LOGINViolet's world just changed and she's not the only one. After caught fleeing on the day of her arranged marriage, Violet must now live with her future husband, Leo Whitlock. As Violet deals with her parent's death, Leo is pressured to convince her to marry him. They soon find themselves seeking comfort in each other's company, but their family secret's might block out any warmth. Love will bloom, weeds will perish and a cold day might end them all.
View More(Third Person POV)The gentle warmth of the sunlight danced across the pale complexion of Violet’s dress. The white silk of the gown morphed into lace around her arms and neck. Her dark wavy hair, now cut shoulder length, was adorned with small purple flowers speckled throughout and meticulously secured. “Ms. Bennet, it’s time,” an older looking woman informs Violet from the doorway. She turns to nod towards the lady before glancing back out the window, her eyes looking towards the sky.A chuckle escapes her as deja vu sets in before being quickly ejected from her mind. Their wedding venue was located at a beautiful hotel near a quiet beach with plenty of space for an outdoor party. Leo had insisted that Violet choose where she wanted and he would make sure everything was perfect.A small smirk crosses her face before swiftly shifting into a genuine smile of contentment. Violet clutches her bouquet as she slowly proceeds towards a pair of large double doors.With the start of the mu
(Violet's POV) Walking down the gravel path of the gardens was almost nostalgic as I took my sweet time in approaching the pond area. Suspicious Leo had vanished shortly after our loving exchange with no hint as to where.All the mansion staff seemed to be in on some big secret as they giggled upon every passing and quickly shooed me out the house at sunset. Being curious was an understatement as I wasn’t sure what to expect from this unpredictable man. The leaves rustled as my shoulder brushed a low hanging branch upon passing under the arch of the corner garden. The dark of the night was almost unnoticeable as the entire area was lit up by various lanterns and glowing string lights.Tables covered in absolutely delectable pastries were scattered about the open scratches of grass as the large tree was coated in dangling stars. Amongst the elaborate decor was a dahsing looking Leo dressed in a white tuxedo. In his large hands was the unreasonably heavy book that was now wrapped in a
(Violet's POV)As the weeks rolled by and the storm finally passed, I found the strange world I had entered becoming one of healing. It took Leo absolutely no time to smoke out all the rats that had been accomplices in his father’s crimes. Whitlock Enterprises was swiftly turned around and shifted its focus from international profit to financial support and charity. Though there were many sleepless nights for the both of us, we eventually dreamt without seeing the pain of our past.However, Leo has been acting rather strangely as of late. He leaves earlier than normal for work and arrives later than usual. When I inquire about it, he assures me there is just a lot to arrange. As for me, my nightmares have stopped and the memories of my parents are no longer gut wrenching to recall. I will always miss them, but I know they would want me to be happy regardless. “Hey, love?” I hear Leo call from the library. I quickly jog over to the doorway, a piece of toast still warm in my hand.“Y
(Leo's POV)The room is barren and cold as I wait in the metal chair. Small slivers of sunlight sneak their way onto the table as I wait for the guards to return. The creak of the door signals their arrival, along with the shuffle of worn shoes.Taking a seat across from me, my father remains silent and stone faced. I take a deep breath and ready myself for any means of manipulation that he might attempt.“I’m glad you came,” he states, a tired air hanging off every word. I pause and glare across at his wrinkled pale face.“Don’t get ahead of yourself, father. The only reason I’m here is for an answer,” I grumble with unrestrained disdain. He leans back in his chair and sighs, no longer able to lecture me about anything.“And what question might that be?” father asks. We sat there a moment, the words caught in my throat.“Did mom know?” I finally inquired.“No, I made sure she never suspected anything. Though it did put a strain on us both, regardless,” he recalls. His once constant p






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