"I may have been a trophy wife, but now I'm the one holding the trophy" Agatha De Rossi, fresh out of a brutal marriage with business tycoon Nathan Richards, is ready to trade her diamonds for dynamite. With the help of her father, Aldo, the elusive CEO of NexGen, Agatha transforms from trophy wife to tech heiress with a vengeance. Manhattan's elite becomes her hunting ground as she infiltrates Nathan's world to dismantle his empire piece by piece. But a wrench gets thrown into her perfectly laid plans: Charles Campbell. Nathan's rival, a billionaire with charm to spare and eyes that see right through Agatha's disguise. Will Agatha resist Charles' allure and stay focused on revenge? Or will their undeniable chemistry ignite a passion hotter than any boardroom battle? Click now and find out if Agatha gets her revenge, her man, or maybe both.
View MoreAgatha POV:The air in the children’s hospital playroom was a chaotic mix of giggling, chattering, and the rhythmic thump of small feet against the linoleum floor. Colorful murals of cartoon animals adorned the walls, bright posters encouraged everyone to “Stay Strong” and “Never Give Up”, and a mishmash of toys lay scattered across the floor like fallen confetti. It was a world away from the sterile silence of the ICUs, but even here, the weight of illness, of childhood suffering, was a palpable presence, a shadow that couldn’t be completely erased by the bright decorations or the forced cheerfulness of the staff.I smiled, trying to project an air of carefree joy as I bent down to help a little girl with a sparkly tiara that kept slipping over her eyes. Her face, pale and delicate, was illuminated by the sheer glee of wearing a crown, her eyes sparkling with an innocence that tugged at my heart. This charity event, a fundraiser for the children’s hospital, was something I had pe
Agatha POV:“Jasmine,” I said, my voice a carefully controlled whisper, my gaze fixed on her, trying to decipher the emotions hidden beneath her usual calm demeanor. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong with Charles?”Her gaze flickered, a brief flash of something – anxiety? – before her face settled back into a mask of polite professionalism.“No, Ms. De Rossi,” she said, her voice measured, almost clinical. “Nothing has happened to Charles, not physically. It is… another kind of matter entirely.”I leaned back in my chair. The air in the office felt charged with unspoken tension, the silence a heavy weight that pressed down on me.“What do you mean, Jasmine?” I asked, my voice barely audible, my fingers tightening around my pen. “What’s going on?”She hesitated for a moment, her gaze drifting to the window, the city lights a distant, indifferent backdrop to the drama unfolding within these sterile walls. When she looked back, her eyes, usually so cold and calculating, wer
Jasmine POV:I tapped my pen against my notepad, the rhythmic click a counterpoint to the frantic pulse of my thoughts. Charles was at it again. This time, it wasn't a hostile takeover or a complex financial scheme – it was Agatha De Rossi, and as always, things were spiraling, fast.My phone buzzed. I knew it would be him, no need to even look at the caller ID. "Jasmine, I need to know everything about Nathan Richards’s finances. Leave no stone unturned!" The words, practically a command, were just a little bit too intense to be just for work, which was usually the case with Charles.I sighed, a small sound that was swallowed by the vast emptiness of my office. I’d been with Charles long enough to recognize the signs – the obsessive focus, the restless pacing, the underlying tension that radiated off him like heat from a furnace. He was smitten, utterly consumed by this woman, and it was making him… reckless."Of course, Charles," I replied, my voice a carefully modulated blend
Agatha POV:The penthouse apartment shimmered, a testament to Charles's impeccable taste and extravagant wealth. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the sleek, modern furniture, the abstract art that adorned the walls, the breathtaking view of the city sprawling beneath us.It was a world away from the sterile white walls of the hospital, the hushed whispers, the constant fear that had clung to me like a second skin.But even in this luxurious sanctuary, a knot of unease tightened in my stomach, a constant reminder of the weight I carried, the decisions I had to make, the tangled mess of my heart that I couldn't seem to unravel.Charles poured me a glass of champagne, the bubbles rising like tiny, effervescent hopes in the crystal flute. He handed it to me, his touch lingering on mine, a possessive gesture that both thrilled and unsettled me."To new beginnings," he said, his voice a warm caress, his blue eyes sparkling with a mixture of admiration and…
Charles POV:The penthouse was silent, the only sound the gentle clinking of ice in my glass as I swirled the amber liquid, the city lights twinkling below like a scattered handful of diamonds. I should have been celebrating. NexGen was on the brink, Agatha, overwhelmed and vulnerable, was falling right into my carefully laid trap.Yet, a strange unease gnawed at me, a persistent hum beneath the surface of my carefully constructed composure.My father’s voice, sharp and disapproving, echoed in my mind. “NexGen? That’s a risky move, Charles. A De Rossi company? It’s not worth it.”He’d never understood my ambition, my drive to conquer, to possess. He’d always preferred the safe, predictable path, the steady accumulation of wealth and power. He’d never taken risks, never played the game with the same ruthless determination that pulsed through my veins.A soft chime announced the arrival of dinner. My stepmother, a woman whose name I barely remembered, glided into the room."Charles, d
Agatha POV:“Agatha, you’re being reckless! You can’t just discharge yourself. The doctor said you need to rest.” Charles’s voice was a mix of concern and… annoyance? I couldn’t quite tell.I ignored him, signing the discharge papers with a flourish, my hand surprisingly steady despite the lingering dizziness, the exhaustion that tugged at me.“I’m fine, Charles,” I said firmly, my gaze meeting his, unwavering. “Really. I need to be with my father. He needs me.”“But Agatha…”“No, Charles,” I interrupted, my voice sharper than I intended. “I appreciate your concern, but I can’t… I can’t stay here. Not when Dad is…”I couldn’t finish the sentence. The thought of him, lying in that hospital bed, hooked up to machines, his life hanging by a thread, was a physical ache in my chest.“Okay,” Charles said, his voice softening, his hand gently touching my arm, a possessive gesture that both comforted and irritated me. “I understand. I’ll… I’ll drive you.”“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’l
Charles POV:The taste of Agatha’s lips, a bittersweet mix of tears and uncertainty, lingered, a phantom sensation against my own. The air in the hospital room crackled with tension, thick and heavy with unspoken words, unresolved emotions.Nathan’s presence, a ghost I thought I’d banished, hung over us, a shadow tainting the intimacy I craved. His eyes, those that mirrored my own hunger for Agatha, were a constant, irritating reminder of the past, of the bond they shared—a bond I was determined to sever, once and for all.I forced a smile, my hand lingering on Agatha's cheek, a possessive gesture meant to stake my claim, to ward off any lingering hopes Nathan might harbor.“Are you feeling better now?” I asked, my voice a carefully modulated murmur.Agatha’s gaze, usually so sharp, so focused, was clouded with confusion, her eyes darting between me and Nathan, a silent plea in their depths.“I’m… I’m not a critical patient, Charles,” she said, her voice a shaky whisper, her hand fl
Agatha POV:My head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache that pulsed in time with the rhythmic beeping of a machine I couldn't quite place. I blinked, my eyes fluttering open, the harsh fluorescent lights of… a hospital room? … stinging my vision. Disoriented, I tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness washing over me, forcing me back against the starched white pillows.“Whoa, easy there.” A gentle hand pressed against my shoulder. “Just take it easy, Ms. De Rossi. You’re safe now.”A doctor, a young woman with kind eyes and a warm smile, stood beside my bed, a stethoscope dangling from her neck.“What… what happened?” I asked, my voice a raspy whisper, my throat dry and scratchy. “Where… where am I?”“You’re in the hospital, Ms. De Rossi,” she explained patiently. “You fainted in the cafeteria. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. Just exhaustion and… well, it seems you haven’t been taking very good care of yourself lately.”Fainted? The cafeteria… Nathan. Camille's baby…The memories of
Agatha POV:The smell of stale coffee and antiseptic hung in the air, a strange mix of comfort and despair. I sat across from Charles, the plastic table a flimsy barrier between us, a bouquet of lilies wilting beside my untouched grilled cheese sandwich. He’d insisted on bringing me here, to this dingy little café across the street from the hospital, after catching me crying in the cafeteria.The news of Camille's baby, of Nathan’s daughter being born with a heart defect, had hit me harder than I expected. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly. It was more like… a painful echo of my own losses, a reminder of the fragility of life, of the dreams that could be shattered in an instant.And then there was the guilt, a gnawing ache in my chest, the constant reminder that I was somehow responsible for this whole mess, for the tangled web of pain and betrayal that had ensnared us all."Agatha, you barely touched your food," Charles said, his voice laced with concern, his blue eyes searching mi
I stood in shock, staring down at the papers scattered across the floor. Divorce papers, with Nathan's signature already scribbled on the line. He couldn't even look me in the eye as he uttered those heartless words. "You should start packing. Only take what you came with." The pounding of my heart drowned out all other sounds. This couldn't be real, it had to be some twisted joke. I searched Nathan's face pleadingly, hoping to find even a hint of remorse or regret. But his eyes remained cold and distant. "Nathan, please...we can talk about this. What happened to make you want this so suddenly?" My voice cracked with emotion. Three years of marriage, three years of giving everything to this man, and his lavish lifestyle, meant nothing to him now. He sighed in annoyance. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Agatha. It's over. I've already filed the paperwork. Now just pack your things and go." White-hot anger swirled within me now, battling with the remnants of grief and...
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