in frustration. How could she keep something like that from me? There is only one explanation: she still loves Jack.My chest burns with a mixture of anger and pain, my head pounding not just from the betrayal but from the lingering hangover of last night. Why today, of all days, did she decide to drop this bomb on me? She couldn't have picked a worse moment.I had to leave the house before I did or said something I couldn’t take back. The anger was too raw, too consuming. The walls of that place felt suffocating. At least I still had my penthouse in the city—a sanctuary I could retreat to at a time like this.As I
RACHAEL'S POVJack’s deflection had said it all. He’d danced around the question with that smug indifference that only made him look guiltier than ever. It was time to involve Jake, even though I knew how this would go. He will be furious that I hadn’t shared this with him earlier. But what choice do I have now? Better late than never, I tell myself as I pull into the driveway, already bracing for the fallout.When I step inside, the house is quiet, except for the low hum of the fridge in the kitchen. Jake is sitting on one of the bar stools, pressing an icepack against his head. He looks like hell—disheveled, pale, and haunted, like the aftermath of whatever had driven him to drink is still clinging to him.“You good?” I ask, setting my purse down on the counter, trying to ease into the conversation.Jake nods silently, not even glancing my way. He looks like the angel of death had brushed past him and left him worse for wear.“Want to talk about what made you drink like that?” I ask
RACHAEL'S POVI hadn’t spoken to Jake in days. Not because there wasn’t anything to say, but because I was avoiding him. Avoiding the guilt that gnawed at me every time I thought about the evidence I’d hidden. That jerrycan with the old Crawford Oil Industries logo felt like a bomb in my purse, waiting to explode. I’d been going in circles, debating what to do with it.The logical part of me knew I had to confront Jack. But the idea of calling him, of hearing his voice, twisted my stomach into knots. How would he react? Would he deny it outright? Laugh in my face? I wasn’t sure I was ready for the confrontation.When Jake’s name lit up on my phone, my heart skipped a beat. He never called me, ever. If he needed something, it was always a text or a face-to-face conversation. I hesitated for a while, but I finally answered.“Hello?”His voice was slurred, almost incomprehensible. “Rachael... I’m... I’m at the bar. Pick me up. I’m at...” he trailed off, mumbling the name of the bar befor
JAKE’S POVInside, the lobby gleams with marble floors and crystal chandeliers, its elegance only adding to the sour taste in my mouth. At the reception desk, a woman with a practiced smile informs me Mrs. Raymond had already left instructions. I was to be sent directly to her suite.As I ride the elevator up, my stomach churns. I feel like a cheap escort being summoned to perform a duty. The thought makes me sick, but I bury the emotion deep, locking it away where it can’t touch me. I remind myself why I am here. This is business. Nothing more.The elevator chimes softly, and the doors slide open. I walk down the plush-carpeted hallway, my footsteps muffling as if the hotel itself is trying to silence my guilt. Room 912. My hand hesitates on the door handle for a brief second before I swipe the keycard and step inside.The room is dimly lit; Mrs. Raymond is already waiting for me. She is sprawled across the bed in a silk robe and red lingerie that leaves little to the imagination. He
JAKE’S POVThe past few days had been a blur of chaos. Between insurance meetings, ongoing investigations, and trying to salvage what I could from the restaurant fire, I barely had time to breathe, let alone see Rachael. I would leave the house before she woke up and return long after she was asleep. It wasn’t ideal, but it had to be done.At least I was making progress.I’d managed to acquire a significant number of shares in Crawford Oil Industries (COI), and now, I was one signature away from becoming the majority shareholder. It was a risky game, but one I couldn’t afford to lose. I just hoped the Crawfords wouldn’t catch wind of what I was doing before it was too late.Tonight is crucial. I had arranged a dinner with the last shareholder, Mrs. Raymond, a shrewd businesswoman with a reputation for playing hardball. I picked one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city—an attempt to “butter her up” before dropping the offer. If I could convince her, my plan would finally fall