Jane Before I got into the yellow taxi, Brody managed to catch up with me, wearing house slippers as he followed me. "Jane!" He grabbed my arm, his fingers trembling slightly. "Please, don't go," he panted, his green eyes wide with panic. "I can't take this anymore, Brody! I've ignored the office rumors, the glances, and your 'work dinners' with Sonia. But finding her in our home, wearing my clothes? This is too much!" I shouted angrily. He glanced around at the people staring at us, clearly uncomfortable with the public scene. "Jane, please, let's not create a scene. We can talk about this at home," he said, which further fueled my anger. "If you don't want a scene, return to the penthouse and leave me alone!" I snapped. Brody ran a hand through his hair, leaving it even more tousled. "Sonia needed a safe place to stay tonight, so she's here at the apartment. Her boyfriend hurt her, and she needs to hide. Our apartment was the only place I could think of where she'd be safe
Jane My heart pounded as the weight of an arm draped across my body. "Ahhhh!" I screamed, instinctively recoiling from the unexpected touch. Beside me, Brody jolted upright, eyes wide with alarm. "What the hell, Jane?!" he exclaimed, his voice hoarse from sleep. A rush of memories from our last encounter flooded my mind. I pointed an accusatory finger at him, confused about why he was there with me. "W-what the hell are you doing here?" I stopped short, taking in the unfamiliar room. It was spacious and elegantly furnished, with large windows framing an unknown view. "Shit! W-where am I?" A serene landscape greeted me outside the window, with lush green leaves and colorful flowers swaying gently in the breeze. "Calm down, alright? You're at my place in Henderson," he said, his tone calm and reassuring. "Your place? How?" I could hardly believe it. I'd met Brody in Europe, and we'd been together there for four years. He never mentioned owning a home in Nevada. It wouldn't
Jane For three more days, I focused on work at Luminary Productions in Highland Hills. Despite the familiar surroundings, I found little comfort as I prepared to return to London next week. Brody kept calling me several times, and Sonia also kept sending me messages. Sonia's texts grew increasingly venomous: Sonia: 'Jane, don't think that Brody loves you. He's struggling to keep his good public image and manage office politics. Your separation would ruin his company. Face it—the only reason he's staying in this sham of a marriage is because of your Cornell surname.' Her next message dripped with hostility: Sonia: 'Stop being a bitch! You're making things hard for Brody. Because of you, there are problems here at the office.' I swiftly reported her number as a scammer and blocked her. Why does it seem like I'm the one at fault? Seriously! With trembling hands, I fired off a text to Brody: 'Tell your mistress to stop disturbing me, or else she'll face my lawyer!' The constant
Jane "Are you saying you intentionally approached me, Brody?" I asked my husband, confusion and hurt mingling in my voice. "Yes, Jane. I know about your infatuation with Bronn four years ago. Jakob explained it to me in detail," he admitted. "In that case, why did you marry me, Brody?" My mind raced, thinking he had used my admiration for his cousin to his advantage. Perhaps he made a deal with my father to keep me away from Bronn and Emily. But Brody's following words caught me completely off guard. "Because I genuinely like you, Jane. I… I’m the one who approved your application to the university in London as an exchange student." I gasped in shock; the news hit me hard. "I admit, I was still in a relationship with Sonia during that time," Brody continued. "She knew about my feelings for you and, believe it or not, encouraged me to pursue a relationship with you." My face soured at his words. It made me face the truth about their so-called 'open relationship.' Sonia was his n
Sarah As we entered the hotel, my family was greeted by the fragrant air freshener smell. Rowan and Iris seemed excited to leave Serenity Pines Estate finally. Their outings from the villa had been limited for the past four years, but on the last day I brought the twins to the Luminary Productions' office, we were photographed getting out of the car. The uproar was immediate and intense. Social media exploded with speculation, gossip columns spread theories, and even respected news outlets couldn't resist the story. As much as we wanted to keep them anonymous, we knew staying silent would only lead to more speculation. After hours of deliberation and consultations with our PR team, Philip and I decided to address the public. Just a week later, we were at my father, Chairman Benner's, high-profile birthday party. It was our first public appearance as a family, and I couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. "Miss, your invitation, please?" asked the doorman as we approached the enor
Sarah Two of Chairman Benner's bodyguards—burly men in black suits—followed us closely, their eyes constantly scanning the air. The tension was thick, and the silence between us was oppressive. As we approached the Presidential Suite, memories flooded my mind. It had been years since we'd shared any meaningful interaction. The last time we truly spoke, I was pregnant with the twins, and his words had cut deeper than any knife. The pain and rejection still felt fresh, a wound that refused to heal. When we entered the suite, a crystal chandelier cast a warm glow over the spacious living area. My father then excused himself. "I'll just change my clothes," he said. Without waiting for a response, he disappeared into the primary bedroom, leaving me alone in the abundant space. Sitting on the soft couch in the suite's living area, I sent a message to Philip. Me: 'Babe, I'm with Chairman Benner in his suite. He intercepted the wine Margarette was about to pour on me. Out of courtesy, I
Sarah Eleven years ago... Darkness had settled over the tropical landscape, with the moon barely visible through the thick clouds. Waves crashed fiercely against the shore behind our villa, their rhythmic roar contrasting sharply with the chaos inside. Today was meant to be a joyous occasion—my 17th birthday. My family was at the Palm Beach resort to celebrate, but it didn't feel like a celebration. My parents had been in their room for a while. All I knew was that my father had been drinking heavily after receiving some documents from his assistant. Their argument echoed through the villa. The walls were thin, offering no soundproofing. "Please don't do this, Xavier!" my mother pleaded, her voice filled with despair. The sickening sound of shattering glass punctuated her words, followed by heart-wrenching sobs, and it made Amir and me uneasy. "Brother, I'm afraid…" I whispered to Amir, trembling as he held me. He didn't respond. I had forgotten that he had already started to
Philip "Daddy, I need to pee," Iris said, her gray eyes wide with urgency as she looked up at me, both hands pressing against her tummy. At home, Amanda or Pepper usually handled these situations, sometimes with Sarah's help. I caught sight of my son nearby. "Rowan, come! We need to help your sister," I called to him. I had no intention of taking Iris into the men's restroom, nor could I leave her alone in the women's restroom. "But I still wanted to play," Rowan protested, glancing at Iris. "Please, Brother…" Iris pleaded, shifting from foot to foot. Despite his stubbornness, I knew Rowan would relent. "Fine! But promise me you'll give me your Monday snack," he bargained. "Rowan…" I said warningly, not wanting him to take advantage of the situation. "I-I'm just kidding!" "You are so annoying!" Iris retorted, putting her hands on her hips. I could only shake my head at their usual bickering. "No fighting. Come here..." I picked up Iris. Trey followed us, holding Rowan's han