As we walked into the mall, the cool air-conditioned atmosphere enveloped us, providing a welcome respite from the tension between us. Ethan's strides were long and purposeful, and I struggled to keep up, my palms still tingling from the touch of his hands. We entered a high-end shoe store, and the sales associate greeted Ethan with a warm smile. "Mr. Ethan, welcome back! What can we help you find today?" Ethan's eyes scanned the shelves, his gaze lingering on the designer labels. "Find her something suitable," he instructed, his voice firm but polite. The associate nodded, presenting me with several options. Ethan rejected each pair, his criticism biting. "Those are ugly. Show her something better." I intervened, choosing a simple yet elegant pair of black pumps. Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Those are acceptable," he said. As the associate rang up the purchase, Ethan's phone buzzed. He answered, his expression darkening. "I'll handle it," he said, his voice low and menac
I stepped into my sun-drenched design studio, surrounded by racks of exquisite fabrics, vintage patterns, and the soft hum of sewing machines. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of silk and lace. This was my sanctuary, where creativity knew no bounds.As a renowned fashion designer, my passion was crafting garments that made women feel like the best version of themselves. My eponymous label, "Elegance &Style," had gained a loyal following among style enthusiasts and fashionistas alike. My designs were a masterful blend of classic elegance and modern sophistication, with intricate details that told a story.My own story was one of perseverance and dedication. Growing up, I spent hours sketching dresses and watching my mother, a talented seamstress, bring my designs to life. After completing fashion school, I honed my skills working under top designers in New York and Paris. Five years ago, I took the leap and launched my own label,
After finishing Miss Smith's design, I took a short break before my next appointment. Donna popped her head in. "Rachel, your next client is here. Miss Rosalina Franchez."I smiled, standing up to greet my cousin. "Rosie! It's so great to see you!"Rosie rushed into the studio, enveloping me in a warm hug. "Rach, darling! I'm so excited to be here. Mama told me all about your latest collection."We sat down, chatting like old times. "So, tell me about Ana's wedding. What's the theme?"Rosie's eyes sparkled. "It's a vintage-inspired garden wedding. Ana wants something elegant and whimsical."I nodded, taking mental notes. "I have just the thing. Let's create a custom gown that reflects Ana's personality."Rosie grinned. "That sounds perfect. Ana will love it."As we discussed the design, Rosie's eyes kept darting to the fabrics. "Rach, I love that lace. Can we incorporate it into the dress?""Absolutely," I said, pulling out the lace. "This French Alençon lace will add a touch of sophi
As I stepped into my cozy apartment, the soft glow of the evening lights enveloped me, casting a warm ambiance that seemed to melt away the stresses of the day. I couldn't shake off the excitement of the evening's events, though - Ethan's proposal, the charity auction, and the potential collaboration with Emma Stone swirled in my mind like a tantalizing cocktail.I kicked off my heels, sinking into the plush couch with a contented sigh. My phone buzzed with texts from Ethan, reiterating the plan and assigning tasks. I scrolled through the messages, my mind racing with ideas and possibilities.As I drifted off to sleep, visions of red-carpet glamour and fashion icons danced in my head, the soft hum of the city outside my window a gentle lullaby.The next morning, I woke up to a sunny Saturday, the warm rays of sunlight streaming through my window. No design meetings or client appointments today - just a relaxing day with the girls.I arrived at Ana's house, greeted by the sound of laug
Sophie glided into the office, her gaze scanning the room until it landed on me.Her emerald eyes flashed with distaste, a hint of jealousy simmering beneath."Rachel,i have heard so much about you," she said, her voice laced with venom."I hope it's all good thoughts," I askedEthan's expression darkened, his jaw clenched. "Sophie, what are you doing here?"Sophie's smile was saccharine. "I hoped to surprise you, darling."Ethan's tone was icy. "You're interrupting."Sophie's gaze lingered on me before shifting back to Ethan. "Am I?"Ethan's arrogance faltered for a moment, replaced by irritation."Sophie, we discussed this. I have work to do."Sophie's smile never wavered. "I won't keep you long."The tension between them was palpable.Sophie's face fell, her eyes flashing with anger. "Fine. Keep your secrets, Ethan."Ethan's expression remained unyielding. "This is business, Sophie. Not personal."Sophie's gaze shifted to me, her voice dripping with venom. "I'm sure Rachel understa
"The past few weeks have been a whirlwind. Between juggling pop-up projects, parenting, and keeping my life from imploding, I'm exhausted. And let's not forget the drama-filled cherry on top - Max's confession and Ethan and Sophia's never-ending soap opera. Honestly, I want no part in it. I've worked too hard to build my reputation and meet my deadlines to let their drama derail me. That old mantra, 'Fake it till you make it,' has been my survival motto for years. So, I put on a brave face and push through. Today was a marathon. I spent hours at the office, lost in spreadsheets and reports. Before I knew it, the day had slipped away, and it was already mid-afternoon. As I packed up to head home, Ethan appeared, requesting my presence at a quaint cafe near his shop. 'Follow me,' he said, his expression cryptic. My mind began to wander - what now? That afternoon, Ethan and I sat across from each other in a cosy café near Mavericks & Co. The tension between us crackled like electr
I thought it was about time we learnt about Ethan a little bit more? It was hard to give him more character development,when Rachel doesn't want to have anything to do with him except for their partnership. But as the book progresses you will get to understand why he is like this.********************************************************************************************************ETHAN'S POV: People think being born with a silver spoon guarantees a life of ease. But they're wrong. My life as the heir to a million-dollar corporation has been a never-ending struggle.My father, the corporation's ruthless leader of Maverick's & Co, has made my life a living hell. He's constantly reminded me that I'm not guaranteed the company, that he can give it to someone else if I don't meet his expectations.But that's not even the worst part. My father's verbal and physical abuse has scarred me. I've witnessed him beating my mom, justified by his twisted belief that "women are meant to be submi
Rachel’s Pov.I woke up this morning with the heavy weight of memory pressing down on my chest. It's been fifteen years, but every year on this day, it's like nothing has changed. I still feel them, all around me—their absence. I guess grief doesn’t ever really go away; it just gets a little quieter, a little more manageable. But today, February 18th, it feels like the world has stood still, just like that moment when the phone call came, shattering everything.I didn’t want to be anywhere but there, at their graves. So I packed up the car with the flowers—golden daisies for Mom, because they were her favorite. She loved how bright they were, how they always seemed to stand tall, even when everything around them seemed to fall apart. And purple orchids for Dad. He had a thing for orchids, a quiet admiration for their grace, their elegance. He always said they were like people—you had to nurture them, but once you did, they bloomed in ways you’d never expect. I didn’t understand that u
Sophia POV :The morning sunlight filtered through the tiny curtains of my penthouse, casting a warm glow over the pristine living room. I sat on the velvet chaise, sipping my black coffee, flipping absentmindedly through a glossy fashion magazine. The faint noise of the TV in the background created a nostalgic background hum of comfort.“…Ethan Gray and Rachel Thompson spotted together again…”The phrases cut through the air like a razor. I turned to the TV, my eyes narrowing as images of Ethan and Rachel walking out of a grand event played on the screen. Paparazzi flashes reflected in their faces as Ethan led Rachel toward a car waiting for them and his hand rested as a shield on the small of her back.Rachel smiled at something he said, her expression warm, almost glowing. Ethan’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than it should have.My grip on the coffee mug tightened.They looked snug, didn't they?, chirped, the joyful voice of the entertainment broke on the air went on.
Rachel POV:I got the text from Ethan about a dinner party, and, of course, I am a huge fan of staying out of the spotlight and events, where we (more like me) dont like to socialise with the Rich and Powerful.I quickly scanned the email he sent to him:“Hi Rachel good morning, congratulations on our collaboration and also this is a reminder that I forgot to tell you yesterday that we are having a Media gathering to spread more visibility to the designs. Having a small party at Manor Hotel. Ensure you come. Thank you” I sent him a text message with a mention of coming later after I was through…The grand ballroom was full, and the air was heavy with expectation. Crystal chandeliers dotted the high ceilings overhead, showering the masses in golden light. Businessmen, investors, and journalists filled the space, all on the edge of the news of the official launch of Mavericks & Co Couture.Ethan stood beside me at the entrance, looking every bit the charismatic CEO in his tailored bla
RachelThe sound of shuffling papers filled the conference room as Ethan slid the final draft of the contract across the table. His sleeves were rolled up, and his sharp navy suit hinted at the kind of effortless confidence he exuded.“This is it, he said, his voice steady, yet something in his tone carried weight. If we just sign here, we are finally in collaboration, ” said LHP Junior Fernandez’s, Mavericks &Co Lawyer.I nodded, gripping the pen a little too tightly. Who would've thought we'd be standing here? I'm in shock," I said, doing my best to ignore the pile of papers in front of me and not the way the guy's eyes, like blue glass that vibrated, kept wandering into my skin. “It feels surreal.”Ethan relaxed in his chair, his lips turning into a partial smile. “Surreal, maybe, but we’ve earned this. You’ve earned this.”Icing over the flutter in my chest, I looked over at the contract. “Let’s get it done, then. I scribbled my name on the dotted line, feeling a mix of triumph an
There was something about the atmosphere in Ethan's office that was peculiar as Rachel approached. His piercing blue eyes were focused on his laptop screen, but the moment she entered, his gaze softened. Rachel, in a fitted pencil skirt and an emerald-toned blouse that displayed her hazel eyes, stood nervously by the entrance.“You wanted to see me? she asked, her voice steady, masking her unease.Ethan threw back in his chair and gave her the gesture to sit down. “Yes, Rachel. We are still finalizing plans for the launch photoshoot of Mavericks & Co Couture. I’ve booked a top-tier studio for tomorrow.”A photoshoot? Rachel raised an eyebrow, her “business as usual” appearance unshakable.“Yes,” Ethan said, his tone firm but gentle. “This campaign needs us to lead by example. As co-creators of this project, we’ll be part of the shoot. Think of it as showcasing the strength of the partnership behind this brand.Rachel hesitated. The idea of being so publicly tied to Ethan unnerved her.
Rachel stood outside the elegant restaurant, her heart racing. She twirled the bag strap, toying with curiosity about why she felt so worried. It was just a business dinner. Ethan had been clear about wanting to discuss the collaboration between their brands.But the memory of his protective words at the party and the intensity in his eyes kept replaying in her mind. She brought herself back from the edge of a nervous breakdown by adjusting her blazer, going through with it too, determined to bear down the emotions billowing in her chest. This was work, nothing more.The doorman greeted her with a polite nod as she stepped inside. Ethan was already sitting at one of the small tables in the corner. He rose when he saw her, a smile spreading across his face.“Rachel,” he said warmly. “I’m glad you came.”She nodded, her throat suddenly dry. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”He waved her to sit down and pulled out her chair. His gentlemanly behavior was both charming and unsettling. Rache
The playground was alive with the sounds of laughter and joy. Rachel sat on a bench, her gaze never straying far from her triplets, Dante, Damian, and Daniella, who played with uncontainable energy. For once, her mind was at ease. All of it faded, from the mystery of the box, the party gossip, to her work troubles. Here, she could just be Mom.“Dante, no climbing too high! Rachel called her voice a mix of warning and affection.“Okay, Mommy! Dante called back, waving before running off to fetch the ball he had been tossing around.Rachel exhaled and leaned back, enjoying the moment. But the peace was short-lived.Dante’s ball, propelled with more force than intended, went flying across the playground and hit someone square in the chest.“Oof!” came a familiar voice. The man reached out for a moment then recovered and took the ball again.Rachel’s heart froze when she looked up. Ethan.He looked about, searching for the owner of the ball, and came to a complete stop when his eyes met R
The morning began with an unease Rachel couldn’t shake. With a crack of the door she let the fresh air into her flat and her gaze fell on a box standing by the door. It was plain, unmarked, and oddly foreboding.Her brows furrowed as she crouched to retrieve it, tiptoeing it inside. Sitting at her kitchen table, she opened it. As soon as she lifted back the lid, her stomach churned.Inside were photographs, each more unsettling than the last.A picture of her and Ethan during their trip to Italy. One of her triplets playing at the park. Wedding photo with Michael, a memory of a scene which felt now thousands of years distant. Several photographs contained candid images of her, some obviously taken without her consent.As she touched the note between the photos, the notes of her hand trembled. It read:You'll never be able to completely hide who you are," The world will always remember you.Rachel’s heart pounded in her chest. The idea of a person meticulously collecting her life's bel
Rachel walked into the café, her head held high and her emotions firmly in check. She spotted Michael sitting in the corner, his shoulders tense as he stared out the window. For a moment, she almost turned around and left, but then she reminded herself why she was here. This wasn’t about him; it was about putting the past to rest. As she approached, Michael looked up, his expression softening. He rose to his feet, his movements hesitant. “Rachel,” he said, almost pleadingly. “Michael,” she replied curtly, sliding into the seat across from him. “Let’s get straight to the point. What do you want?” Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We need to talk about the kids. I’ve been patient, Rachel, but I can’t stay away any longer. They’re mine, and I deserve to be part of their lives.” Rachel raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “Yours? Really, Michael? That’s interesting, considering the last time I checked, you were busy sneaking around with your sec
RachelAs soon as I exited the taxi and entered the office building, I sensed the air of tension. From the lobby, I could also perceive agitated shouting and the sound of a person yelling. My heart sank.What now? I mumbled to myself while I ran for the elevator.As soon as I reached the floor, clamor rose to its peak. A middle-aged woman was seated in the center of the reception room, with several staff trying unsuccessfully to calm her. She was running a piece of fabric in the air as if it were a witness in a courtroom.“You people are thieves! The woman screamed, her voice shrill and furious. Do you think you can come and get away with it? I trusted you, and this is what I got?”“What’s going on here?” I asked, stepping forward. Each and every one of them turned around and gazed at me, relieved and with a look of terror on their face.“Rachel, thank God you’re here,” said Emma, my assistant. “This woman claims we scammed her, but”“I don’t claim anything! the woman interrupted, gla