The rain fell steadily while I stood at the gallery's front window, watching the rivulets streak down the glass. My thoughts were still jumbled from yesterday's chat with Owen and the enigmatic, unfinished business of the letters. I attempted to concentrate on classifying pieces for an upcoming display, but the gnawing anxiety wouldn't let go. A harsh knock on the door made me jump. I turned to see Tyler standing just outside, his hair drenched from the rain and his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. He did not appear casual; rather, he appeared resolute, the set of his jaw indicating trouble. I sighed and unlocked the door. "Tyler," I said, keeping my tone calm. "What are you doing here?" He stepped inside, shaking water off his coat. "We need to talk." I pointed to the seating area near the gallery's back corner, directing him away from the front, where any visitors may notice us. I could sense his stress from the time we sat down. "Okay," I replied, folding my arms
As I sat cross-legged on the bed with my laptop closed next to me, unopened for hours, the calm of my room was filled with the gentle hum of the air conditioner. On the bedside table was a lukewarm cup of coffee. I was unable to concentrate on anything else as my mind swirled, entangled in a web of opposing feelings. Owen's revelation, still unfiltered and uneasy, echoed faintly. With each minute that went by, Tyler's admonition grew louder and more pointed. And his name, Caleb, kept coming back to me like a silent question mark. Is Tyler correct about him? Was there truly another side to the Caleb I knew, the one who had always come across as so confident, polished, and charming? I rubbed my temples while looking at the floor in blankness. Was I being naïve, because Caleb didn't seem like the kind to lie or take shortcuts? I began accumulating trivial, seemingly unimportant facts about him. His evasive justifications for leaving London. the vague remarks on his earlier endea
As I sat in the corner booth of the small café, my fingers were tight around a hot mug of coffee. In my mind, I kept going over what Tyler had said about Caleb. It was clear that last night's sleep for me wasn't good. When the doorbell rang, my heart skipped a beat, and I looked up, hoping Bella would hurry. She replied right away to my earlier SMS, which was almost meaningless. "Don't move. I'll be there."When the door opened again, she ran in with her bag around her wrist and half of her coat off. Even though Bella looked a little upset and had her dark hair in a messy bun, her worried eyes went straight to me. "What's wrong?" She slid into the seat across from me and tossed her bag aside, saying, "You look like you've seen a ghost." I ran a hand through my hair and admitted, "I don't even know where to start." Before I could stop them, the words came out. "That's Caleb." Bella knitted her brows together and leaned closer. "How about him? Did he do something?"Her unflinchi
I took a step back to make sure the wall frame was level before adjusting it. Except for the slight hum of traffic outside and the occasional footfall of people peeping through the window, the gallery was still today. The quiet that had descended around us was finally broken by Caleb's low, smooth voice. "You've surpassed yourself, Sam," he remarked, pointing to the colorful painting before us. "The show might be stolen by this one." He was standing with his arms folded when I turned around, looking at the piece as if he were truly enthralled. I didn't mind his compliments today, but it always seemed a bit too staged and polished. I required the diversion. "Thanks," I said, attempting to sound casual. "But you have a bias." With a subtle yet recognizable scent, he took a step closer. "Perhaps. But then, I can spot talent when I see it."Although the words were lovely, there was something strange about Caleb. He had been checking his phone all morning, frowning whenever he loo
The faint strains of instrumental jazz playing in the background blended with the gentle hum of conversation that filled the gallery. The subtle tang of paint and varnish blended with the aroma of freshly made coffee from the tiny corner cafe. A pair strolled about the room, whispering to one other and pointing to the pieces on exhibit. A pen was clicking absently against a notepad while I sat at my desk by the window. My cell buzzed and clattered on the wood floor. My stomach turned when Caleb's name appeared on the screen. I just stared at it for a while. I pushed the side button without giving it any thought, and I saw the call end up in voicemail. Even though I felt a lot of guilt, it wasn't enough to stop the doubts from eating away at me. I couldn't get Bella's remarks out of my thoughts from our café conversation: "Sam, there's something strange about him." The whispered phone conversation I heard, the rumors.. I wasn't sure if I wanted to put the puzzle pieces toget
As I stepped inside, the café was alive with activity, the perfume of freshly ground coffee beans mixed with the subtle aroma of cooked pastries. The line was long, but that was not unusual for this establishment. It had always been one of those trendy hangouts where folks huddled over laptops or caught up with friends. The sound of conversations mixed with the clinking of cups and the faint hiss of the espresso machine. I surveyed the room, feeling strangely out of place, but then I saw him. Tyler. He sat in a corner booth, dressed in his typical crisp black jacket and a white shirt with a slightly open collar, his stance both calm and tight. As I went in, his dark eyes raised and locked on mine almost immediately. There was that familiar spark of recognition, which always sent a rush of warmth through me, no matter how many times I saw him. He motioned me over, his lips curving into a faint smile. For a minute, I stood there, stuck in place, unsure if I was truly prepared
The Wills event was every bit as lavish as I expected. The massive hall of the Park Royal Hotel had been transformed into an very beautiful space with crystal chandeliers fitting the elegantly attired guests in a warm, golden light. A breathtaking view of the city skyline, with lights glistening like a sea of diamonds, was provided by floor-to-ceiling windows. Towering flower centerpieces adorned tables covered in white silk linens, their exquisite aroma mingling with the subtle hint of champagne in the air. The evening was a charity gala, a usual Wills family event, and the guests came dressed to impress. The women shimmered in beautiful dresses, their laughing bouncing off the marble floors, while the men looked brilliant in cut tuxedos. A live orchestra performed softly in the background, adding a touch of timeless sophistication to an already magnificent setting. I stood at the door, my arm linked with Tyler's, feeling out of place despite the stunning gown Bella had enc
Caleb's remarks cut through the clamor of the gala, low and methodical. "I said, what's going on here, Samantha?" I gripped my champagne flute tightly, as if the frail glass could somehow anchor me. My glance flickered to the crowd, but no one seemed to notice the tension building at the room's edge. "I don't understand," I murmured, throwing a confused tone into my voice. My words came out more steadily than I expected, but my chest tightened. Caleb tilted his head, his gaze sharpening. "You don't understand?" He made a short step forward, his glare scorching. "Do not play games with me. What's this? Wife? Tyler Will's wife? "How, Samantha?" I drew a breath, my pulse pounding against my temples. The falsehood developed before I could stop it, the words coming forth like if rehearsed. "It's not a game," I said, each syllable measured and deliberate. "I'm Tyler's wife. We've been married for years. His brow furrowed, and disbelief flashed across his gaze. "Married? Since wh
The grand ballroom shimmered under the glow of crystal chandeliers, the sound of champagne flutes clinking and murmured conversation filling the air. Samantha stood near the gallery's exhibit, her sleek black gown hugging her frame as she nodded politely to the guests admiring her work. Tonight was supposed to be about her achievements, a celebration of how far she’d come. But the unease brewing in her chest said otherwise. “Breathe, Sam,” Ann whispered beside her, leaning in with a teasing grin. “You’ve already got half the room in awe. Just enjoy it.” Samantha managed a small smile, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Easier said than done.” “Relax. I’m here for moral support. Plus, there’s an open bar,” Ann added with a wink before sauntering off. Samantha turned her attention back to a potential buyer in front of her, plastering on a professional smile. She was mid-conversation when she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure at the entrance. Daniel. Her heart gav
I stared at my laptop's glowing screen, pretending to concentrate on the email drafts in front of me. The gallery's most recent collection had been a hit; the evaluations were coming in, and new opportunities were opening up. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on my work, my mind kept wandering back to the disaster my life had become. I groaned, leaned back in my chair, and ran my hand through my hair. What'm I doing? The notion rang louder than usual, filling the silence around me. It was more than simply one thing. It was everything. Tyler. Caleb. Daniel. Each name yanked on a different part of my heart, leaving it raw and throbbing. My fingers tapped restlessly on the desk as I thought of Caleb. The way he approached Daniel and me at the restaurant, all smiles and nice words, like if he wasn't purposefully sowing mayhem in my life. I'd repeated that moment too many times, analyzing every gaze and measured pause. Caleb was not just a thorn in Tyler's side; he wa
"Caleb, could you please stop randomly visiting my gallery," I hissed, barely able to keep the anger out of my voice as I turned to face him. His presence loomed in the doorway, hands carelessly tucked into his coat pockets as if he deserved to be there."I've already told you we were done. I no longer want anything to do with you. "Do you not understand that?" My remarks came out faster than I wanted, but I was done with his games.Caleb inclined his head slightly, a sarcastic smirk creeping over his lips. "You don't mean that, Samantha.""Yes, I do." I took a step back, crossed my arms to stabilize myself. "What we had is over. Stop showing up uninvited. Stop phoning me. "Just... stop."He laughed quietly, sending shivers up my spine. "Unfortunately, I don't take orders, especially not from you."His sudden shift in tone was subtle but noticeable. The charm he had always relied on had vanished, replaced by something darker.I swallowed, attempting to hold my ground. "This is not h
The room was tight, with that smothering hush that comes only after bad news. Tyler sat at the head of the long, polished table in the conference room, his mouth clenched, his gaze fixed on the financial predictions on the screen. The numbers did not deceive. They formed a dismal picture that he couldn't ignore. "Can someone explain to me how the Hartwells managed to undercut us again?" His voice was sharp, but beyond the rage was tiredness... a man breaking at the seams. Across the table, his executive team exchanged anxious looks, with no one eager to respond. "Sir," one of the younger analysts finally said, "it appears they've secured a significant investment from overseas." It provided them with the liquidity to offer better conditions to Smith Corporation. Tyler threw his fist on the table, rattling the glasses of water in front of them. "And we hadn't seen this coming? "How did we miss this?" The head of market research admitted they did not have timely access to the
When I answered Daniel's call, his warm voice immediately relieved some of the tension in my chest. "Samantha," he said smoothly. "I was hoping you'd be free for dinner tonight." Dinner? I paused, looking at my desk, which was stacked with paperwork. However, burying myself in work hasn't done much to quiet the noise in my head lately. "Dinner sounds great," I remarked, my tone lighter than I felt. "Perfect," he responded. "I'm in the Juniper Room. It's calm and private... one of my favorites. Do you want me to come pick you up? The offer caught me off surprise; it was a simple but considerate gesture. "Oh, no, it's fine," I responded immediately. "I am still at the gallery, but I will drive myself. "I need the drive anyway." There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, his tone curious. “You sure everything’s okay?” “Absolutely,” I lied, forcing a smile even though he couldn’t see me. “Just been a long day, that’s all.” He didn’t push, thankfully, and aft
The soothing hum of my gallery filled the air as I sipped my coffee, my limbs working on autopilot as I placed the day's new items. I hadn't had time to catch my breath since yesterday's press frenzy.Everyone was still talking about their collaboration with Daniel's company. I should have been overjoyed, but instead I felt a peculiar heaviness. Maybe it was Ann's teasing call last night, or the countless queries about Daniel that flooded my inbox this morning. Or perhaps it was the familiar tug on my chest. The one who said Tyler's name when I didn't want to hear it. I shook the notion away and concentrated on the painting in front of me, changing the angle on the easel. My gallery, Artistry Heights, was my haven. Nothing could affect me here, or so I thought. The bell from the front door shocked me. I turned to greet the customer, but my heart dropped as I saw him. Tyler. He stood just inside the door, his tall figure rigid and his jaw set in an unsettling way that ma
I extended my arms above my head, wincing as my back protested the hours I'd spent crouched over my laptop. The quiet hum of the city filtered through the window, a constant reminder of the life that still thrived beyond Ann's apartment. The room was dim save for the brightness of my screen and the digital clock in the corner, which read 12:43 AM. My workspace was chaotic, with half-empty coffee cups, sticky notes with reminders, and a stack of sketches that needed to be finalized for an upcoming gallery assignment. I needed a distraction. The option was to let my thoughts drift back to Tyler. To Julia. Hello to everyone. God, I had been willing to give him another chance. Despite his aunt's harsh remarks and the mountains of baggage between us, I was prepared to try. But he'd shattered that fragile relationship with a truth I couldn't ignore: he was still sleeping with her. The notion twisted in my chest, harsh and cruel. I shook my head and concentrated on the image, r
"I'm going to kill you for this," I shouted into my phone as I paced near the door to Artistry Heights Gallery, my small haven that felt too huge to fill tonight. The clean area shone under warm golden lighting, with every nook perfectly displaying the handpicked designs I'd spent months creating. "I'm sorry!" Ann's voice crackled across the line. "There was traffic, and I had to stop for gas…" "You know I hate showing up to these things alone." I adjusted the neckline of my midnight blue gown, the fabric stroking across my skin as if it could soothe the anxiety churning inside me. "Please hurry up. "I am starting to feel like a stray dog at a purebred gala." "You'll be fine," Ann reassured me, her voice full of false confidence. "Just channel that CEO energy you always bragging about. "You got this!" Before I could respond, the call went dead. Typical Ann. I sighed, squared my shoulders, and walked into the center of the networking event. The gallery was humming with act
Tyler slammed the conference room door behind him, sending reverberations through the office's quiet hallways. His chest heaved as he leaned against the wall, placing his hands against his temples. The meeting with Smith Corporation had been disastrous. Every word exchanged seemed like another brick crumbling from the flimsy wall that held his firm together. The Hartwell family. The Hartwells were circling like vultures, and Tyler's stomach churned at Smith Corp.'s shaky commitment to their alliance. He could feel the weight of each decision on his shoulders. If they lost the Smith deal, it would cause a domino effect, and he wasn't sure RindCorp would survive. His phone buzzed in his pocket, so he took it out, expecting a message from Ben. Instead, there was an email with a synopsis of their present financial situation. Tyler opened it, but the figures blurred together, leaving him unable to focus. He exhaled sharply, his throat tightening as frustration clawed at him. "Mr