JOAN'S POVI sat on my bed, taking a look around my room. It was funny how much my life had changed in a few months. It's funny how things can change in the blink of an eye. The room was lavish, yet suffocating, and I often found myself feeling lost within its walls. Especially when the man I was supposed to call my fiancé kept himself as distant as a stranger. But that was the role I’d signed up for, wasn’t it? Pretend to be the girlfriend of America’s most eligible billionaire and make it look convincing.Only, Derrick didn’t make it easy. Not in the slightest.Today had been an exhausting whirl of decisions. Dresses, flowers, venues—it has taken me the whole day. I'd met up with the finest wedding dress designers and the best florists in the country. Irene had been by my side. She had been supportive as always. Her cheerful attitude helped to keep me grounded. She was good at calming my nerves, and I needed that because Derrick’s frosty demeanor had left me feeling colder than I
JONAS' POVI adjusted the tiny camera in the button of my shirt. I angled it just right before I slipped back into the dining room. Derrick and Joan were already seated. The silence between them was so thick I could practically feel it from across the room. They sat on opposite ends of the long table, hardly looking at each other while they ate. They didn't behave like a real couple. So far, there was no hint of affection, no evidence of warmth that might prove Henry wrong. Maybe he was right. Maybe this whole marriage was just a carefully constructed facade.I kept my eyes down, trying to busy myself with minor tasks as I positioned myself discreetly nearby, hoping to catch a clear shot of any interaction. Derrick buttered his toast in silence. Joan, on the other hand, stirred her tea absentmindedly. Her eyes were distant as if she was lost in thought. She looked fragile, almost vulnerable. Just as I thought I’d finally have a few minutes to observe, Ms. Sullivan appeared out of now
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
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 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 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
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 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
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