The grand ballroom of the Davenport estate glittered under the soft glow of the golden chandeliers, filled with the chatter of New York’s elite, swirling champagne glasses, and the lingering scent of expensive cologne and designer perfumes. Michelle Davenport stood at the far end of the hall, her delicate fingers tightening around the stem of her untouched champagne flute as she observed the extravagant event unfold before her.
It was yet another social gathering thrown by her parents, an evening where deals were disguised as pleasantries, alliances were built over expensive wine, and where she, as always, was nothing more than a decorative afterthought. The perfect, obedient daughter, unseen yet expected to exist only when needed. She was only needed whenever it was beneficial to them. Her gaze flickered across the room, scanning all the guests in the room until her eyes landed on the golden child of the Davenport family—her twin sister, Millie. Dressed in a shimmering red gown that hugged her curves perfectly and an expensive four inch heels that matched her gown perfectly . Millie basked in the attention of New York’s most eligible bachelors, flashing her signature dazzling smile that their parents adored. Their mother, Vivian Davenport, stood proudly beside her, introducing her to wealthy men as though she were auctioning off a prized possession. Millie had always been the most favoured daughter, the perfect daughter in her parents eyes, she always got whatever she wanted. Michelle sighed, already used to the sting of being overlooked and ignored . Unlike Millie, she was dressed in a simple, pale-blue gown that was elegant yet understated—chosen more for comfort than for turning heads. Not that anyone was paying her much attention and she didn't care about whatever they thought of her. She turned, intending to slip away quietly from the suffocating crowd, but then she heard her name. “Michelle?” She paused. Her father’s deep, authoritative voice cut through the chatter, making her stomach twist. Turning back, she saw Henry Davenport speaking in hushed tones with an older man in a crisp black suit. The moment their eyes met, her father’s lips curved into a small, calculated smile—one that sent a ripple of unease through her. “Come here for a moment, I want to introduce you to someone” he gestured, and she hesitated, before reluctantly stepping forward, walking towards them. The man beside him—a distinguished-looking businessman in his late fifties—studied her with keen interest. “So this is Michelle,” the man mused, his eyes sweeping over her as if assessing her worth through her appearance “Yes,” Henry said smoothly. “She would make a fine wife, don’t you think?” Michelle’s breath caught in her throat. A fine wife!! She thought. Her heart pounded as a sinking realization settled in her chest. She wasn’t being introduced to an acquaintance or a business partner. This wasn’t a polite exchange. This was a deal. A transaction. She was being sold off to a man. It hurt her deep, but there was nothing she could do about it. Things have always been like this, they treated her like a prized possession that they could auction off whenever they wanted rather than their own daughter. She was born just a few minutes after Millie, but while they treated Millie like a cherished princess who deserved the best things in the world, they treated her like she wasn't their daughter or a part of the family at all. They only pretended to be nice whenever they needed her to do something that would benefit them. Her father chuckled, clapping the man’s shoulder. “Of course, we’ll discuss the finer details later, but I assure you, she’ll be an obedient and respectable wife.” Michelle felt the blood drain from her face. The words obedient and respectable felt like shackles around her neck , suffocating her. It felt like a dagger was being stabbed into her heart and it hurt so much. Her mother, Vivian, suddenly appeared beside them, her tone sweet. “Michelle, dear, Mr. Lancaster here is the CEO of Lancaster Holdings. His son is quite successful and has been looking for a suitable wife. This is a wonderful opportunity for you.” Opportunity? For me or for them? She thought. A cold shiver ran down Michelle’s spine. She wasn’t even being asked if she wanted this or how she felt about it, they didn't care about how their action could affect her life . Her future had already been decided without her opinion, she had no say in any of it , her feelings disregarded as easily as one would negotiate a business deal. She gripped her champagne flute tightly, her knuckles turning white and tears threatening to fall from her eyes, she was really sad. “Excuse me,” she whispered, her voice shaking as she turned sharply on her heels, forcing her way through the crowd, her breaths coming in quick, uneven gasps. She needed to have some time alone to calm the emotions building up in her. She needed to get out of here. The room suddenly felt suffocating and she desperately needed some air. But in her frantic haste to escape, one of her heel caught the hem of her dress, sending her stumbling forward while losing control of her movement— And straight into the broad chest and the towering figure of a handsome man. Her glass slipped from her fingers and the wine spilled, the liquid splashing across his perfectly tailored suit and the white shirt underneath. The room stilled. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as Michelle’s eyes widened in horror, slowly trailing up to meet the piercing and cold gaze of none other than Raymond Hawthorne—the ruthless billionaire CEO whose mere presence commanded fear and respect. His sharp, chiseled jaw tensed as he glanced down at his ruined suit, his icy blue eyes narrowing. Michelle’s stomach plummeted. Oh no. She had just spilled wine on New York’s most powerful, feared , and one of the richest men And from the way he was staring at her, she was in deep, deep trouble. One she knew she couldn't get out of easily. Raymond Hawthorne’s piercing blue eyes locked onto Michelle’s, his expression unreadable. The weight of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, and for a brief moment, she forgot how to breathe. The murmur of the crowd around them barely registered in her mind as she stared up at the man whose name carried power and influence across the entire city. She was waiting for him to lash out at her or show an angry expression like anyone else would, but instead he was calm , narrowing his eyes and studying her with an amused expression that was barely noticeable. Even Millie was smiling to herself, expecting an interesting show and patiently waiting for Michelle to be embarrassed but she was disappointed and shocked at Raymond's reaction. A stunned silence hung between them, stretching unbearably long and uncomfortable. Then, he exhaled, slow and measured, before dabbing at the dark stain seeping into his expensive suit jacket and white shirt with the pristine white handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. “You’re shaking,” he remarked while studying her, his deep voice smooth yet intimidating and cold. Michelle quickly dropped her hands to her sides, clenching them into fists. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, the heat of a dozen eyes on her making her pulse race and she felt uncomfortable with how their gazes trailed on her, studying her every move. Raymond’s gaze flickered over her, taking in the pale-blue dress that contrasted starkly with the glamorous ensembles surrounding her. His sharp eyes missed nothing, lingering on the subtle way she held herself—nervous,scared and uncertain, almost as if she wanted to disappear. “What’s your name?” he asked, his tone calm but firm and cold. She swallowed before answering. “Michelle… Michelle Davenport.” Something flickered in his eyes. “Davenport?” His gaze swept over the room, quickly finding Millie, who was busy laughing and charming yet another wealthy heir with her flirting . Then, his eyes returned to Michelle. There was no immediate recognition in his face, but there was intrigue. Before Michelle could say anything more, Henry Davenport sauntered towards them and appeared beside her, his grip firm on her arm, almost hurting her. “Mr. Hawthorne,” her father greeted with a fake polished smile, ignoring Michelle’s obvious distress. “What a pleasure to see you here tonight.” Raymond gave a slight nod, his posture unwavering. “Henry.” Henry’s grip on Michelle tightened slightly, a silent warning for her to behave. “I see my daughter has introduced herself rather… unexpectedly.” He chuckled lightly, though there was a forced edge to his tone. He had wanted to introduce his precious daughter Millie to Raymond but Michelle had gotten a step ahead of them and ruined his plans. He was upset but was able to mask it with a smile. Raymond’s expression remained unreadable as he turned back to Michelle. “She did.” Henry sighed, then looked down at Michelle with mild annoyance and anger. “Michelle, you should be more careful.” His tone almost threatening. Michelle bit her lip, fighting the urge to glare at him. Careful? As if she had planned this. Raymond, however, didn’t seem as dismissive. His eyes held an unmistakable curiosity, as though he was assessing her beyond the surface. “I’d like to speak with her alone,” he said suddenly. Michelle blinked in shock. She was puzzled, “what could he possibly want to speak to her about?” She thought. Henry hesitated for a brief second before recovering with a forced chuckle. “Of course, of course. Michelle, be polite and don't cause any more trouble.” His fingers dug into her arm once more before he released her, giving Raymond a nod before stepping away with a displeased expression. Michelle’s heart pounded as she turned back to Raymond, who had already started walking toward one of the quieter balcony doors. He didn’t even check to see if she was following—he simply expected her to. Her feet moved before her mind caught up. The moment they stepped onto the private balcony, the cool evening breeze hit her, easing the suffocating warmth of the crowded ballroom. The city lights stretched before them, twinkling in the distance. Raymond leaned casually against the railing, watching her closely. “You looked like you wanted to run,” he observed and chuckled Michelle stiffened. “I…” she was a bit embarrassed. He tilted his head. “Your father was trying to marry you off, wasn’t he?” She sucked in a breath, her throat tightening. He had watched the whole spectacle earlier and seen right through her father's intention. Michelle lowered her gaze. “It’s not the first time,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Raymond was silent for a moment, then, to her surprise, he let out a quiet chuckle. It wasn’t warm, nor was it particularly amused—it was more like he found the situation ironic. “You’re in luck,” he finally said, straightening up and adjusting his cufflinks. “I happen to need a wife urgently.” Michelle’s eyes snapped up to meet his in disbelief. Was he… serious? He needs a wife? Just like that? She thought. Raymond held her gaze, his next words sending a shiver down her spine. “Marry me.” Michelle stared at Raymond in shock as if he had just spoken an entirely different language. The words Marry me echoed in her head, but they refused to make sense to her. A dry laugh escaped her lips—nervous, confused, and uncertain. "Excuse me?" Raymond didn't repeat himself. Instead, he slipped his hands into his pockets and studied her reaction with an air of complete indifference, as if he hadn’t just proposed something outrageous and he was wondering whether she would agree or not. "You heard me," he said, his tone calm, almost amused by her shock. “I said I happen to need a wife urgently, " he repeated. Michelle blinked rapidly, trying to process his words. A few minutes ago, she was just another invisible guest at her family's event, and now the most powerful man in the city was standing before her, suggesting marriage as if it were a casual business transaction. "I… I don't understand, why me?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. Of all the women in the world—women with wealth, beauty, and class. She wasn’t dazzling like the women in his social circle. She didn’t wear designer dresses or attend elite galas. In fact, she was sure most of those women would give anything to stand where she was now. And yet, here she was. Her eyes lifted hesitantly, meeting his unreadable gaze. Did he sense her doubt? Did he know how absurd this felt to her? Taking a slow breath, she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper, "Why me?”—why her? She thought. Raymond exhaled, glancing briefly at the city lights before returning his gaze to her. He set his glass down, studying her for a moment. The intensity in his eyes made her pulse quicken. Then, with a slight smirk, he leaned back and said, "Because you're exactly what I need." "You clearly don’t want to be auctioned off by your family," he said smoothly. "And I need a wife." Michelle swallowed hard. "Why… Why me? She asked again" His lips twitched slightly, almost as if he found the question amusing. "You're the least troublesome option and i see that you're reluctant about getting married all of a sudden," especially for your parent’s personal benefits. Michelle's brows furrowed. Least troublesome? That didn't sound like a compliment. Raymond took a step closer, and Michelle instinctively stepped back until her back hit the cold railing, she found him intimidating. He stopped just short of invading her space, his piercing gaze locked onto hers. "You need a way out," he continued. "And I need someone who won’t make a mess of this arrangement or try to lash onto me shamelessly." Michelle opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Because… he wasn’t wrong. She was trapped, she needed a way out of this mess and fast. Her parents had already decided her fate, and if she didn't agree to their plans, they would find another way to control her. But marrying Raymond Hawthorne? That was insanity. "I—I don't even know you," she stammered. "You don't need to," Raymond said, tilting his head slightly. "It's a contract marriage, Michelle. Nothing more." Her breath hitched. "A contract?" "Yes," he confirmed. "It will last as long as I need it to. No expectations. No emotions. Just an agreement that solves our problems and benefits us both." Michelle’s heart pounded in her chest. It was madness. Absolute madness. And yet… a part of her—the desperate part—was tempted to agree. Raymond must have sensed her hesitation because he took a step back, allowing her space to breathe. "Think about it," he said. "But don’t take too long. I don’t like waiting." You know how to find me when you've made up your mind. Then, just as effortlessly as he had turned her world upside down, he strolled back into the ballroom, leaving Michelle gripping the railing, her mind spinning. Did she really just receive a marriage proposal from the most powerful and ruthless man in New York? And worse—was she actually considering it?Michelle barely slept that night.Even after the party had ended and she had locked herself in her room, Raymond's words echoed in her head over and over again like an unsolvable riddle, she thought hard about what he said."You need a way out. And I need a wife."She tossed and turned, the weight of her predicament pressing hard against her chest. Marrying a stranger—no, worse, marrying Raymond Hawthorne, a man feared by many—was sheer madness. And yet, the alternative was just as terrifying. She wasn't ready for the kind of trouble and fame that came with marrying him but then, she didn't want to be trapped and be at the mercy of her parents unpredictable actions . She wanted to be free. Her father would not let her reject the arranged marriage he had planned. And even if she tried to resist, he’d either guilt-trip her or threaten to cut her off completely, as if she weren’t already the family’s disposable afterthought.By morning, Michelle’s decision still hadn’t solidified, but
Michelle sat across from Raymond in his private office, her hands folded tightly in her lap as he slid a contract toward her. The thick document looked intimidating, the pages crisp and filled with legal jargon she barely understood. “This outlines everything,” Raymond said smoothly, his fingers tapping the desk. “Terms, expectations, some rules , financial arrangements, go through it and sign.” Michelle swallowed, staring at the contract as if it might jump up and bite her, she was fidgeting with the pen in her hand. This is insane. She was about to sign a marriage contract with a man she barely knew, a rich and powerful man feared by half of New York. A man every woman in the city wanted. She hesitated. “You really had this drawn up already?” Raymond’s lips curved slightly. “I had a feeling you’d come around.” She exhaled sharply, gripping the pen he handed her. “Arrogant much?” “Confident.” Michelle shot him a glare, but he only smirked, clearly unbothered. She flipped thr
The car finally rolled to a stop in front of the Davenport estate, a sprawling architectural masterpiece, a modern design that practically screamed, "We have money, and we love reminding people about it." The mansion's white walls, towering glass windows, and perfect garden gave off an air of cold, detached luxury—much like the people inside it. Michelle barely had time to brace herself before Raymond stepped out, he opened the car door for her like the gentleman that he was, exuding his usual air of effortless authority. She stepped out of the car while sighing and closed the car door, then she followed Raymond as he walked towards the mansion, adjusting her emerald green dress—one of the many he had insisted she get earlier. If she had to face her family, at least she’d look like she belonged in their world, even though they treated her like she never truly did. As soon as they stepped onto the marble pathway, the front door swung open, revealing Mr. Andrew, the Davenport family
The next morning, Raymond left for work as usual, immersing himself in meetings, collaborations, and company affairs. Michelle, on the other hand, had a far less structured day ahead—one that quickly turned into a battlefield of words when Millie asked her to meet at a nearby coffee shop not far from their estate. Michelle arrived there, already bracing herself for whatever storm Millie had cooked up again. And, as expected, the moment she sat down, Millie wasted no time in launching her attack verbally and not caring about her image. “How the hell did this happen?” Millie demanded while gritting her teeth in anger, her perfectly manicured nails tapping furiously against the ceramic cup in front of her. “How are you engaged to Raymond Hawthorne? You, of all people?” How could you do this without discussing it with us, your family? Oh, now I'm their family? These people are so shameless …she thought to herself. Michelle sighed, stirring her coffee absentmindedly. “Good morning to
The morning sun filtered through the wide windows of Raymond’s penthouse, casting a warm glow over the sleek, luxury modern interior. But the brightness did little to chase away the lingering tension from the previous night's engagement dinner. Michelle sat at the kitchen island, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, her mind replaying Eleanor’s condescending remarks and Millie’s smug expression. Raymond had already left for work, a brief, almost curt farewell muttered as he straightened his cufflinks. The silence in the penthouse was deafening, amplifying her thoughts until she couldn’t sit still any longer. She needed air, a distraction—anything to escape the feeling of inadequacy that clung to her after facing Eleanor and her own family’s disdain. She quickly changed into a simple gown and slipped on her flats, deciding to take a walk around the neighborhood to clear her mind, and also get some fresh air. The streets were bustling with morning activity—people rushing to
You don’t belong here. Leave while you can.” The threat was clear. And Michelle knew, without a doubt, that the storm was just beginning. The days following the engagement dinner were anything but peaceful. Eleanor's disapproval hung over Michelle like a storm cloud, and Millie’s determination to ruin her was obvious. Despite Raymond's subtle reassurances, Michelle couldn't ignore the unease twisting in her gut. She had seen the way Eleanor’s eyes had narrowed, her smile tight and cold. It was clear that the woman wasn’t planning to stand idly by. In the Hawthorne estate, Eleanor’s office was a blend of sophistication and power, much like the woman herself. She sipped her tea gracefully, her gaze fixed on the man standing before her—Daniel Reid, a private investigator known for his discretion and efficiency. "I need you to find everything there is on Michelle Davenport," Eleanor commanded, her tone leaving no room for questions. "Family, past relationships, school, past jobs, where
The atmosphere at Hawthorne Enterprises was heavy. Michelle felt it the moment she stepped into the office—eyes tracking her every move, whispers, conversations halting abruptly when she passed by. Her fingers tightened around the blueprint tube in her hand, but she forced herself to keep walking, head held high. She couldn't ignore the tightness and uneasy feeling in her chest, though. Not after the phone call with Alex. His words had lingered, wrapping around her like barbed wire. Worse was the realization that Eleanor had already found him, that the warning Raymond had given her was no empty threat. “It’s only a matter of time before she finds something—anything—to use against you.” The words echoed cruelly in her mind. Now it has come true. A soft chime from her phone broke her out of her thoughts .She glanced down at the screen and froze. A message notification—no sender ID, no name , just a single image attachment. With a mix of dread and morbid curiosity, she tapped it open.
The morning light seeped through the curtains, painting the walls of the guest room shades of gold. Michelle hadn’t slept a wink, the weight of everything pressing down too heavily on her, she couldn't even rest. Her eyes were swollen, cheeks stained with the remnants of tears she hadn’t been able to hold back the previous night. She stared at her phone, the last message from Alex still showing on the screen, taunting her. Each time she tried to close her eyes, she saw Raymond’s cold gaze, the anger in his eyes, and the bitter accusation in his voice. The pain in her chest had dulled into a hollow ache. How did everything spiral out of control so fast? A sharp knock pulled her out of her thoughts. She stiffened, heart thundering, hoping—dreading—that it was Raymond and he had realized that she was innocent. But she was disappointed when the door opened, it was Helen, the housekeeper, with a sympathetic look. “Good morning, Mrs Hawthorne,” Helen greeted softly, her eyes flicking t
The afternoon sun created long shadows in Michelle’s office. She sat at her desk, checking the last details of her company's new project. She thought about the busy days they'd just had, and as she looked out at the bustling city, she felt a surge of pride. It had been a long journey, but her company had finally reached the place she had always dreamed of. Raymond had just left after a brief but motivating meeting, and his words lingered in her mind. Michelle, he had said with real admiration, You’ve built something amazing. I am so proud of what you’ve achieved. But this is just the start. There’s a whole empire ahead of you. She was at a loss for words then. His praise was both humbling and thrilling. The way he looked at her made her feel like she was truly special. It wasn’t just about the company. It was about their partnership, shared dreams, and the life they were beginning to build together. From the start, Raymond had always been there for her, urging her to go beyond her ow
The morning sun shone brightly through the windows in Michelle's office, creating a gentle glow on the polished wooden floors. The city outside was busy and alive, but inside, it was calm, matching Michelle's peaceful energy. She was still thinking about the important decision she made yesterday. It felt heavy, but in a good way, as it brought her closer to the life she had always dreamt of. Raymond had just left after a quick meeting, and his words lingered in her mind. You’re amazing, Michelle, he said with genuine pride. I’m really proud of you. This partnership is only the beginning. You have the potential to create something incredible. His kind words provided comfort, like wrapping herself in a warm blanket. It had taken her a long time to arrive at this point, but now everything seemed to be falling into place. She no longer felt uncertain. Michelle had grown and changed, and she now moved forward with confidence. From the start, Raymond had always believed in her. He supporte
Michelle felt a thrill as she walked through the empty space that would soon be her architectural office. The walls were blank, and the wooden floors shined. The space seemed full of possibilities, and she could hardly believe her big dream was starting to come true. Raymond had helped her find this great place, and now it was up to Michelle to bring her dream to life. She could feel New York's busy energy in the building. As she walked around, she thought about everything she had achieved. She used to struggle just to get by, not sure of her place in a tough world. Now, she was on the verge of opening her own firm. It felt almost unbelievable. Standing by a window, Michelle gazed at the skyline and took a deep breath. The view was fantastic, showing the city in all its glory. She felt a strong connection to New York. This city was now her home and her place to create. Her phone buzzed, pulling her back to the moment. She smiled when she saw Chloe's name on the screen. Hi, how’s the
As the morning sun brightened their apartment through the large windows, its soft light filled the room. Raymond and Michelle sat quietly at the kitchen island, sipping their coffee. The gallery's opening had gone smoothly, and Michelle was proud of Chloe. Art enthusiasts, influencers, and critics were all excited about The Bloom, praising the artwork on display. Raymond leaned back in his chair and smiled at Michelle. I told you, he said gently. Her art speaks for itself. She only needed her own approval. Michelle felt warmth spread inside her as she nodded. Chloe had been nervous and unsure, but Michelle always believed in her talent. Now, with her own gallery, Chloe had proven her abilities to the world and silenced her doubts. She did it, Michelle said with admiration in her voice. She did. And you supported her all along, Raymond said warmly. That's why people are drawn to you, Michelle. His words touched Michelle deeply. Do you really think so? I know so, Raymond replied with
The plane came down gently through the clouds, revealing the vast skyline of New York City below. Michelle gazed out of the window, feeling both nervous and excited. Just a few weeks had passed since she left, yet so much had changed. The warm sun, joyful times with her family, and the pride in her success comforted her like a cozy blanket. As the plane touched the ground, Michelle's thoughts turned to what lay ahead. She remembered the award she had just won—Architect of the Year. Seeing those words on the plaque still felt unreal but very special. She looked at Raymond, who relaxed in his seat, deep in thought. His hand rested gently on Olivia's car seat, and Oliver was sleeping peacefully by his side after the long flight. A deep love for both of them filled Michelle's heart. Raymond noticed her gaze and smiled warmly, a smile that always made her feel unique. We’re home, he said softly, full of hope. Michelle nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude. The idea of home had always been d
The morning sun came through the curtains, filling the bedroom with a warm, golden light. Michelle stood by the bed, carefully folding Olivia's tiny dresses into a suitcase. Her actions were slow and gentle. The house started waking up around her, with soft voices and the faint sounds of breakfast being made. It all wrapped around her, making her feel at ease. It was hard to believe they were almost leaving. Even harder to think about how much had changed since they first got there. Michelle stopped for a moment to smooth her hand over the neatly folded clothes. A year ago, she could barely imagine what her future looked like. Now, she found herself living it — vibrant, sometimes messy, beautiful, and completely her own. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She turned and saw Chloe peeking in with excitement written all over her face. Hey, do you have a moment? Chloe asked as she entered the room with a bit of a bounce in her step. Michelle gave her a warm smile. Always. Wha
The party was slowing down, but laughter and soft chatter lingered like a pleasant memory. Michelle sat on a comfy patio chair with her phone on her lap, paused on a video where Oliver and Olivia shouted their names. Fairy lights around her cast a soft golden glow, creating a dreamy atmosphere. Raymond sat nearby, gently rocking Oliver, while Olivia slept on Michelle’s chest, her tiny fingers clutching her mother's hair. Raymond glanced over and smiled, a look that still made Michelle's heart flutter. Excited, Michelle opened her architectural team's group chat. With a slightly trembling thumb, she played the video and sent it. Responses came quickly. Anna wrote: I'm crying. They're such angels! Leo replied: Amazing! They're so precious! And Oliver’s 'no exceptions'? Hilarious! Sophie said: Those cheeks! Their cute outfits! How do you handle so much cuteness, Michelle? Ava added: Is Olivia the boss at home? She looks like it. Michelle stifled her laughter, glancing at Olivia's p
The backyard was softly lit with glowing string lights that gave everything a warm, golden hue. These lights hung between the tall oak trees and fluttered over the stone patio. Michelle stood at the edge, taking in a deep breath. She watched the guests as they chatted and laughed, with music playing in the lovely spring night air. The home she and Raymond had dreamed of was finally full of life. It wasn't just about the architecture; it was filled with heart and warmth. Tonight's gathering was more than just celebrating a completed home. It was about family, love, and the start of something new. "Hey, beautiful," Raymond said quietly, approaching Michelle from behind and wrapping an arm around her. Michelle leaned back into his embrace and smiled. Do you think they like it? Raymond glanced around. Chloe was laughing with Sebastian and Felix by the stone fireplace. Damian and Millie were sharing smiles at the dessert table. Friends from their community were gathered under canopies, t
Chloe sat quietly on the bed, gripping the note so tightly that it had become crumpled in her hands. She watched as Sebastian knelt before her. He was composed, his hands steady, and though he seemed calm, Chloe could sense the underlying tension in him. She knew he was ready to protect her at all costs. Let me see the note, he requested softly. Chloe handed it to him without saying anything. Sebastian read through the note, his jaw clenching slightly. This time, he didn't swear or get angry. Instead, he carefully folded it and placed it aside, treating it like crucial evidence. I’m fine, Chloe whispered, but her shaky voice revealed her true feelings. Sebastian reached out and held her hands, entwining their fingers. His touch was warm and reassuring. You will be fine, he gently corrected her. His voice carried a sense of certainty. I promise, Chloe. You’re safe with me. I won't let anything happen to you or let anyone hurt you. Tears filled Chloe's eyes, but she fought to keep them