DERRICK’S POVI couldn’t concentrate on anything that day. It was as if my mind was trapped in a loop, replaying the same scene over and over again. I had a whole lot of tasks to get through, but my thoughts kept going back to Joan. I could still see her form in my mind, crouched down and trembling, her eyes wide with fear. She covered her body with her arms in a defensive motion. When I had shouted at her, she looked like she was having a panic attack. The sight of her like that, so vulnerable and scared, haunted me. The way she had looked at me, like I was some kind of monster, had affected me more than I wanted to admit. I felt guilty. I shouldn't have snapped at her like that but I was in such a bad mood. My deals were going sour and my workers had annoyed me previously. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on her. She didn't deserve that. “Sir, are you even listening?” Santi’s voice cut through my thoughts, snapping me back to the present.I blinked, trying to focus on the disc
JOAN'S POVThe next morning, I woke up feeling sleepy and disoriented. The events of the previous night weren't clear to me but I faintly remembered someone sitting next to me. It looked like Sir Derrick. For a brief moment, I opened my eyes and saw someone who looked like him leaving but I dismissed it as part of a dream. There was no way sir Derrick would be in my room, right? I mean, what would he be doing there? I shook my head, clearing the sleep from my eyes. I remembered the nightmare I had about Jake. I remembered everything vividly - his angry face, his harsh words, and the feel of his hand striking me. The memories were all too vivid to the point that it scared me. My heart raced as the memories came into my mind. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I couldn't afford to have a panic attack now. I needed to get up and face the day.I got dressed in my uniform quickly and headed to the kitchen. I had to make amends for my absence yesterday. Ms. Sullivan and the othe
JOAN'S POVI turned to the entrance to see who had made that comment. I saw a mature and beautiful woman walking in. She had long red hair that reminded me so much of Lady Irene’s, and her clothes were lavish and elegant. She was dressed in a flowing black down and heels. Her jewelry twinkled under the chandelier light. I was in awe of her. Who was she? Ms. Sullivan smiled and immediately stepped forward to greet her.“Madame Helen,” Ms. Sullivan said warmly “Welcome back to the estate.”I quickly realized this must be Lady Irene and Sir Derrick’s mother. The resemblance was unmistakable. She carried herself with an air of importance yet there was something about her that made me at ease. She seemed very nice. “Thank you, Ms. Sullivan,” Madame Helen replied with a charming smile. “I hope everything has been running smoothly in my absence.”“Of course, Madame. Is there anything you’d like to eat?” Ms. Sullivan asked. Madame Helen waved her hand dismissively. “Please, don’t fuss ov
DERRICK’S POVThe entire day, I couldn't get Joan out of my mind. No matter how hard I tried to focus on the tasks at hand, my thoughts kept drifting back to her. It was maddening.I still felt like a fool for checking on her while she slept. Hearing her murmur another man's name in her dreams ignited a rage within me that I couldn't understand. Every time I remembered that incident, I'd literally feel my blood boil. Why did it bother me so much? She was just a maid. I couldn't have feelings for her. Could I?My emotions were all over the place, and I hated it. I'd never experienced anything like this before. Usually, I was in complete control, but Joan... Joan was different. She made me feel things I didn't want to feel. And I fucking hated it. My mother has summoned me to her playroom after I was done eating. While I ate, I had to endure the torture of Joan standing not too far away. I noticed her occasional glances at me. I ignored her, even when she greeted me. I would try to av
JOAN'S POVWhen I left Madame Helen's playroom, I came back to the kitchen to finish up my work. Ms Sullivan, Sarah and Emily left to finish up some errands for Madame Helen. I cleaned up the kitchen while they were gone. As I scrubbed the kitchen counters, my mind wandered back to Sir Derrick. I wondered why he didn't like me. Things between us were supposed to be professional so it shouldn't really matter if he liked me or not. Even at that, I just... I wanted him to and I didn't know why. Why was he so cold and mean? He gave me mixed signals. One day, he's saving my life literally and another day, he's telling me to get out of the room just because he doesn't want to be in the same space as me. What goes on in that head of his? I wish I knew. Why wasn't he like the rest of his family? His relatives were so polite and nice but he... He was different. And I couldn't help but think that there was a reason for his indifference and coldness. He seemed to have a special kind of coldne
DERRICK’S POVJoan. That woman would be the death of me. She was so.... So fucking appealing. I wanted to kiss her senseless till her lips hurt. I wanted to raise up her skirt and fuck her right there and then. The thought of her drove me insane. Being so close to her made me body react in ways I never thought it would. I was glad Santi came in when he did. If not, I could have done something I might have regretted later. I had no idea why I had these feelings for a mere maid. It didn't make any sense. As soon as Santi said the fish was in the hook, I understood the slang immediately. It meant the mole had been caught. For the past weeks, we've been having issues with our drug deals in particular areas. We wondered who was behind it so Santi and I came up with a plan. From his words, it seemed like it had worked. Santi and I walked quickly down the hallway. The air was thick with tension, and I could feel the anger radiating from Santi beside me. He had been quiet for most of the
DERRICK’S POVAfter the shoot out with the opps, we tied Justin, the mole, up and took him to my underground cellar/den for questioning. The cellar was silent, the kind of silence that seeps into your bones. I had been here countless times before to torture men, but tonight was different. Tonight, one of my own men sat in that cold metal chair, his hands bound behind him. None of my men have been here before. Justin was of my most trusted men. And now, he was a traitor.I stood at the edge of the room, watching as Santi and Ace circled him with tools in their hands. They were experts at what they did. But Justin was tough. Too tough. Even after all the pain they had inflicted, he hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t even flinched.Ace shocked him again with a taser. Justin let out a loud scream, his body trembling with the force of the current. Even after that, nothing. Justin's clothes were filled with blood. Ace and Santi had tortured him for what seemed like hours.“Still nothing?” I as
JOAN'S POVThe sun was already setting when Sarah, Emily, and I made our way to the back garden with baskets of freshly washed laundry. We wanted to dry the blankets and other thick clothes outside for a while due to how heavy they were. Emily spoke "Hey guys, I have an idea. When we're done, we should sneak into the kitchen and grab slices of cake" I chuckled "You pastry thief" Emily shrugged "What can I say? The cake is for Lady Irene and it looks delicious. I bet she'd let me have a slice if I asked but stealing is so much more fun" Sarah and I laughed. "She’s right, though. That cake did look delicious." Sarah said. When we got to the line, we began to dry the clothes. I pulled out one of Sir Derrick’s white shirts, and pinned it to the line. My mind drifted to the moment we had in his office. The feeling of his lips close to mine made my breath hitch. What would have happened if Santi hadn't come in? I wondered how Sir Derrick’s lips would taste against mine. I bet his li
JOAN’S POVThe next day, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone. Notifications flooded the screen. My phone buzzed so much I thought it might actually explode. My name was plastered across every news article, headline, and gossip column: The mysterious Joan Hathaway—The Cinderella Bride of Derrick Stonewood.It felt surreal. A part of me wanted to smile, to feel special, but the amount of hate pouring into my inbox shattered any feeling of happiness I wanted to have. I got a lot of hate messages in my Instagram message box. Don’t even get me started on the comments.“You don’t deserve him.”“Gold digger.”“He could do so much better.”And the worst—death threats.I sighed and opened Instagram, immediately setting my page to private again. The comments there were worse. I received a lot of rage from strangers who thought they knew me.A knock on the door startled me.“Come in,” I called, quickly putting my phone down.The door opened and Emily popped her head in. Her face lit
JOAN’S POVThe kiss lingered on my mind, stealing every ounce of focus I had. Derrick’s lips against mine, so unexpected, so electric—it was all I could think about as he led me by the hand into the hall. His grip was firm yet gentle, like he didn’t want to let go. My heart raced, not just from the memory of the kiss but from the interioe of the hall we stepped into.The room was breathtaking. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals scattering light like tiny stars. The elites were all here—politicians, business associates, and socialites. Women wore shimmering dresses adorned with jewels, and men were well dressed in tailored suits that screamed wealth and power. It looked like a scene straight out of a movie.Derrick stopped to speak with the governor, a man I had only ever seen on television. My awe must have been obvious because Derrick leaned in and whispered, “Breathe, Joan.”The governor turned his attention to me, and brought out his hand for me to shake.“It’s a ple
JOAN’S POVThe room was filled with activity as my glam team moved around me with their palettes and brushes in hand. My makeup artist, Sophie, leaned in to add the final touch of shimmer to my cheekbones, and I tried to hold still, but my hands were trembling in my lap. It wasn’t nerves from being in the spotlight—I should have been used to that by now. I’d walked countless red carpets, smiled for cameras, and played my part in the perfect image Derrick and I had been carefully crafting.But tonight was different. Tonight, Derrick was going to propose.The audience wouldn’t know it was fake, of course. This wasn’t just any event; it was the beginning of our contract marriage. I tried to focus on the strokes of the makeup brush, but my mind kept drifting to what tonight meant.I always dreamed of getting married—falling in love with someone who looked at me like I was their entire world. The kind of love that made my mom’s eyes light up when she talked about my dad. But that wasn’t wh
JOAN’S POVI hummed as I stitched the hem of a simple dress. Sewing always brought me a sense of peace. It was a way to center myself when the world outside felt overwhelming.A sudden knock on the door broke my concentration, and I set the dress aside.“Come in,” I called, pushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.The door opened to reveal Emily. When she saw me, her face lit up with excitement.“Joan!” she exclaimed, stepping inside.“Emily!” I got to my feet, crossing the room to hug her. “What are you doing here?”She pulled back with a huge smile “I have the most amazing news. You’ll never believe it.”I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What is it?”Emily glanced over her shoulder, as if checking for eavesdroppers, before turning back to me. “There’s someone here to see you. A fashion designer.”I blinked in surprise. “A designer? What kind of designer?”Emily grinned, practically bouncing on her heels. “Not just any designer. Hart Couture.”I froze. The name sent a jolt through
DERRICK’S POVI sat at my desk, staring at the stack of papers I wasn’t reading. Santi and Ace were talking from across me but I barely heard them. My mind was elsewhere—on her.Joan.It had been days since I’d seen her. She hadn’t crossed my path in the mansion, and as much as I hated to admit it, I missed her. The way she glanced at me when she thought I wasn’t looking, her quietness, and, dammit, even the way she seemed to avoid me sometimes.Why the hell was I thinking about her?I’d never let a woman occupy my thoughts like this before. Women came and went. They were mere distractions in my world of deals and power. But Joan wasn’t like the others. She was innocent, beautiful and …different. I couldn’t put my finger on it. And the way she’d stormed out of the dining room that night when the stripper danced on me…A feeling of guilt tightened my chest. I hadn’t cared then, but now? Now, it irritated me to know I might’ve been the cause of that flicker of hurt in her eyes. What the
JOAN’S POVFor days, I hid myself in my room, avoiding everyone and everything. I didn’t want to see anyone and neither was I in the mood to do anything.I focused on the fabric in my hand as I sewed. My fingers worked mechanically, weaving the thread into the fabric, but my mind was far from focused.Derrick.His name alone sent an ache through my chest. I hated how much space he took up in my thoughts. I shouldn’t have felt anything for him. He was cold, detached, and utterly infuriating. And yet, every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.I saw him with her. The way his hand lingered on her waist. A stripper. He acted like I wasn’t even there, like I didn’t exist. Well, to him I didn’t. I was just a pawn in the grand scheme of things.Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. I couldn’t do this to myself anymore. Derrick didn’t care about me. Our marriage, if it could even be called that, was a contract, plain and simple.So, why did it hurt so much?I stabbed the needle through t
JOAN'S POVIt was well past midnight when I slipped downstairs to the kitchen. I couldn't sleep so I decided to get a glass of milk to calm myself down. Just as I got the milk I needed, the muffled sound of voices caught my attention. I could hear a low argument coming from down the hallway. Curiosity got the better of me as it always did and I found myself walking closer. I stayed behind a pillar, straining my ears to catch every word.It was Derrick and Henry. They were both arguing about something. "You're hiding something, Derrick." Henry said "How long do you think you can keep it a secret?"Derrick’s response was calm "You have no idea what you're talking about, Henry. Stay out of my affairs, or you’ll regret it."I held my breath as I pieced together what little I could from their exchange. It was clear there was a rift between them. Just then, the sound of footsteps approaching shocked me. I ran back to the staircase, making my way up as silently as possible. Once I was in
JOAN’S POVIrene and I planned to spend the day getting our hair and nails done. I wasn’t the type to do this often. Hell, before I got engaged to Derrick, I couldn’t remember the last time I got my hair done. I usually did it myself. But Irene kept pleading for us to have a girl’s day out together. And how on earth could I say no to Irene?As soon as I stepped through the doors of the salon with Irene, my jaw nearly dropped. I’d never seen anything like this place before. The walls gleamed with soft pink wallpapers and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Everything here screamed luxury, from the fluffy chairs, to the bright vanity mirrors, the marble counters and even the stylists. Women walked around wearing robes with glasses of champagnes in their hands. They talked quietly as they were pampered by the workers. Irene noticed my awestruck expression and grinned. “I told you, Joan, this place is worth the hype. Nothing but the best for us.”“I can see that”“Don’t be too su
JOAN'S POVOne night, I accompanied Derrick to a dinner with the governor. The governor’s mansion was breathtaking. Everything here was sophisticated - the paintings, the chandeliers, the high ceilings, the wide hallway and the house itself. As we stepped through the entrance, the chandeliers sparkled above us on the marble floors. I tried not to gape but it was hard not to. I was in awe of thewhole place. It looked like something straight out a movie. Beside me, Derrick walked with confidence. His posture was straight and his expression was unreadable as always. He hadn’t spoken much on the drive over. Not like he ever spoke to me anyway. But now, as we walked through the crowd of high-profile guests, he seemed even colder. The dining room was already half-full by the time we reached our seats. As I took a look around, I couldn’t help but notice the familiar faces scattered around the room. The governor, several senators, and even the President of the United States who was seated