Dahlia Adams grew up in an orphanage where no one wanted to be her friend. She was sent out as soon as she clocked eighteen to go fend for herself. While working in a high-end cafe, she met Andrew Caine who offered her a contract to marry his son for a year and get a huge amount of money which she needed. The contract ended with Dahlia in love with the husband that hated her. She fell pregnant for him but he had no idea when the night happened so she kept it a secret. Now five years later she’s become a ruthless CEO of her own company and topping to rival Caines Multinationals. Things escalated as secrets upon secrets began to emerge from underground. Dahlia wasn’t a little girl anymore though. She knows what she wants and that is not Ethan Caines affection. “Let me love you. Please give me another chance to make us work.” Ethan beseeched, his eyes so soft she’s never seen them like that. “I don’t need your love, Mr. Caine. Thanks for the offer though. Have a nice day.”
Lihat lebih banyakDahlia's POV
“…I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride,” the priest announces, a teasing glint in his eyes as if he’s done this a hundred times before.
I stare at the man in front of me, my legal husband. I wait, heart pounding, for him to lean in and kiss me, but he doesn’t. He refuses to follow the priest's command. My heart sinks, not in disappointment, but in anger.
How dare he disrespect me in front of all these people his father invited to our wedding? Does he not respect his father enough to at least keep up the facade for the guests? I didn’t expect much from this cold, stoic man, but I thought he’d at least pretend.
Instead, he rushes down the steps of the altar and vanishes from the church, leaving my face burning with humiliation. He could’ve at least leaned in, touched my cheek, or something.
Embarrassed, I slowly followed him outside, my head bent, unable to withstand the eyes watching our every move. As soon as I step out, a black Aston Martin zooms off, and I know my husband is in it. My hands balled into fists, nails digging into my palms.
I'm nobody in this world. I don’t know anyone here which makes me feel slightly better.
I sense a presence behind me and turn to see who it is. It’s my new father-in-law, the man who proposed this entire charade to me just weeks ago, the man whose plan I agreed to in mere hours.
Forcing a smile, I stand there, grinding my teeth. I’ve never felt so disrespected in my life, not even when I was thrown out of the orphanage at barely eighteen. Right now, all I want is to murder my husband in cold blood, and I wouldn't regret it, not with the anger boiling inside me.
Andrew Caine, in his late fifties, has only one interested heir to inherit his billion-dollar fortune and multinational companies. His son was supposed to be married for a year before he could inherit, but he wasn’t ready to settle down, so Andrew did what he saw fit.
I had no idea it would turn out to be such a disaster. Ethan Caine might be the man who features in every woman’s dreams, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s an emotionless asshole.
“I’m sorry about him,” Andrew says, his eyes watchful. “He’s finding it hard to get over my threats these last few days. He will come around.”
“I’m sure I can handle it, sir,” I reassure him, though deep down, I have so many doubts after meeting Ethan today and seeing how truly coldhearted he is. I thought the media was exaggerating, but no, he really is made of stone.
Andrew places a hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know you can. You’re a strong girl, Dahlia. There is a reason why I chose you.”
“Thank you, sir.” I shuffle on my feet and then blurt out, “How am I supposed to get to the house?”
“My driver will drop you off. I guess the guests will have to complete the wedding ceremony on their own?” He chuckles when I shrug, blushing.
“I can’t go back in there.” I look away, the embarrassment flooding back. Damn Ethan for belittling me, for showing me just where I stand.
“I understand. Go home and rest, dear.” He gives my shoulder another squeeze before turning back into the church.
A few minutes later, the driver arrives, and I slip into the Bentley, still wearing my simple white wedding dress. As I sit on the plush leather seat, I close my eyes, trying to keep my anger in check. I cannot act like the person he expects me to be. I am not that person.
A few minutes later, we arrive at a beautifully built villa, passing through several security checkpoints. My mouth drops open, and I sit up straight, glancing around in awe.
Is this heaven on earth? Where are we? The White House?
The car stops in a parking lot, and the driver opens the door for me. My mouth remains open in disbelief until I use my fingers to close it. I stare at the building, feeling completely out of my element, this is far beyond what I expected.
I knew the Caines were wealthy, but I didn’t know they owned places that look like castles or the White House itself. Am I supposed to live in this world? Yeah, just for a year.
My legs feel like jelly as I make my way to the only entrance I can see: large double white doors leading to the mansion, surrounded by several gleaming windows. The Caines are so rich it makes me want to throw up.
As I approach the door, I realize it’s already open, so I push it and enter. Of course, I don’t need permission. I step inside slowly, keeping my eyes on my feet to avoid staining the expensive marble floor.
I glance around the living room, taking in the limited edition European furniture, the exquisite paintings, the costly glass decorations. This is just the living room. I can’t wait to explore the entire villa by the end of the day. Suddenly, I don't feel exhausted anymore.
But as I look ahead to the spiral staircase that will lead me upstairs, I notice discarded clothing on the floor, a skimpy skirt, a tank top, and panties. I gasp, already connecting the dots.
There’s a woman in this house, and I saw Ethan’s Aston Martin in the parking lot, which means… I can’t even finish my thought before a maid hurries over, greeting me and quickly gathering the clothes.
Before she leaves, I call out, “Hey, what’s your name?”
“My name is Quinn Austin, but you can call me Mrs. Austin. I’m the head housemaid here.” She looks me up and down, taking in my plain wedding dress.
I know she feels sorry for me, for seeing those discarded clothes and probably realizing that my husband might be upstairs, in bed with another woman, right after our wedding.
“Mrs. Austin,” I say, nodding politely, despite my racing heart. “Can you show me to my room?”
Mrs. Austin, a woman in her late forties, nods with a carefully blank expression, years of working for Ethan Caine must have taught her that. “This way, Mrs. Caine.”
I falter at the name. It sounds strange to think I’ll have to take the name of a man who doesn’t give a damn about me. I shake my head; things are going to have to change.
‘Mr. Caine will need to take his whorish behavior elsewhere. Not in our marital home, not right in my face,’
I thought as I follow Mrs. Austin up the stairs with tentative steps. I admire the walls with their expensive paintings, though I’ve never really understood art. I just appreciate the beauty and bold strokes.
We pass a door, and weird sounds come from within. My face heats up as Mrs. Austin pauses for a moment before continuing on. Now everyone knows what he’s doing with the woman inside, while I’m being led to my room, on our wedding day.
I swallow my tears. Is this how this marriage is going to be? I didn’t sign up for this! Andrew didn’t tell me his son had physical attractiveness but a dark heart that doesn’t beat at all. Does he even have a heart?
Once I’m shown to my room, I thank Mrs. Austin and sink to the floor, finally allowing myself to cry. I thought there would be companionship, maybe even friendship. But not this humiliation.
As I stepped out of the small cottage I had been sharing with Aiden for the past three days, I made sure to check the clearing ahead of me. I couldn't risk another run-in with Ethan, not after what had happened the first night here. He had insisted on leaving the cottage with me a few times since then, suggesting we could "have some fun" together. But I knew better. I needed to keep things simple for Aiden's sake. I scanned the area once more, ensuring the beach was deserted. I kept Aiden close as we snuck out and made our way to the rented car. The whole time, he was smiling, his little face glowing with excitement, and my heart swelled with affection. He was the exact image of his father, down to the mischievous gleam in his blue eyes. We drove to a park not far from the cottage, where I had planned a picnic just for us. I wanted Aiden to enjoy every moment of this vacation, like I promised him. I had prepared a feast: sandwiches, apple slices, grapes, watermelon, baby carrot
Ethan’s POV I found myself lying in bed, caught in a relentless cycle of tossing and turning. Sleep had eluded me for several nights, my body unable to relax, my mind too full of thoughts that I stubbornly refused to confront. For days, I hadn't managed more than two hours of rest in a full twenty-four hours, and frustration gnawed at my nerves like a dull ache that wouldn't quit. I knew exactly why sleep was so hard to come by, but admitting it felt like surrender. After what felt like hours of staring at the ceiling, I finally gave up. I pushed myself out of bed, threw on some clothes, and headed out to the private beach that had drawn me to this secluded cottage in the first place. Earlier today, I had signed a business deal worth millions, the kind of deal that should’ve made me feel like I was on top of the world. But instead, I felt… nothing. Just empty. The ocean stretched out before me, endless and vast, but tonight, even its beauty couldn’t stir the excitement or peac
Dahlia’s POV As I settled everything into place, I extended my arms wide, letting myself be wrapped up in the sun's warmth. I hadn’t taken a vacation since I began my business journey all those years ago, but here I was, finally giving in to Aiden's relentless begging for a trip to Bali. I reclined on the secluded shore of the cottage I’d booked for the week, wearing a tasteful two-piece bikini. I’d made a firm decision: no phones, no work, nothing but time for Aiden. This week was just for us, a chance to be fully present, something I’d denied myself for far too long. Aiden maneuvered his way over to me, his head coming to rest gently against my chest. A soft smile tugged at my lips. I stroked my fingers through his dark brow hair—he had inherited that from his father—then kissed his forehead. Ethan had burned away any chance of romantic notions in me, leaving my heart scarred. My capacity for affection was nearly extinguished for everyone but my son. With Aiden, it was eff
Ethan’s POV I rake a hand through my hair, pacing the length of my office with an intensity that sends my employees scattering. They know better than to cross my path when I'm like this, when I'm barely keeping the fury in check. My nostrils flare as I wrestle with the questions spinning in my mind. Finally, I drop into my chair, the leather creaking under my weight as I replay the events of the morning. I can still see her, the woman from the elevator, the one who walked into that boardroom and fought for that contract until she won. That sickly sweet smile, those bland eyes, the negotiation skills that had me rooted in place. Dahlia. She would’ve been easy to defeat if I hadn’t wanted to watch her in action, if I hadn’t been so damn curious about how far she’s come, how she operates. I was turned on, completely fucking captivated. But that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was realizing that the woman I’d been watching was my ex-wife. The woman who vanished five years
Dahlia’s POV Mr. Crowe looks completely bewildered, clearly unsure how to handle the situation unfolding before him. What does one say when two powerful forces collide over the future of your company? He takes a moment to regain his composure, then stands up and adjusts his suit with a nervous smile, clearly aware of the tension filling the room. I watch him closely, noting the slight quiver in his hand as he licks his lips. He's just realized he's holding a golden opportunity. I see it in his eyes: the gleam of a man who smells money and senses a rivalry he can exploit. Ethan and I have a history, and Crowe is clever enough to see it. He’s going to use it against us. Classic businessman… seize the advantage. “I’ve heard all your proposals,” Crowe begins, his voice settling into a more confident tone, “and they’re both compelling. I wouldn’t mind selling to either of you—your strategies are impressive.” He pauses, his eyes darting between us as the board members nod in agreeme
Dahlia’s POV "Yeah, make sure things are done properly. I’ve got the jewelry's backup on my other Mac," I say into the phone, my voice cool and commanding, cutting through any room for error. My assistant, who I've left back at the office, listens attentively as I lay out instructions, every word crisp and decisive. I'm aware of my chauffeur standing by the open door, waiting for me to step out, but I take my time. Two cars are stalled behind us, their drivers likely impatient, but I don't care. I won't be rushed by anyone, not even by the ticking clock of this meeting. I finish my call, my tone sharp, not even waiting for a reply before hanging up. A quick glance in the mirror, and I swipe on a fresh coat of red lipstick. It's time to get this over with. Today, I’m finally going to meet Ethan Caine after years of deliberately keeping my distance. I don’t know what to feel about it—anger, indifference, or maybe a hint of satisfaction. Whatever it is, I'll bury it deep. Nothin
Ethan's POVI stride down the narrow corridor to my office, glancing at my wristwatch as I go. I’ve got about an hour until my meeting with George Crowe, and although I've got more pressing issues that demand my attention, there's something about this meeting I can't ignore. An inexplicable pull that’s been gnawing at me since the invitation came through. Instinct has always been my guide, and it's rarely steered me wrong, so I decided to see it through.Settling into my leather executive chair, I unbutton my onyx Armani suit and feel the familiar weight of the fabric drape around my shoulders. My secretary, Miranda, slips in without knocking, her hips swaying a little too intentionally, a flirtatious smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She’s angling for attention, just like every other woman used to. But things have changed; I’ve changed. Even she’s noticed. They all have. No one knows why, and I intend to keep it that way. She prattles on about my schedule, her voice lilting
Dahlia's POVI shrug off my coat, hanging it with calculated precision on the rack beside the door, and stride into my office with measured steps. The sharp, deliberate click of my five-inch pumps against the marble floor echoes through the room, a reminder of the control I wield in every space I occupy. My gaze sweeps across the spacious office, the glass wall behind me framing a panoramic view of the city skyline. I make my way to the executive chair, my hands brushing over the smooth leather as I settle in. The hum of my laptop fills the silence as it powers on. Numbers flash across the screen—revenues, projections, margins—all meticulously aligned, all but one. I narrow my eyes, scrutinizing the screen. A line of data is missing. A deliberate omission, or a grave mistake. Either way, whoever is responsible will pay dearly.I press the intercom button. My voice is clipped, direct. “To my office. Now.” The line goes dead before a response can come through. I have no time for dela
Dahlia's POVI awoke to a loud noise from downstairs and immediately knew something was going on. Standing up from the bed, I quietly walked to the door and peeked outside, only to find nothing. With tentative steps, I headed to the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest.For some reason, I felt like whatever was happening had everything to do with me, even though I didn't know what it was. A chill settled deep in my bones as I moved, a terrible feeling gnawing at me.I could make out two voices; one of them was unmistakably Alice's, and the other belonged to Ethan’s younger sister, Maxine. She’d been terrorizing me all year, but only once or twice a month. She was just here a few days ago, so what was she doing back already?I wasn’t curious. I already knew that whatever chaos was unfolding downstairs would end up being dumped on my head. A sigh escaped me, but I continued down the stairs, the sound of blood rushing in my ears as my heart hammered in my chest. I knew I wouldn’t like t
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