[Deric]Did Lincoln just say wife? He married Arella? He married that vile woman?!But how—and why? My head throbs as I wince, picking myself up from the cold, unforgiving floor. The faint scent of coffee lingers in the air, but it does nothing to soothe the sick feeling pooling in my chest. The thought of that wench married and happily pregnant is a bitter pill to swallow.Running a hand through my hair, I pick up my rumpled jacket. My face stings, each throb a sharp reminder of the punches I endured. The ride back to my place feels endless, the city flashing by like ghostly taunts. I'd driven alone, hoping to get rid of that wench and get back to my sweet Vivi on time, but it looks like fate has other plans.Dread claws up my spine. Nobody messes with Lincoln Sawyer and gets away scot-free. Behind his gentlemanly behavior lies a beast, just waiting for the right opportunity to shred his opponent to pieces.The familiar warmth of my apartment does little to comfort me when I st
[Arella]The dining area is bathed in soft sunlight pouring through tall glass windows, reflecting off the polished marble floors. I sit at the expansive wooden table, its surface gleaming under the light, with a small plate of sliced apples in front of me. I'm alone at the table, Lincoln had told me last night that he wouldn't make it for breakfast because of a board meeting.My stomach feels hollow after throwing up–yet again, and I bring a an apple slice to my mouth, hoping its sweetness will settle me.The butter–sweet, tangy taste soothes my taste buds, momentarily easing the nausea twisting in my gut. It’s still my first trimester, so tell me why the only thing I can enjoy in the morning without throwing up is mayo-covered apple slices. Heaven knows what my weird cravings will be like as the months come along. “Need more apples, my dear?” Rita’s warm, maternal voice floats over from the kitchen area. She moves toward me with a concerned smile.I shake my head, rubbing my tu
[Arella]“Oh please, you don’t have to call me that,” Bridget giggles, her voice light and melodic as she leads me to our favorite spot at the back. The warm, familiar ambiance of Morty’s wraps around me like a cozy blanket.I wonder if Morty, the owner, still works here. He was already quite old back in college, with a twinkle in his eye and stories that could fill a library.“But I do, Your Highness,” I tease, lips curving into a playful smirk, and Bridget just shakes her head, her cheeks flushing faintly.I’m not joking, though—Bridget is a real-life princess of a small Scandinavian country in Europe, though she’s always been more down-to-earth than royal.We sit, settling into the worn but inviting leather booth. Our orders are taken by a cute little girl on rollerblades. Cliché, I know, but it’s charming, like something out of an old movie.Feeling my hands being clasped by Bridget’s soft, slightly cool fingers, I look up. Her baby-blue eyes glisten with unshed tears, reflecti
[Lincoln]“Welcome home, Mrs. Sawyer,” I say, my voice calm yet firm, startling Arella as she turns to see me seated on the dark leather couch, illuminated only by the soft amber glow of the fireplace. The large living room seems even bigger in the dim light, with the fire casting moving shadows on the marble floor.The staff retired to their quarters early today because I wanted to spend some quality time with my wife.Imagine my shock when I didn’t see her home—no texts, no calls. I went a little paranoid—not that she needed to know that, though.“Heyy…Lincoln,” she replies in an awkward voice, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the strap of her handbag.My lips twitch, and I fight back a smile.I’m supposed to be angry, but I guess I can’t—not when she looks like an adorably stunned hamster, her wide eyes shimmering under the soft light.Keeping my voice flat, I continue with a practiced stoic face, “The driver tells me you declined his offer to take you out.” My tone is even,
[Arella]The dim light from the bedside lamp fills our cozy bedroom with a soft, golden glow. The air smells faintly of lavender from the candles on the nightstand filling the silence between us. Lincoln’s shoulders slump, and my heart drops for some reason."I'm sorry," the words come out as a whisper, barely audible."You don't want to work with me?" His voice is low, tinged with disbelief.Deciding against lying, I nod truthfully, and he chuckles sadly, the sound hollow and distant."Can I at least have a reason? You declined it without going through it all" His gaze is steady."It's not what you're thinking, Lincoln. It's just that…it wouldn't be right handing me the position of Chief Officiating Officer of Sawyer Group," I explain, feeling my fingers tremble slightly."With your numerous qualifications, nobody would say a word even if I make you the CEO, Arella. Tell me the real reason." His voice tightens just enough to make my chest constrict.I swallow, reaching out to hold
[Lincoln] "I wanted to see my wife," I reply, unashamed. Arella rolls her eyes. "You saw me this morning," she retorts, her tone clipped but playful. I shake my head slowly, holding her gaze. "Doesn't matter. Had lunch yet?" She flushes, her lips twitching with guilt. "Would you believe a yes?" "I wouldn't," I reply, my jaw tightening at her carelessness. "Get in," I command firmly, my voice leaving no room for argument. "What? Now? I’m at work, you know," she protests, exasperated but already moving toward the car. I give her a pointed look. With a resigned sigh, she slips into the passenger seat, smoothing her skirt with jittery fingers. Reaching into the back seat, I grab the small flask of food and place it in her hands. Her eyes brighten instantly, a spark of joy softening her tense features. "You got me food?" she asks, her voice rising with surprise. "Hmm." I hum, savoring her reaction. Before she can say more, I grab her chin with controlled intensity and press my li
[Arella]The weekend rolls by, and despite how drained I feel from my first week at Chanax, I’m excited to see my sister again.The car pulls up, its engine purring softly as it comes to a stop. Without waiting for Lincoln, I push the door open and step out, my shoes crunching against the gravel.“Careful,” he says behind me, his tone carrying a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. I don’t even have to turn around to know he’s shaking his head at me.The camp air wraps around me, warm and inviting, with the faint scent of pine and freshly turned earth wafting through the breeze. The soft hum of nature fills my ears, broken only by the occasional chirping of birds. Beautiful birds flit between the trees, their bright colors streaking against the dense greenery.Tucked away in the busy city, this camp feels like a sanctuary—a place of hope for children with MDD. My heart swells at the thought of seeing Ava again, of being able to hold her.“Ava!” I squeal, excitement bubbling in
[Arella]Turning my worried eyes away from Ava, who looked like she'd seen a ghost, I turn to none other than Deric. The air feels thick, like something heavy is about to drop, and it settles in the pit of my stomach. I swear, it’s like fate is always playing a cruel joke on me, making me cross paths with this scumbag at the worst possible time.I scoff immediately, the sound sharp and biting, as I feel the blood rush to my face in anger. "Why can't I be here? Is the mall yours?" He smiles smugly, his lips curling into a mocking grin. "I should be asking you this same question. I'm here to get an engagement ring for my soon-to-be wife, Vivian."He emphasizes her name like it’s some kind of victory. Like I should care. “Not like you would know anything about that”, he adds, the jab aimed right at me…I don't even know if I should call this a jab though, seems pathetic.My smile turns brighter, forced but sharp. "Well, my husband closed down the mall for today. It'd be in your best in
[Kendall]My pulse races, anticipation thrumming through me like a live wire, and he watches me with a smirk that’s both reassuring and maddeningly confident. His eyes are dark with desire, but there’s something else beneath the surface, something I can’t quite place.“You’re so beautiful, Kendall,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need. He slides a hand down my thigh, the roughness of his fingertips sending shivers along my skin, as if he’s marking me, leaving traces of his touch everywhere. My body trembles under the weight of it, a hunger igniting deep inside.His words send a strange, warm ache through my chest, and I reach up, pulling him back down to me, desperate to feel his weight, his warmth, against me. The heat of his body presses into mine, each inch of him a reminder of how badly I’ve wanted this, how long I’ve been fighting this pull between us. His breath, hot and ragged, dances across my neck as he moves, making me dizzy.He cups his hand against my pussy, and the heat
[Arella]Vivian turns to face me, her eyes widening in shock. Her blood-red lipstick falters slightly, though she quickly schools her expression. She’s dressed to impress, wearing a fitted white blazer with gold accents and matching high-waisted trousers, her stilettos clicking nervously against the tiled floor. Her sleek, chestnut-brown hair falls perfectly over her shoulders—too perfect, too practiced.“A-Arella?” she says incredulously, her voice trembling just enough to seem genuine. “What are you doing here?”I arch a brow, my pulse quickening—not with fear, but with simmering resentment. Her audacity still manages to surprise me.“I should be asking you that, Vivian,” I snap, keeping my voice cold and steady. “Haven’t you already been informed that we do not wish to work with Ames Finances?”The flicker of embarrassment in her eyes is brief before she recovers, her expression hardening.“And what gave you the right to turn down Ames Finances?” she prods, her voice sharp. Gon
[Arella]"I'd gladly bring you to Nevada next time, even if you don't have a doctor's appointment. You really seemed to enjoy yourself," Lincoln says, his deep, smooth voice carrying a teasing undertone as he leads me out of his Bentley. The cool evening air brushes against my skin, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth inside the car. His hand rests on my lower back, steady and protective.We spent the weekend in Nevada, indulging in a world that felt distant from reality, only landing this evening. It's a weekday already. Bridget's gonna give me an earful for vanishing like that. "I'd like that," I say, meaning it more than I should. His lips curl into a slow, satisfied smile that makes my heart lurch, traitorous as ever."Or we could go somewhere more exotic for our honeymoon," he whispers that last part just for me, his breath grazing my ear like a forbidden secret.The mansion looms before us, grand and imposing, its towering pillars gleaming under the soft glow of garden lights
[Deric]"What do you mean you're canceling the deal? This is unacceptable, I–hello? Hello?!""Fuck!" I snap, slamming my fist against the polished oak conference table, the sharp sound reverberating across the room. The board of directors seated across from me flinch, their faces pale and tense."Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" My breathing quickens, chest tightening. "We're losing everything! How did this happen?" My voice cracks with desperation."W-we have no clue," one of the men stammers, beads of sweat gathering at his temple. "It's as if we're intentionally being blacklisted by some force."His words send a chill down my spine. Blacklisted? By who? Why now?"What does that even mean?" I respond sharply, my voice cutting through the stifling air. "This issue isn't confined to San Diego—our suppliers and recruits are terminating contracts across the entire state of California!"How is it possible that no one wants to work with Ames Finances? The company I built with blood, sweat, and ruthles
[Lincoln] "W-what?!" Arella lets out a startled gasp. "H-how did it happen?" "I don't know," I say, trying to keep my cool despite the storm brewing inside me. "I'm going to need you to calm down, baby. Can you do that for me?" "Lincoln…" she starts, fear widening her eyes, her breath coming in shallow pants. "Please, Ella," I plead, my eyes flicking back to the road as the car swerves dangerously. There's a large field coming up. It's fenced, but that isn't going to be a problem—not if I can help it. "Are your seat belts on?" I ask, my voice tight with controlled urgency. Her watery eyes meet mine. "Lincoln… I'm scared," she admits, trembling. The car jerks violently, nearly spinning out of control. Despite my calm façade, my head pounds with a thousand chaotic thoughts. Nothing must happen to them. Nothing. "Are your seat belts intact, Arella?" I ask again, firmer this time. She nods with a sob, clutching her seatbelt tightly as if it could anchor her to safet
[Lincoln] The ambiance of the 7-star Michelin restaurant is almost suffocatingly posh, reeking of old money and self-importance. Crystal chandeliers dangle from the high ceiling, their cold light shimmering off gold-accented walls. The faint hum of soft classical music seeps into the room, blending with the clink of fine cutlery and quiet murmurs of privileged patrons. Why Clement Thompson chose this particular restaurant for a simple lunch is beyond me. It feels like I’ve walked into a live-action display of "Who’s the Richest?" “Right this way, Mr. Sawyer.” A lady with a crisp British accent, dressed in an immaculately tailored suit, leads me through the maze of lavishly decorated tables to a private room. The air is thick with the scent of aged wine and freshly baked bread. Seating in front of Mr. Thompson, I relax my posture, though every instinct tells me to be on guard. His sharp, calculating eyes study me like I’m both a challenge and a prize he intends
[Arella]The hot summer sun beats down, its harsh rays bouncing off Mr. Malcolm's bald head. I sit up straighter, tilting my head to avoid the glare coming through the open window. The office feels warm, with the AC struggling to keep the heat at bay.“What is the matter, Mr. Malcolm?” I ask calmly, masking my irritation.“Oh, please, cut that bullshit, young lady!” he snaps, his voice sharp and abrasive, echoing through the quiet office.I arch a brow, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Funny how bold he is now that Bridget is out on business. His audacity is as suffocating as the humid air hanging heavily in the office.“I'll ask again, Mr. Malcolm. What is the matter?”He storms forward and slams a crumpled piece of paper on my desk, his thick fingers trembling with barely restrained rage.“This! This is the matter! What do you think of yourself, eh? That you can just come here and change the order of things? My project with the Ames finances will not be cut off the vision board,
[Arella]Turning my worried eyes away from Ava, who looked like she'd seen a ghost, I turn to none other than Deric. The air feels thick, like something heavy is about to drop, and it settles in the pit of my stomach. I swear, it’s like fate is always playing a cruel joke on me, making me cross paths with this scumbag at the worst possible time.I scoff immediately, the sound sharp and biting, as I feel the blood rush to my face in anger. "Why can't I be here? Is the mall yours?" He smiles smugly, his lips curling into a mocking grin. "I should be asking you this same question. I'm here to get an engagement ring for my soon-to-be wife, Vivian."He emphasizes her name like it’s some kind of victory. Like I should care. “Not like you would know anything about that”, he adds, the jab aimed right at me…I don't even know if I should call this a jab though, seems pathetic.My smile turns brighter, forced but sharp. "Well, my husband closed down the mall for today. It'd be in your best in
[Arella]The weekend rolls by, and despite how drained I feel from my first week at Chanax, I’m excited to see my sister again.The car pulls up, its engine purring softly as it comes to a stop. Without waiting for Lincoln, I push the door open and step out, my shoes crunching against the gravel.“Careful,” he says behind me, his tone carrying a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. I don’t even have to turn around to know he’s shaking his head at me.The camp air wraps around me, warm and inviting, with the faint scent of pine and freshly turned earth wafting through the breeze. The soft hum of nature fills my ears, broken only by the occasional chirping of birds. Beautiful birds flit between the trees, their bright colors streaking against the dense greenery.Tucked away in the busy city, this camp feels like a sanctuary—a place of hope for children with MDD. My heart swells at the thought of seeing Ava again, of being able to hold her.“Ava!” I squeal, excitement bubbling in