AltheaThe first trial would be held next week.So far, the progress was good on my side. I couldn’t explain how exactly, but Matthias found out the writers of those ugly lies–as he called them–were paid by the owner of Cleoraque, Martha Anastasia, that one brand that claimed my product was only a copycat. “Martha is one of Davos’s nieces,” Matthias informed me. “You know what that means.”Even if I didn’t really like the idea, he was right. I wasn’t sure of what method my father used to get to business. From what I’ve seen, he chose to invest in something rather than creating another product on his own. Erbeauty haven’t released any new products in years. It was only an updated formula or packaging, or special editions. It didn’t matter anyway. My father still got his money running with his investment.The launch of my Art Palette was a good sign for the company, and also a warning for my rivals. I never wanted to have one, but business was a cruel world. When Matthias said it like
AltheaI didn’t know much about marriage. So, I might not be a suitable person to comment on this, but I knew we were skipping steps a lot. Like … A LOT. You would take your spouse or partner to meet your family before you marry them. While Matthias took me to his family once, this was my first time to meet his grandmother. I’ve met his uncles, aunts, cousins, niece, and so on. The meeting didn’t go long, so I wasn’t thinking about it too much. There was no important or meaningful conversation going. But this time, it was different. Despite Matthias kept telling me it wouldn’t be much, I could feel it was different for him. We did not meet in some grand luxurious hotel or fancy restaurant, nor in our penthouse, but in Osman Cox’old house. We stayed there for two days to clean up and prepare the whole house. This was also my first time to visit.“It will be easier for her to be in here rather than ours.” He once told me that. Matthias reasoned it was because of the lift, stairs, a
(This was before chapter 7, I forgot to add this, so I upload this to minimize plot hole. Sorry for the inconvenience.)-AltheaIt was only two o’clock in the evening, and I already missed my bed.Not because I wanted to sleep that bad, but because I needed it. I barely had any sleep for a few days. I went to my new office yesterday. I haven’t met anyone face to face, but I had a few Zoom meetings about business in the morning until evening, and I got to catch up to learn anything I didn’t understand, which was basically everything. In my free time, I had to do my social activity–at least that's how Josh called it. It was a softer version of “looking for a husband, call if interested”.No one asked me if I was interested in this or not. Free answer: I totally did not.I thought by being rich, one would feel sufficient enough to be alone. Once you got money, what more would you want?Then I knew the answer. Of course, more money. Enough was nothing but a concept, an illusion created
Ilya might be the nicest and funniest person in the Cox family.Despite only knowing her for a short period of time, I felt like it was safe to assume so. She had this laidback personality that I haven’t seen in any other Coxes. When I met Matthias’s family, they looked at me as if they questioned my existence and why I was in front of them. I was like a threat rather than a family member.Here with Ilya, I felt more humane. Like she saw me as a person, a girl that married his favorite grandson. There were no questionable stares of suspicious gaze directed to me, even if I realized she did look at me several times when we ate.Ilya used the time to catch up with whatever happened to us–our wedding, honeymoon, and current life. She asked about the business–Matthias’s and mine–but that was all. There was no discussion about inheritance, investment percentage, stock and share. It was all about simple questions filled with genuine care.“I’m still sad that I couldn’t attend your wedding.
AltheaThe presence of Ilya Cox didn’t make my daily routine hard in any particular way, but something sure did change. She was going to stay in New York for ten days, so Matthias and I stayed with her. We agreed to do our work from home, and we used Osman Cox’ previous home office. We did what we usually did before, but it seemed Ilya had different ideas in mind.“I know you two have these big responsibilities for your business, but it’s okay to take a break and enjoy your time together, you know? The work can wait.”I thought she wanted us three to go somewhere, but it turned out she wanted us to have dinner. Only the two of us. That was why Matthias took me to a western restaurant in Cooperstown–Ilya’s recommendation, she said we could find one of the best steakhouses in New York there–to dine together. I wasn’t sure if this could be called a date, since none of us planned this. But we did go either way with Matthias’s Ford. He only wore a simple navy blue shirt, and I matched hi
AltheaEveryone knew who Matthias Cox was. It wasn’t a new thing for me to hear someone greet him all of a sudden, let it be men or women. This was definitely not my first rodeo. When we were out together on our date before the wedding, people greeted us on our way. Some media outlets openly approached us and asked for photos.But this was different. There was no camera, recorder, or any devices. It was only a woman with red plump lipstick, perfect manicure, and big boobs that came to our table. “You remember me, right?” When I heard it the second time, I felt like something was off. I knew I wasn’t that experienced with people and their personality, but even so I could feel when something was fake. Rather than sweet, I found it annoying. If I was Matthias, I would make the same expression too.Well, maybe not exactly that. I didn’t like it, but hearing it wouldn’t make me stiff and turned into a stone all of a sudden.“There is no way you will forget me,” she said once again, this
MatthiasAfter all these years, she appeared.Five years have already passed, but she hadn’t not changed much. She was still the same Sloane Floyd I knew back then. Still with that bold look, flirtatious smile, and touchy as ever. She was definitely still with the same mindset too: she thought I was still in her grasp. Meeting her tonight wasn’t on my wishlist, or any other time. She was like a thorn in my body, so small that I didn’t notice, but when she appeared, I remembered the scars she caused. It was still there, burnt, and it needed to be calmed down. I wanted to take my mind from something I’ve thrown away years ago. I needed some distraction.And Althea happened to be with me.Since the start, she had stolen my attention. I didn’t think much of Sloane. She was not the reason why I took Althea with me. It was Althea herself. She took my sole focus with the way she looked at me and Sloane, to the way she stood up and said, “He is mine.”She said it as if she wanted to claim
AltheaToo many things happened out of the plan tonight.It was supposed to be a simple dinner, that was all. There was no making out in the parking lot, getting horny in the car, and went back to our penthouse rather than going back to Ilya.I didn’t expect all of these, yet it did. Did I regret it? I wasn’t really sure. I didn’t want to think about that either. Or to be exact, I couldn’t. My mind was occupied with whatever Matthias did to me. There was no time to think. The moment we arrived and went into our penthouse, Matthias slammed me against the wall, fusing his lips into mine once again. He took no time to dominate me, and all I could do was to succumb to his control.The things we did in the car were hot, but it wasn’t worth mentioning compared to what we were currently doing. This time, his hands were all over me, exploring every inch he hadn’t touched before. My face, my neck, my shoulder, my boobs, even my hips. He slipped his right hand inside my blouse, while the othe
MatthiasIt was always better to say nothing than to say something unnecessary. That was what I believed.Before this shit started to happen.There were things that were better left unsaid. I lived my life long enough, learned my lesson well enough to know that speaking things might bring trouble. And I hated trouble–even when the reality was trouble liked me quite a lot to come on my way.Gwen was nothing. At least for a few years now. I didn’t like to talk about her, nor did I feel the need to do so. She was something I chose to leave in the dark, to keep in a box and throw it away as far as possible.Yet she walked in, once again, with reasons I couldn’t explain. I ignored all her messages, mails, even calls. I made sure she didn’t get any access to reach me. Some people were better to be treated that way.So how could Althea meet her? And what the fuck with that “Matthias’s dearest”? Hearing it almost made me throw up.And now, Althea wouldn’t even look at me.For three days, she
AltheaWas it normal to feel like you were hurt by something, but also felt guilty because you feel hurt? I didn’t know what kind of paradox this was called, or if it was only something that I made up to feel less insane–and failed anyway. I went back to the office, eating nothing, drinking nothing, speaking nothing.I stared at my laptop screen for what felt like hours, but the words blurred together into incomprehensible lines of text. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, useless, frozen. No matter how much I tried to push past it, Gwen’s words replayed in my head, over and over, an unrelenting echo.Matthias’s dearest.The way she said it, the way she looked at me—like I was an outsider in my own marriage. And wasn’t I? Wasn’t that exactly what I was? A placeholder. A name on a contract. A woman with no right to feel anything.And yet, the sting in my chest refused to fade. It pressed deeper, sharper, until it felt like I was suffocating under the weight of something I shouldn’t e
AltheaThe words lingered between us, thick and suffocating. Matthias’s dearest.I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. My grip on the coffee cup was painfully tight, my knuckles white from the pressure.Gwen’s smile remained perfectly poised, as if she were savoring the reaction she’d just pulled from me. Her hazel eyes gleamed with something unreadable—amusement, curiosity, maybe even satisfaction. She wasn’t just saying it to inform me. She was testing me.I forced myself to swallow past the lump in my throat. “Oh,” I said, my voice thin. “I see.”That was the best I could come up with? I see?Gwen hummed lightly, tilting her head as she studied me. “I thought Matthias would have mentioned me. We go way back.”Go way back.Each word chipped away at the weak wall I had built around my heart. It was stupid, wasn’t it? To feel anything at all? I was nothing but Matthias’s fake wife. A legal obligation. A name on a contract. But that didn’t stop the unease slithering beneath my skin, wrappin
AltheaIt seemed like I needed a tutorial about how to not overthink things.Days had passed, and by this time, I should have stopped thinking about that name: Gwen. And yet, I couldn’t.Every time I looked at Matthias—when we had breakfast together, when he returned home late at night with that same unreadable expression—her name echoed in my mind like a whisper I couldn’t silence. Who was she? Why hadn’t he said anything about her? Was it because she was just another person in his long list of acquaintances, or was it because she was someone I was never supposed to know about?The worst part was, I knew I had no right to ask. I was his fake wife. Nothing more. We had a contract, an agreement built on necessity, not love. If there was another woman in his life—someone he truly cared about—what place did I have to question it? And yet, knowing all this didn’t make it any easier to ignore the gnawing unease that clawed at my chest.Matthias, on the other hand, remained as composed as e
[Folded page, extra POV]The dim glow of multiple screens illuminated the darkened room, casting jagged shadows against the walls. The only sound was the faint hum of machines, a steady pulse in the silence. Rows of code scrolled down the largest monitor, lines of encrypted data shifting in real time. Another screen displayed a series of documents—emails, phone records, confidential case files. Each one meticulously compiled, each one tied to a single name: Matthias.The blackmailer leaned back in their chair, fingers tapping idly against the desk as they scanned the information. Matthias had taken the bait. He was cautious, but that was expected. He was a man who thrived on control, on understanding the rules of the game better than anyone else. Which made it all the more satisfying to shift those rules beneath his feet. The misdirection had worked, at least for now. New York had been too easy, too obvious. But it served its purpose—it forced Matthias to react. And a man in motion wa
MatthiasThere’s a reason why dealing with idiots is exhausting.Sure, expecting too much often leads to disappointment rather than satisfaction, but I’m fairly certain every person is at least given a brain to think. Some just choose not to use it, letting it rot into nothing more than dead weight in their skulls. And the worst part? They don’t even realize it. They move through life making the same mistakes, refusing to take responsibility, blaming everything and everyone except their own incompetence. It’s almost impressive—the mental gymnastics they go through just to avoid admitting they’re the problem.I tended to stay far from those types. I’d rather deal with nobody than waste my time getting mad over someone’s stupid and questionable behavior. But unfortunately, in business, avoiding them entirely wasn’t always an option. Some of them were clients. Some of them were investors. Some of them were people who, for whatever reason, had power they didn’t deserve.And people like me
AltheaThe morning light seeped through the kitchen window, casting a soft glow over the table. The scent of coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the faint crispness of toast and the subtle warmth of eggs fresh off the pan. It was quiet, save for the occasional clink of silverware against plates and the low hum of the coffee machine.Matthias sat across from me, his fingers wrapped around a steaming mug, eyes still heavy with the remnants of sleep. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his hair still damp from a shower, a few strands falling over his forehead. He wasn’t reading the newspaper or looking at his phone like he usually did. Instead, he was watching me.I didn’t know if he was waiting for me to say or do something, but I didn’t feel like doing anything at all.Maybe it was because of the lack of sleep. Last night was tiring, sure. I had barely had enough sleep or food since my aunt’s funeral. My body was tired, I couldn’t lie. Yet as I lay in bed, I couldn’t get myself to slee
MatthiasThe drive home was steeped in silence, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the rhythmic pattern of rain against the windshield. The darkness outside stretched endlessly, mirroring the weight pressing against my chest. My mind was a battlefield, tangled in the web of revelations Cyan had unearthed—threats that had never truly disappeared, ghosts from a past I had fought to bury.Fenny’s death wasn’t random. It wasn’t some tragic accident or an unfortunate coincidence. It was deliberate. A warning. A message.And somehow, all of it led back to the past—the one I had tried so damn hard to leave behind.By the time I pulled into the driveway, exhaustion was gnawing at the edges of my mind, but the tension in my body didn’t ease. The house stood still, bathed in shadows, save for the faint glow bleeding from the living room window. I lingered outside for a moment, breathing in the crisp night air, letting the rain soak into my skin. The cold did little to ground me.Insid
MatthiasI drove through the quiet streets, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. The rhythmic tapping of rain against the windshield did little to drown out the thoughts hammering in my skull. The blackmail letters sat on the passenger seat beside the laptop I had retrieved from Fenny’s apartment, a silent accusation in the dim glow of the dashboard. The weight of them pressed against me, heavier than paper had any right to be. My mind churned through possibilities, each one darker than the last. Every turn of the tires felt like it was carrying me deeper into something I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.Fenny was dead. And now, staring at the threats she had received, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just about her. This was bigger. A tangled web I had somehow been caught in long before I even realized it.I pulled up to a nondescript building in an industrial district, killing the engine and stepping out. The air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked pavement and