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[NATALIE]The clinking of silverware and the hum of conversation surround me as I sit at the corner table of our favorite Italian restaurant. It’s the eve of our second wedding anniversary, and Michael insisted on dining out, even though I would’ve preferred a quiet night at home. He’s always been the social butterfly, the life of every party, while I’m the grounded one—the devoted wife who treasures our private moments, despite being a budding actress in Hollywood.I sip my wine, but there’s this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something’s off. I made an effort to dress up tonight, slipping into a red silk dress that hugs my curves in all the right places. I look amazing—everyone’s eyes linger on me, except for Michael’s. He hasn’t even looked at me properly, let alone complimented me. The ache in my chest deepens. I know our relationship has faltered despite everything I’ve done to keep it together. The spark that once made him fall head over heels for me has faded. La
I scroll through my Instagram feed, feeling my heart sink as I take in the posts. The venue—an opulent ballroom in the heart of the city—glitters under the soft glow of chandeliers. Every detail, from the lavish floral arrangements to the perfectly aligned crystal glasses, screams elegance and perfection—just as I envisioned and organized. I’ve spent weeks prepping for this day, ensuring that everything would be perfect, up until the fateful night a week ago.Now, I stand on the balcony of the adjoining building, a safe distance from the entrance, my eyes fixed on the scene below. It’s a grand affair, the kind of event that commands attention, and tonight, Mike is in his element.From my vantage point, I can see the throngs of people arriving, mingling, and exchanging polite pleasantries. They’re the sort of people you’d expect to see at events like this—high-powered businessmen, socialites, and even a few celebrities who grace the occasion with their presence. Everyone seems to be en
"You seem like someone who could use another drink," he says, his voice deep and smooth.I find myself staring into his eyes — older, confident, and dark, with an air of control that quickly makes me weak in my knees. His voice makes it clear that he’s not asking; he's stating a fact. The hint of a smirk pulls at his lips, as if he already knows what my response will be.I smile, intrigued by the unexpected interruption. “Is it that obvious?”He leans against the bar, his gaze steady, assessing me with an intensity that makes me feel like I’m under a spotlight, more than any of the other cameras ever could. “Only to those who know what to look for.”I let out a soft chuckle, glancing down at my glass before locking eyes with him again. His presence is magnetic, but there’s an edge to him that sends a thrill through me — something dangerous. I trace the rim of my glass with my finger, enjoying the tension in the air. “So,” I say, my voice dipping, “you intend to get me drunk?”His lip
“I think you should attend this event, Nat,” Meera, my personal assistant-turned-friend, says over the phone. “It’ll be a good distraction from the Mike drama,” she continues, clearly hoping to convince me. But I know all too well the questions I’d be bombarded with if I showed up.For the last two weeks, no one has cared to ask me about anything except my husband. They shamelessly beg for all the juicy details of our upcoming divorce, and honestly, I can’t even blame them. I’m the one who brought it into the public eye. Although, it was Mike’s video message that pushed me over the edge. Or maybe it was the whiskey.I don’t care anymore.Mike can burn in the deepest pits of hell for all I care. It’s almost funny now—how he didn’t even bother hiding the fact that he was cheating. All those weeks of avoiding me, throwing out lame excuses about work—I was so blind.Blind in love. Pathetic.All I want now is to disappear until the drama dies down—if it ever does—and enjoy a few peaceful d
I chuckle, daring myself to reach out and place my hand over his chest. “I don’t even know anything about you. Except your name.”Ric’s eyes follow the movement and the corner of his lips tilts up in a smirk. A sound escapes his throat — something between satisfaction and pleasure. He wasn't expecting me to do that. But he totally liked it.He places his hand over mine — warm and hard, wrapping it entirely. It’s a simple gesture but it knocks the breath out of me.God, he’s confident. And I’m only pretending.It was the whiskey, I realise with a subtle shake of my head.I’ve flirted with a lot of men — but it has never been genuine. I acted out the way the scripts wanted me to, but this… this is my first real daring experience. With Mike, there was always an air of comfort and familiarity. I knew him — or I thought I did. But I know I did understand him. However, in front of this man right here, I’m nothing but a shivering bunny.At his mercy.Ric leans in, and for a moment I’m sure h
While my intention is to kiss him softly, I should’ve expected him to be rough. Ric’s lips crash into mine, with a raw intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. Before I know it, he has lowered me to the couch with a swift move of his hand. His other hand slides up my thigh, slipping beneath the silk robe. I can feel my breath quicken, my heart pounding, as he takes control, and I let him. I’m melting into the couch, his fingers trailing higher, confident and commanding. I’m losing myself to him completely. And I’m liking it.But then, as his hand reaches for the knot of my robe, ready to undo it, a sharp thought slices through the fog in my mind—Is he married? The question slams into me, stopping everything. My body tenses, the heat I feel stalling, and Ric notices. His lips pause, his hand freezes on my chest just as I was about to tease myself, his fingers barely grazing my skin.“Do you want me to stop?” Ric’s voice is low, rumbling with restraint. His breath is hot against my
“Ric, I need you to hide!” I hiss, my voice barely above a whisper. His eyes flicker with reluctance, but he moves quickly, slipping into the hallway just as the doorbell rings again.I quickly adjust my robe, tying it tightly around my waist, smoothing my hair to look somewhat composed while trying to calm my racing heart. I can still feel the lingering heat of Ric’s touch on my skin, but now isn't the time to think about that.I open the door, and there stands my father, his face set in a stern expression. “Natalie,” he says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Why have you been ignoring my calls?”I steel myself for the conversation I’ve been dreading. For the last two weeks, I’ve avoided him, knowing exactly what kind of lecture awaited me about my ‘marital issues.’ But now, here he is, in my home, and I can’t avoid it anymore.“I’ve been busy,” I reply, forcing myself to sound casual, though I’m sure the tension is obvious in my voice.“Busy?” His eyebrows shoot u
Up until the moment I step out of the car, my heart pounds in my chest with uncertainty. What if I can’t pull this off? What if all of this is a mistake, and I end up doing more harm to myself than to Mike? What's the point of any of this? My phone buzzes again, lighting up with an incoming call from Mike, and I scoff. The man who has dodged me like the plague ever since I exposed him has been incessantly calling me for the last two days, since my dad left my penthouse. His texts insist on “discussing what to say to the interviewers,” but there's no mention of an apology. Not even a hint, no. I guess Mike has fully morphed into his businessman persona, where the only thing that matters is what’s good for his image. Emotions and feelings? They don’t exist in his world.I was his wife, wasn’t I? I still am, legally speaking—he hasn’t even signed the divorce papers yet. How foolish of me to believe, even up until three weeks ago, that this could be fixed. That we could be fixed. I had c
[Two years later]My body is slick with sweat, every nerve ending alive and tingling as Ric’s hands explore my skin. His touch still feels new, still ignites a thirst in me that has no desire to quench anytime soon. His lips trail down my neck, making me heave, making me almost lose my mind. I arch into him, my fingers digging into the muscles of his back, urging him closer. His hands roam over my body, tracing the curves of my hips, the softness of my thighs, and the sensitive spots that make me gasp with pleasure. He knows exactly how to touch me—he has mastered the art of how to make me feel alive and desired every breathing moment. His fingers find their way between my legs, teasing and stroking until I'm writhing beneath him, desperate for more.“Fuck, Ric. I love you,” I breathe, squealing. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”“You're so beautiful,” he murmurs against my wet folds before his lips capture mine in kiss so deep, I can’t tell where he ends and where I begin. He
“Elliot Jones’ Empire Crumbles: A Closer Look at the Allegations.”“The Hidden Crimes of a Business Titan: Elliot Jones Exposed.”“Mogul Under Fire? The Double Life of Elliot Jones Revealed.”“The High Price of Power: Here’s Everything You Need to Know About Elliot Jones and His Web of Deceit.”“The Case That Shook the Nation: Elliot Jones’ Alleged Crimes.”Seeing my father stand there, looking helpless, his face tight and red with anger satisfies me in a way nothing else could. Today is the day he falls, and now, he can see it with his own eyes—his empire crumbling. The delusion is gone. Mike’s voice echoes through the courtroom. “I was threatened,” he says, eyes darting nervously toward Elliot. “I kept silent because I feared for my life.”I sit beside Ric in the rows reserved for the trial attendees, my heart pounding. Ric leans in, his voice low and teasing, “I can’t believe this is happening. How did you manage to pull that off?”I give him a sly smile, keeping my eyes on Mike.
Getting into Mike's office is surprisingly easy. I thought it would be the most difficult task of all, but now, standing here, I realize just how wrong I was. Maybe it’s because I made it happen—my own actions leading to the lack of staff and security. With investors pulling out, his new business flopping instantly, and even his car gone, I wonder just how deep in debt Mike really is.I look around the office, taking in the bare walls and the lack of personal touches. It’s a cold place. It gives me a sense of satisfaction, knowing how little work must happen here. The only thing I find remotely appealing is the fireplace—if you can even call it that. It’s more of a decorative piece than anything else.The door creaks open, and Mike steps in, freezing as his hand remains on the doorknob. His eyes widen when he sees me, and I can almost hear the gears turning in his head.“Relax,” I say softly. “No need to be on alert. I have a proposition for you.”He doesn't move, his eyes darting aro
“High-Stakes Drama: Friend and Business Partner Richard Steward Fires on Business Mogul Elliot Jones in Shocking Miami Lakehouse Incident.”“Ric Steward Shoots Elliot Jones to Protect Alleged Lover, and Jones’ Daughter in Lakehouse Scandal.”“Business Partnership Ends in Gunfire: Ric Steward Wounds Elliot Jones.”“It Gets Very Real and Gruesome: Hear what’s new in the Natalie Jones’ Drama.”“Where does Michael Cooper stand amidst all this? New updated in the chaotic life of Natalie Jones. Here’s everything you missed that shook Hollywood this Spring!”The weeks that follow are difficult. And lonely. I’m thrust into a routine where I spend most of my time surrounded by lawyers, and legal jargons. It’s a lot at once, and I think I underestimated how quickly it would consume me. And with only Meera by my side who is still recovering from the traumatic event that occurred at the lakehouse, I find myself sitting in therapy sessions after experiencing several panic attacks. My days are s
The rain-soaked air clings to my skin as the police car disappears down the road, taking Ric with it. My heart feels like it's been wrenched from my chest, leaving an empty, aching void. I can barely breathe as the reality of what just happened crashes down on me.We can’t stay here. The lakehouse is now a crime scene, and the officers made it clear we need to leave. The words still echo in my head: “This area is now under investigation. You’ll need to find somewhere else to stay.”Meera stands beside me, her face pale, clutching her phone like it’s a lifeline. Matt paces back and forth, still carrying the guilt on his face. I don’t think any of us had the slightest hint of something like this going down on a trip that was supposed to heal us. If anything, it has traumatised all of us beyond repair. But, the truth is out. Dad killed Neil. And he was so close to killing me and Ric…“We need to find a place,” I croak. Even if we could stay here, I wouldn’t, not with the memories of wh
Another gunshot goes off, a millisecond later. My eyes fly open, but there’s no sensation of pain anywhere in my body. Instead, Dad crumples to the ground with a cry of pain. Panic envelopes me, muddling my mind. I can barely understand what’s going on around me. “Natalie, are you okay?” someone seems to ask, but my gaze is fixed on Dad, watching him struggle as he clutches his leg that is now bleeding with the gunshot. Then that someone shakes me by the shoulders, drawing me back to reality. It’s Meera. “Nat, please say something!” she urges, tears streaming down her cheeks. “W-What happened?” I blurt out, sounding hysterical, my chest heaving dangerously. Meera points out at the door. Matt stands there with a gun in his hand. When his eyes meet mine, his hand drops, and he falls to his knees, breathing hard. Shaking my head, I yell, “What the fuck just happened?” Meera seems to still be in her senses. She kicks the gun out of Dad’s reach. He continues to squirm, his blood st
I don’t know if I ever thought of the words I’d say to him when I saw him again after what Mike told me. But watching him stand there right now, looking smug, I know that no words will ever justify the pure rage I feel. There’s an overwhelming need to hurt him. Badly. A throbbing pain in my hand pulls me from my rage. As I unclench my fist, I see the bloody marks my nails have left in my palm.“What are you doing here, Natalie? Why come to the lake house?” Dad asks in a calm voice that has a dangerous edge to it. I feign innocence. “Why, Dad? Can’t I come take a vacation here? Considering I had a man try to nearly kill me, after I've been subject to public humiliation by my cheater husband who you’ve always welcomed with open arms?” Pausing, I draw in a breath, afraid that the anger I feel will crush my lungs. “I should be the one asking that question. Why are you here? You never cared to visit when Mom brought Neil and me here. Why come now? And why do you have my phone?”He shakes
The search of Neil’s room leaves us both drained and disheartened. I scrutinize every nook and cranny, explore every possible hiding spot. The floorboards groan under our weight as I lift the mattress, revealing nothing but dust and a few forgotten coins. Beneath the bed, there’s only a stray sock and a cobweb. The closet holds nothing but old clothes and a pair of worn-out shoes. Even the old dresser, heavy and reluctant, is moved away from the wall, revealing nothing more than a few dust bunnies and a forgotten book.We find nothing out of the ordinary—no hidden notes or mysterious objects. The futility and exhaustion overwhelm me. I glance at Ric and see disappointment etched on his face, a mirror of my own feelings. The room is a mess. Neil’s old clothes are strewn about, furniture askew, and the air thick with dust.I slump onto the edge of the bed, raking my fingers through my hair in frustration. The coolness of the room does little to soothe the heat of my irritation. “There ha
“What are you saying, Chris?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly.He sighs, shaking his head. When he speaks again, his voice is low, almost embarrassed. “I should’ve known.”I press him further. “When did they say that?”“When Anya came to me with the fake dating idea,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “She said it was… but that was a lie too. You never wanted this.”“What exactly did she tell you?” I ask, my heart pounding.He exhales sharply. “That you liked me but were too shy to act on it. And Meera, it was her who asked me to show up at your penthouse that night—before you left for the lakehouse.”I feel the ground shift beneath me. “Chris, I didn’t know they said that,” I mumble, the weight of his words sinking in.He shakes his head, disappointment evident in his eyes. “I can’t believe this. I thought I knew what was going on, but now…”The sting of his disappointment cuts deep. “I’m sorry, Chris. I never wanted to hurt you.”There’s a long pause before he finally