DAMIEN“Shit,” I mutter to myself, dread creeping in. This is not how things were supposed to go.I stare at the message, the words blurring as my pulse quickens. “We need to talk.” That’s never good—my mind races, deciphering what Anna could know. The image in the text flashes through my mind again—me, that girl at the bar, too close, her hand on my arm, my laugh too careless. How the hell did Anna find out?I swallow hard, pacing the length of my living room, the phone clutched in my hand like it’s a lifeline. My gut twists with a sickening realization: this could ruin everything. Everything we’ve planned, for—is gone in an instant because of one stupid, meaningless night. I need to fix this, and fast.But how? My fingers hover over the screen, unsure of how to respond. A million thoughts rush through my head. I could deny it, say it was nothing, that the picture is misleading. But Anna won’t believe me. Admitting I messed up when I agreed to her condition, especially so close to t
ANNAI wake up with a heavy feeling in my chest, the weight of yesterday’s conversation with Damien still pressing down on me. I can’t shake the image of that photo, the way he was with her, so casual, so careless. The betrayal stings, but what’s worse is the uncertainty that’s settled in the pit of my stomach. Can I move past this and get married to him? Do I even want to fulfil Mr Williams Donovan’s wish?As I sit up in bed, the morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow around the room. I take a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. Today is supposed to be the final day of wedding preparations, but instead, it feels like everything is hanging by a thread. My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I glance at it, half-expecting another message from Damien. But it’s just a reminder about our meeting with the wedding planner. A knot forms in my stomach as I think about facing Damien today. Part of me wants to cancel the meeting altogether, to avoid the confrontation
DAMIENThe moment I hit the "Post" button, it's like releasing a dam. I watch as the announcement about our wedding goes live, sending ripples across the internet. My phone immediately lights up with notifications—texts, emails, social media alerts—each one more overwhelming than the last.The invitation card that I chose for the post has our names nicely designed on it. Within seconds, the first wave of headlines starts to flood in, and I know the world is watching. I glance at my phone as the screen buzzes continuously, new alerts flashing faster than I can read them. Each headline feels like a punch, some more annoying than others:“Billionaire Damien Donovan Announces Wedding to Anna Smith—Is This the Event of the Year?”“Power Couple Alert: Damien Donovan and Anna Smith Set to Tie the Knot—But Will It Last?” “Damien Donovan and Anna Smith Wedding Announcement Breaks the Internet—What’s Next for the Business Mogul?”“Love or Obligation? Inside the Wedding of the Year”“Can Anna
ANNAI stare at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman looking back at me. My eyes, once bright and full of hope, now seem clouded, weighed down by everything that’s happened. The decision to go through with the wedding feels like a chain wrapped around my chest, tightening with each passing day.I smooth down the fabric of my dress, a soft, pale blue that’s meant to evoke serenity but only serves to highlight the turmoil churning inside me. I take a deep breath, trying to centre myself. Today is the day I check out my wedding dress with Lola and the final wedding planning meeting with Damien and Mrs Scott. The wedding is in two days and at this point, there’s no backing out. I can’t help but think of the headlines, and the relentless media frenzy that’s followed us ever since we announced the wedding. Every news alert, and every social media post, feels like a fresh wound. I never imagined it would be this way judged by strangers who don’t even know me.I reach fo
ANNA My heart pounds in my chest, echoing the chaos that surrounds me. Today is the day—the day my life changes forever. The day I fulfil Mr Williams Donovan's last wish by marrying Damien. The day I step into the spotlight, not just as a bride, but as a public figure. A symbol of something larger than myself.I stand still as the stylist finishes the last touches on my hair, pinning the delicate veil into place. The gown feels heavy on my shoulders, not just in weight but in significance. It’s a masterpiece—ivory lace, intricate beading, a train that flows like water. It’s everything a girl could dream of, and yet I feel like I’m suffocating under its weight.Lola steps into the room, her eyes bright with excitement. “Anna, you look stunning,” she says, her voice filled with genuine awe. She’s dressed in a soft blush bridesmaid dress, her hair styled in loose waves. She’s the perfect vision of calm, the rock I’ve leaned on throughout this entire ordeal.“Thanks, Lola,” I reply, tryi
DAMIENThe light filtering through the curtains feels almost too bright, a sharp contrast to the dim haze that has settled over my thoughts since the wedding. I’m sitting in my study, my tie loosened around my neck, the remnants of the previous night still lingering in my mind. The wedding. The chaos. The attention. It’s all been... a lot.The soft hum of my phone vibrating on the desk breaks through my thoughts. I glance at the screen, noting Evans’ name flashing across it. I let out a sigh before picking it up and bringing the phone to my ear.“Evans,” I say, my voice tinged with a weariness I can’t quite shake.“Damien!” Evans’ voice booms through the speaker, full of energy, like always. “Man, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all morning! How are you feeling, Mr. Married Man?”I manage a chuckle, though it feels forced. “Feeling... married, I guess.”Evans laughs, the sound hearty and genuine. “Come on, don’t be so serious. Yesterday was a blast! The wedding was incredible. Br
ANNAThe morning light filters through the large windows, casting a soft glow over the polished floors of the mansion. It's my first time in Damien's home—our home now. The grandeur of it all is almost overwhelming. The high ceilings, the intricate moulding, the expansive rooms... everything about this house screams wealth, power, and status. It’s a far cry from the cozy apartment I once shared with my parents.Miss Rosie, Damien’s nanny, is standing patiently by the door. She’s dressed in a neat uniform, her expression warm and welcoming. She’s been working for the Donovan’s together with my father for years, and it shows in the way she moves through the house with such ease like she’s part of its very foundation.“Mrs. Donovan,” she begins, her voice gentle, “would you like me to show you around the house? I can help you get acquainted with everything you need to know.”I force a smile, nodding. “Yes, thank you, Miss Rosie. That would be great. But please call me Anna.”She smiles
DAMIEN Maldives is paradise. The kind of place that you see in travel magazines and wonder if it could be real. White sandy beaches, crystal-clear water, palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze—it’s everything you’d expect and more. My late father outdid himself with his last wish as every plan of his is going on well. Who would have thought I, Damien Donovan would ever be travelling to the Maldives with my wife for our honeymoon?Anna is beside me, her face a mix of awe and anxiety. It’s her first time travelling, and I know this trip should be something special for her. But the tension between us is thick, almost suffocating. Ever since the wedding, we’ve been playing our roles, going through the motions, but there’s a wall between us—one that I’m not sure how to break down, or if I even want to.As we arrive at the resort, the staff greets us with warm smiles and cold towels. They show us to our rooms—separate, of course. Anna and I exchange a glance, but neither of us says anythi
ANNAThe cold air bites at my cheeks as I step out of the terminal at JFK Airport, clutching my suitcase. The New York skyline looms in the distance, a strange mixture of awe and dread settling over me. Ian’s text with his address burns in my mind. My hands tremble slightly as I hail a cab.Was this the right decision?Doubt claws at me, but I shove it aside. Damien doesn’t care. He hasn’t cared for a long time or so I tell myself. The memory of his angry eyes last night twists something deep in my chest, but I force myself to breathe. This is about me now. About starting over.The cab ride feels endless, and when it finally pulls up to a towering building, my stomach churns. Nicholas’s directions lead me to a penthouse suite, the opulence of the place making me hesitate for a moment before knocking.The door swings open almost immediately, and there he is Nicholas, looking as polished as ever in a tailored suit, his dark eyes sharp and calculating."Anna," he greets, his lips curlin
DAMIENThe moment I read Anna’s message, my entire world shifts."Don’t bother coming home tonight. I won’t be here when you do."The words burn in my mind as I grab my car keys and race out of the office. Every mile I drive feels like a lifetime, the thought of her leaving consuming me. She can’t leave. Not like this. Not without me setting things right.My tyres screech as I pull into the driveway, the house eerily silent. The lights are on, but the emptiness screams louder than words. I storm inside, calling out her name."Anna!"No answer.I head upstairs, my chest tightening as I push open the bedroom door. The sight stops me cold. Her side of the closet is half-empty, drawers open and rifled through. A suitcase is gone. My heart pounds.She’s gone."Miss Rosie!" I bellow, my voice echoing through the halls.My appears at the bottom of the stairs, her face pinched with worry. "Damien, what’s wrong?"I take the steps two at a time, reaching her in seconds. "Where is she? Where’s A
ANNAI pace the living room, phone pressed tightly to my ear, waiting for Lola to pick up. My hands are trembling, a mixture of anger, frustration, and something I can’t quite name boiling inside me. After what feels like an eternity, her familiar voice answers."Hey, girl! What’s up?"Lola’s voice is light and casual, but I can’t match her tone."Lola," I say, my voice strained, "I need to talk to you."Her tone shifts immediately. "What’s wrong? Did something happen with Damien?"I sink into the couch, pulling a blanket over my lap. "Everything. Everything is wrong, Lola. We argued last night, and it was bad. He’s distant, I’m distant it’s like we’re tearing each other apart."I pour everything out, my words tumbling over each other in a rush. I tell her about the fight, about Nicholas, and how Damien discovered the messages. I even admit to avoiding Damien due to her advice on being distant from him. By the time I finish, I’m out of breath, my throat tight from holding back tears.L
ANNAThe room feels suffocatingly empty. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, tears sliding silently down my cheeks. The weight of my argument with Damien presses on my chest like a boulder, making breathing hard.How did we get here? One moment, we’re building something fragile yet hopeful; the next, it’s all crumbling beneath our feet.I glance at the door, hoping against hope that he’ll walk in and say something anything to bridge the widening chasm between us. But the house is eerily quiet.When the clock strikes midnight and there’s still no sign of Damien, the pain in my chest intensifies. He’s always been composed, never one to let his emotions get the better of him, but tonight, he was raw, unfiltered. The anger in his eyes, the hurt in his voice it’s all on replay in my mind.I pull the covers up to my chin, curling into myself as the tears come faster now, sobs shaking my body. The truth of it all stings: I messed up. I avoided him, and let Nicholas’s messages fill a void I
DAMIEN Tonight, I’ve had enough. As I walk into the bedroom, I see her sitting on the bed, scrolling through her phone. My chest tightens. Her phone. Again.“Anna,” I say, my voice low but firm.She looks up, startled. “What?”“We need to talk.”Her expression hardens immediately, and she puts her phone down on the nightstand. “About what?”“You know damn well what.”She crosses her arms, her defensiveness a barrier I know all too well. “If this is about me not talking to you much lately, maybe you should look in the mirror first.”That sparks something in me a simmering anger I’ve been trying to suppress for days. “Oh, so this is my fault now?”“Well, you’ve been distant, Damien! You come home late, barely say a word to me, and act like I don’t even exist. What do you expect me to do?”I take a step closer, my voice rising. “Don’t you dare put this on me? You’ve been avoiding me first! Don’t think I haven’t noticed you shutting me out, glued to your phone like it’s the only thing th
DAMIENThe tension in the house is thick enough to choke on. Anna and I move around each other like ghosts, existing in the same space but never really crossing paths. She barely looks at me, her silence a sharp blade that cuts deeper with every passing hour. I tell myself to give her time, but patience has never been my strong suit.It’s late evening when I walk into the living room and find her curled up on the couch, her phone glued to her hand. She doesn’t glance up when I enter, her fingers flying across the screen. I wonder who she’s texting so eagerly, but I push the thought aside. I don’t want to be the paranoid husband.“Anna,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.“Hmm?” she murmurs, not looking up.“I’m ordering dinner. Do you want anything?”“I’m fine,” she replies, her tone clipped.I nod, even though she doesn’t see it, and walk into the kitchen. The tension is unbearable, and I feel like I’m suffocating in my own home. I’ve tried to bridge the gap between us, but ever
ANNADamien comes down the stairs, his steps steady and deliberate. I’m sitting at the dining table, scrolling aimlessly through my phone. He stops in the doorway, his presence filling the room even before he speaks.“Morning,” he says, his voice soft but edged with something I can’t quite place.I glance up briefly and mutter, “Morning,” before returning my attention to the screen.“Any plans for today?” he asks, trying to sound casual.“Not really,” I reply, my tone clipped.He pauses as if waiting for me to say more, but when I don’t, he pulls out a chair and sits across from me.“Anna,” he says after a moment, leaning forward slightly. “What’s going on?”I don’t answer right away, pretending to be engrossed in my phone.“Don’t do this,” he says, his voice firmer now. “If something’s bothering you, just tell me.”I sigh, finally looking up at him. His eyes are searching mine, filled with an earnestness that makes me uncomfortable. “It’s nothing, Damien. I just need some space.”“Sp
ANNAThe phone feels heavy in my hand as I stare at Lola’s contact picture. It’s been weeks since the wedding, and though we’ve exchanged a few texts here and there, I haven’t seen her in person. She’s been busy with work, and I… well, I’ve been too caught up in the whirlwind of emotions and confusion that is my life with Damien.I hesitate for a moment, chewing on my bottom lip before I finally hit the call button. The line rings twice before her familiar, cheerful voice answers.“Hey, Mrs. Donovan,” she teases. I can practically hear the grin in her voice.“Lola,” I groan, rolling my eyes even though she can’t see me. “Don’t start.”She laughs. “Fine, fine. What’s up? It’s been a minute.”“Can you meet me during your lunch break?” I ask, my voice a little more urgent than I intended. “There’s… a lot I need to talk to you about.”There’s a pause on her end, and I can tell she’s trying to gauge how serious I am. “Are you okay?” she asks, her tone softening.“I will be. I just… I really
ANNAI’m sitting in the living room, scrolling through my phone, mindlessly flipping through photos when I see a notification at the top of my screen. My heart does a small flip as I recognise the name. Nicolas. The guy I met briefly on my honeymoon in the Maldives. I almost laugh at the thought—it seems like a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been a few weeks.“Hey, Anna! I just thought I’d check-in. Hope you’re doing well!”I bite my lip, trying to decide how to respond. Nicolas and I didn’t have any deep connection; it was just a friendly conversation on a beach, a passing encounter. But still, something about him was refreshing, a carefree energy that felt like a brief escape in the middle of everything. I decide to respond, keeping it light and friendly.“Hey, Nicolas! I’m doing well, thanks for checking in. How about you? Still, chasing sunsets in paradise?”A minute later, his reply comes through. “Haha, yes, still living the dream! Life’s good here. Let me know if you and