Mason betrayed Arabella during three years of marriage. Her feelings were in tatters, but there was still something she could do: revenge. To get back at her unfaithful husband, Arabella went to a nightclub and slept with (what she believed to be) a prostitute. But the truth was far from it. The man Arabella approached that night was none other than Damon Banks, the most powerful man in the city. And after a night with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, Banks became obsessed. He wanted her, and he would have her. Arabella was about to receive a proposal: to be Damon's woman. She just didn't know that he didn't accept being refused. "I'm a married woman. Don't you dare propose that to me!"
View MoreThe cold rain outside seemed to intensify the warmth emanating from the crackling fireplace. Arabella nestled herself closer to the flickering flames, her mind consumed by the storm of thoughts swirling within her."Here," Damon's voice, soft and soothing, broke through her reverie. He offered her a steaming cup, his eyes reflecting a silent understanding."Thank you," Arabella murmured, accepting the cup with a small, grateful smile. Though she held it in her hands, she seemed more drawn to the comfort of Damon's presence than to the warmth of the drink.As Damon settled beside her, Arabella felt a hesitant longing stirring within her. She turned towards him, their eyes meeting in the flickering firelight, and in that moment, words seemed unnecessary. There was a silent communion between them, an unspoken understanding of shared pain and solace.Without a word, Arabella leaned into Damon's embrace, seeking refuge from the tempest of emotions raging within her. His arms enveloped
ONE YEAR LATERThe atmosphere was as funereal as the situation itself. The sun hadn't visited that part of the city since the previous day, as if it were also in mourning. Heavy clouds and timid splashes of rain were present, which only made the day seem less happy.A white tent chapel had been placed in the mansion's garden. It was a large space, enough to accommodate the thirty people present. The dark wooden coffin was centered in the chapel, open so everyone could see Victor's limp, pale body.White chrysanthemums decorated the coffin. Those were traditional flowers at wakes, and they meant "Golden flower”, from the Greek.Three of Victor's friends were next to the coffin, crying softly and drying their tears with a tissue as they recalled their journey. They were long-time friends. Their suits were as dark as the sky, representing perhaps eternal mourning.That was the garden of the mansion that Arabella had bought months before. She barely had time to get used to the place.Anas
HOURS LATERAs Damon stepped into his city apartment, a heavy silence greeted him, amplified by the absence of any illumination. The darkness enveloped him like a heavy cloak, its weight pressing down on his shoulders as he traversed the familiar space. He made no move to flick on a light switch, preferring instead to let the shadows consume him, mirroring the desolation that gnawed at his insides.Approaching the drinks table, he reached for a decanter, his hand moving with practiced precision as he poured himself a potent measure of whiskey. The liquid glimmered faintly in the dimness, casting fleeting reflections against the polished surface of the glass. With a solemn sigh, he lifted the drink to his lips, the fiery liquid igniting a dull ache in his chest as it slid down his throat.Leaning against the window, he gazed out at the city sprawled before him, its towering buildings reaching up towards the inky sky like silent sentinels. The nocturnal metropolis seemed to pulse w
The interior of the vehicle was permeated with Banks's scent. He wore an excessively good perfume, not exactly strong, but rather striking. It was the kind of smell that only a person with a lot of money would have.The door was closed, and because she was in a complete trance, Arabella was scared. Christopher wisely remained outside so that he would not hear the conversation.Banks, with her naturally dark charm, twirled the ring on her middle finger while pretentiously ignoring Arabella. His gaze was directed forward, but so far away that it did not even seem like he was in that country.The woman moved closer to the door, as if it were possible to merge with the car. Damon noticed the movement, but did not bother to assure her that she did not need to be afraid. Because maybe she needed it."Everything is fine with you?" Arabella whispered so quietly that she wasn't sure she was heard, even with all the silence that surrounded them.Damon remained silent, and then he sank deeper in
And with that, everyone burst into prolonged applause. Some even stood up, but no one really knew the intention behind the speech. All that was left was for him to say Arabella's name, with each letter."Thank you all for coming. And if it's not too much to ask, be loyal. do not love me, but be loyal" Damon walked away from the pulpit and went down the stairs as he had gone up; ignoring all the eyes on you.In turn, the master of ceremonies returned to say a few words. "I am flattered by the opportunity to hear you, Mr. Banks. Now, for the entertainment of our audience, I would like to call to the stage Mr. Landwy, the evening's violinist."Arabella waited until the first chords of the violin sounded before muttering something to her father and standing up. People did not notice when she walked in long strides to the bathroom, as at this moment wine glasses began to be served throughout the room.Arabella thought that she could take refuge in that luxurious environment for the rest of
TWO DAYS LATER. NEW YORK.The dress shone when the few lights that filtered through the window touched it. The fabric was thin, sliding across the white skin with each subtle movement. The blue silk was a pure, almost innocent tone.Arabella was sitting in the backseat of the Bentley, and, next to her, Victor was also watching the view of the New York streets as the car passed through them. They were silent, as on many other occasions, but they were not uncomfortable. At least not with each other.Victor's treatment was having some effect. The best doctors in the city were taking care of him, at Damon's request, paid for by Damon.The father wore a tuxedo, the daughter wore a beautiful sky blue dress, along with long gloves in the same color. Her brown strands were tied into a high bun, with a few curls perfectly curled and loose.And when the car stopped in front of the Banks Nouveau building, the lady felt her hands sweat inside her gloves. There were countless photographers outside
Banks took a deep breath. Their brief moment of silence was enough to make Colton and Spencer's hearts race."You are up to your neck in this story, but she's not. Arabella's the only good part of this whole shit. Think about that before you backtrack," Spencer muttered, just in case.And to say those words did not reach Banks would be a lie. He felt them as if they were punches to his face, but he knew how to pretend to be careless. Because, deep down, maybe he agreed."I do not usually go back"Damon, seeing that the conversation had come to an end, turned his back to the inspector. He even glanced at Colton. Banks made a subtle sign with her index finger and the security guards returned to the car."But in any case, when you decide to join people in destroying me, find stronger allies" he muttered before entering the door that his driver kept open.The first car made a subtle maneuver inside the warehouse and slid out, followed by the second.And then, just then, Colton approached
TWO DAYS LATERThe lights of New York were known throughout the world. The city awakens, with people bustling around and never, ever stopping. It was a place famous for everything it showed, but few people knew what New York was hiding. Few knew the shadows of the most illuminated city in the world.The shadows were in the suburbs, in isolated areas that not even the sun could reach. Where the streets were muddy, buildings were abandoned and people cried without hope.In a less busy area, where the asphalt ended and the dirt streets began, there was an abandoned warehouse. It was an unfinished building, with exposed bricks and half-shattered pillars.The smell from the warehouse was unsanitary.Dust had dominated the four corners of the room, and everything that was there was abandoned. There were crates at the ends of the warehouse, covered with a dark, dirty tarpaulin.Spencer Davis was in the warehouse, sitting in a chair almost as old as the one he had in his office. Behind the ma
SOME HOURS LATERWith a graceful stride, Arabella entered the conference room, commanding attention in her ensemble — an elegant green dress complemented by sleek heels. Her hair, neatly pinned back, accentuated her sharp features, and as she walked, there was an air of confidence about her."Good afternoon, gentlemen," she greeted, her voice carrying a polite tone subtly infused with determination."Miss Collins," Louis Tompson, the lawyer, rose from his seat upon her arrival, extending his hand in a gesture of sympathy. "My condolences for the divorce?"Arabella's response was swift and resolute. "Not at all," she declared, dismissing any notion of condolence.Seating herself across from Mason, with Tompson positioned at the head of the table, Arabella's eyes met Mason's with a mixture of disdain and relief. Gone was the power he once held over her — she was free now, and she made sure he knew it."Now, the purpose of this meeting is to align the restructuring of the companies," th
ARABELLA COLLINSI still wanted to save my marriage.It was late at night, and I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart as I made my way to the room, the soft silk nightgown clinging to my curves with a gentle caress. The delicate fabric felt like a second skin.The cool breeze whispered against my bare skin, making me tremble. With a determined spirit, I urged myself forward, pushing aside any fears that threatened to dampen my excitement.After all, the man waiting inside the room was none other than my husband, Mason Donovan.This nightgown, chosen with care, was meant for intimate moments like these. As I stood outside the door, I gently touched my flushed cheeks, trying to soothe my nerves.Inhaling the fragrant scent of roses that adorned the room, I knocked softly, my heart fluttering with anticipation.The door opened, revealing Mason's tall figure, but there was a hint of distance in his eyes, an unfamiliarity that saddened me. Yet, the sight of him, as handsome as a de...
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