Vanessa’s POVI stormed into my penthouse, slamming the door so hard the glass walls rattled. My heels clicked against the marble floors as I yanked off my coat, throwing it onto the couch. My body burned with fury, my veins pulsing with rage. My fingers curled into fists so tight my nails dug into my palms, the sharp sting grounding me for just a second before another wave of anger crashed over me.Cole had actually thrown me out.Me.The only woman who had ever truly belonged to him. The woman who had been by his side before Emily came along and wrecked everything. The woman who had given him everything, only to be tossed aside like I was nothing.My breathing came hard and fast as I paced across the room, my expensive heels clicking against the floor. The city skyline stretched out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the night glowing with lights, but I barely saw it. All I saw was that moment in his office.His face.The way he looked at me…like I was a stranger.Like I was nothi
Emily's POV.My stomach felt like it was eating itself.The ache had started as a dull discomfort, but now it was something else…something sharp, something cruel. Hunger had turned into a gnawing pain that twisted deep inside me, making it hard to even breathe properly. My throat was dry, my lips cracked. Every muscle in my body ached from being tied up for days.I didn’t know how long I’d been here.Three days? Four?The days blurred together in the darkness of this hellhole. My wrists were raw from the tight ropes, my legs numb from being bound to this stupid chair. My head pounded, and my body felt so weak that even holding my head up was a struggle. But I hadn’t broken down.I wouldn’t.Across from me, one of them sat lazily, chewing on a piece of bread. The sound of him eating filled the room, each bite echoing like a taunt. I tried to ignore it, but my stomach betrayed me with a painful growl.He noticed.His gaze moved to mine, his chewing slowing. He was a big guy, broad shoul
Emily's POV.Vanessa’s breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes darted wildly between Leon and me, a storm of rage swirling within them. Then, in one sudden outburst, she snapped.“Are you fucking kidding me, Leon?” she screamed, her voice raw with frustration. “You ruined everything! You fucked it all up!”Leon didn’t even flinch. He simply folded his arms across his chest, his expression cool, unaffected, like he had seen this coming from a mile away. His calmness only seemed to push Vanessa further over the edge.“You weren’t supposed to let her live!” she went on, practically shaking with fury. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her nails digging so hard into her palms they could have drawn blood. “I paid you! I fucking paid you!”Leon exhaled, rolling his shoulders like he was bored. “Yeah, well, plans change.”Vanessa let out another string of curses, her voice cracking with sheer disbelief. Her face twisted, with rage and panic flashing across
Cole’s POV.The house was too quiet. Too fucking empty. I stood by the window, whiskey in my hand, staring at the city beyond the glass. The skyline stretched endlessly, the glow of distant buildings meaningless. My mind had been running in circles, trapped in a cycle of rage, desperation, and helplessness. Emily was out there somewhere. I knew it. I could feel it.And I was losing my fucking mind without her.I had done everything…called in favors, made threats, paid off people I despised. But every lead turned into a dead end, every clue dissolved before I could grab it.I had never felt this powerless before.Then, it happened.A noise.Shouting.Footsteps pounding against the floor.My grip on the whiskey glass tightened, my entire body going rigid. My instincts kicked in before my mind could process it, and I was already moving.The study doors slammed open as I stepped out, my heart hammering in my chest. The sound of rushed footsteps filled the hallway, guards scrambling towar
Emily's POV.Warm hands. A steady touch. The scent of him all around me.Cole.I should’ve known he wouldn’t leave my side.My eyes were open, but I wasn’t fully here. Everything felt distant, like I was floating between reality and something else. Something darker. My body ached, my throat raw, my mind trapped in an endless loop of what had happened.Vanessa.The gun.She had pulled the trigger.But there was no bullet.I had been strong. Strong enough that Leon let me go.I could still hear the echo of the shot, feel the coldness of the floor, the way my body had braced for pain that never came. It was like I had left a part of myself in that room. A part I wasn’t sure I’d ever get back.A shudder ran through me, my fingers twitching slightly under the heavy weight of exhaustion. My body felt foreign, as if I wasn’t fully connected to it, like I was trapped in the space between past and present. The memories were still too fresh, pressing against the edges of my mind, threatening to
Emily’s POV.The morning air was still, thick with an eerie quiet that made my skin prickle. The scent of something warm drifted in from the kitchen, faint but noticeable…eggs, maybe toast. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t really paying attention. My mind was elsewhere, caught in the endless storm that refused to die down in my head.The television was on, its dull glow the only source of movement in the slightly dark living room. The low voices of the newscasters filled the space, the sound blending into the silence like background noise.I sat curled up on the couch, a thick duvet wrapped tightly around me. My fingers gripped the soft fabric, knuckles turning white as I held onto it like it was the only thing tethering me to reality. It was warm, comforting, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest.Cole had left me here, just for a moment, after dismissing the servants for the day. He had been fussing over me since last night, refusing to let anyone else take care of me. He was
Cole's POV.My entire body burned with fury. Vanessa had done this. She had sent men to kidnap my wife. She had starved her, tied her up, held her captive for days. And then she had stood there with a gun aimed at Emily’s head, ready to end her life without a second thought.I had known Vanessa was ruthless, but this? This was beyond anything I could have imagined.My breathing was harsh, uneven. My fists clenched so tight that my nails dug into my skin. The thought of Emily, tied up and helpless, her body weak from hunger, her throat dry from thirst…rage shot through me like wildfire. I wanted to find Vanessa and destroy her with my own two hands. No court, no police, no trials. Just me and her, and all the pain she deserved.I had sent men after Vanessa the second Emily told me everything. Every single one of my resources had been mobilized. I had contacts all over the world…private investigators, ex-military men, underground connections. I wasn’t just some businessman; I had power,
Vanessa's POV.The room smelled of stale cigarette smoke and artificial air freshener, the kind that barely masked the stench of cheap liquor and desperation. The fluctuating light above me buzzed faintly, with an ugly yellow glow over the peeling wallpaper. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating me, making it impossible to think straight. The mattress beneath me was stiff, the sheets rough against my skin, but I hadn’t moved in hours.My fingers gripped the cracked edges of my phone so tightly that my knuckles turned bone white. My breath was uneven, my pulse hammering violently in my throat.Emily was free.The news was everywhere…blaring from TV screens, flooding social media, plastered across every major headline.Emily Greyson has been rescued.Emily Greyson speaks out for the first time.Cole Greyson’s wife has returned.It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me, like I was free-falling into an abyss with no way to stop. My chest tightened, my hear
Smith’s POVThe Hart Enterprise 50th Anniversary Gala was perfect.Every inch of the ballroom screamed success. The walls, lined with art and gold accents, reflected the soft shimmer of crystal chandeliers. The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume and fresh flowers, the latter arranged in massive, white-topped vases at every corner. I surveyed it all…took it in from the balcony before stepping down to join the crowd below.It was a night that I had meticulously planned. Years of hard work, of seeing opportunities and risks like no one else, and now, it all led here. Every seat in the room was occupied. Every person invited was a mover, a shaker, an influencer. The type of people who understood what it meant to be at the top.I adjusted the cuffs of my black tuxedo…custom-made, obviously. Not a thread out of place. My watch gleamed under the soft lighting as I looked out at the sea of faces below. The night was unfolding as I had imagined. Every detail was perfect. Every piece in p
Stevie-Lou’s POVThree days.It had been three days since we lowered my father into the ground.Three days since I stood beside his casket, dressed in black, staring down at the man who raised me…silent and still beneath a polished wooden lid. Three days of hearing strangers murmur things like “He was a good man” and “So sorry for your loss,” as if their condolences could glue together the splintered mess inside my chest.They couldn’t. Nothing could.The grief was a living thing. It clung to me like a second skin, heavy and suffocating, curling around my lungs every time I tried to breathe. I sat curled up on the sagging couch in my apartment, wrapped in my father’s old flannel shirt, my knees tucked under me like a scared little girl. A single candle burned on the coffee table. Sandalwood…his favorite scent. The flame danced, throwing shadows against the walls, soft and flickering. It was the only light I could stand. The overhead bulbs were too harsh, too alive.Jeremy, my boyfrien
Smith's POV.I leaned back in my chair slowly, the leather squeaking. I didn’t speak. Just stared at James.His hands were twitchy. Fidgety. Like he didn’t know what to do with them."Is that all?" I finally asked.He blinked. Like he expected me to say something else. Anything else."Yes, sir. I just thought... you should know."I scoffed. "Why?"He flinched. "Well, he worked here since before you were born.""Exactly," I said, cutting him off. "Which means he had years to prepare. Retirement fund. Family. Friends. A damn GoFundMe if he wanted."James didn’t speak."You think it was my job to save him?" I asked, eyes narrowing.He shook his head quickly. "No, sir. Of course not.""Good. Because it wasn’t. This isn’t a charity."The silence in the room tightened. James looked at the floor."He was desperate," he mumbled.I stood up slowly. Walked around the desk until I was a few steps from him."Let me ask you something, James. If I give 1.3 million to a dying man with a bad heart, h
Smith POV.I was 27. Young. Cold. Successful. Ruthless.CEO of the Hart Enterprise.People feared me. And that was fine. Fear keeps people in check. I didn’t have time for emotions or second chances. Not in this world. Not in business. One mistake could bring it all crashing down.I sat behind my office desk…black, clean…just like everything else in my life. The skyline of New York stood outside my glass window. Everyone out there had a dream. I was already living mine. But it didn’t come easy.I wasn’t even supposed to be here. I wasn’t meant to exist.My father, Richard Hart, never wanted me. He wasn’t married when he met my mother, Lena. His first wife…Emily’s mother…had already left him. Walked away. No cheating involved. That chapter had ended.Eight years later, he met my mother. It was just a one-night stand. Nothing more. A stupid decision. When she found out she was pregnant and told him, he turned into a monster.He tortured her. Pressured her. Told her to get rid of me.But
Married To The Billionaire I Hate Part 2Synopsis:Stevie-Lou Parker’s world shattered the day her father, a loyal employee of Smith Hart, died after being denied a loan for his treatment. Smith Hart, the ruthless billionaire, refused to help, and her father paid the price. Consumed with rage, Stevie-Lou swore revenge on the man who caused her family’s downfall.To get close to him, Stevie-Lou went undercover, hiding her true identity. She lied about her name and used a disguise so Smith would never suspect she was the daughter of the man whose death he had caused. Using her beauty and talent as a skilled dancer, Stevie-Lou captivated Smith with a performance that left him wanting more. He fell in love, believing she was just another woman to add to his collection.But for Stevie-Lou, this was never about love…it was about revenge. She married him, planning to strip him of everything he held dear: his wealth, his power, his empire. What Smith didn’t know was that Stevie-Lou wasn’t alo
Emily's POV.Six years later.I couldn't believe how much everything had changedm..and how much I had changed. I used to be a woman who could take on anything with a smile, fighting tooth and nail for what I wanted, getting my way, keeping my guard up. Now, I was a wife, a mother to two wild kids who were way too much like me for comfort, and I was somehow still trying to find the balance. Cole and I had two little monsters. I meant that in the most loving way, of course. A five-year-old girl who thought she knew everything, and a three-year-old boy who was already calm enough to be mistaken for a mini version of his father.I looked over at Mia, our daughter, as she flipped through her book on the couch, muttering to herself. “Mom, you know you can’t just say things like that. The truth is like…” She paused, squinting up at me, “...it’s like a key. It opens doors. And if you don’t have the key, well, you’re locked out. Simple logic. Honestly.”I blinked, my fork halfway to my mouth
Emily's POV.I could feel the tightness in my chest as I walked into the hospital room. The usual weird smell of the hospital hit me instantly, but it didn’t matter. My feet were heavy, like each step took more out of me than it should. I didn’t know what I expected walking in here, but seeing him like this…injured, bruised, bandaged…was almost too much.Cole was sitting upright in the bed, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he adjusted the position of the IV that was attached to his arm. His face, though familiar, looked a little different. His skin was pale, almost sickly, and his hair was messy, falling loosely across his forehead. His eyes…those eyes that could melt anyone with a single glance…were narrowed at the screen in front of him. His left hand was holding a small tablet, and I saw the footage of the trial. It was the video of what happened in court …Vanessa, shackled, dragged in like she was nothing. I saw the shot of her standing in the courtroom, struggling to keep
Vanessa's POV.They brought me in through the back. Shackled. Dressed in orange. I could feel every damn eye in that courtroom the moment the doors opened.Phones were out. Cameras. People whispering. Judging. Hating.I used to walk through halls with power in my step, people hanging onto my words, afraid to cross me. Now, the guards shoved me forward like I was nothing. Like I wasn’t the Vanessa Monroe.The courtroom was colder than I remembered. The lights too bright. Too many people. Too many eyes. My throat was dry, and not a soul here gave a damn.The judge didn’t look up as I was led to the defendant’s table. He was flipping through a file…my file…thicker than a Bible.I sat. Hands cuffed. Ankles chained. Heart racing. Face burning.And then I saw her.Emily.Sitting there in the front row like she owned the damn place. Like she wasn’t two months pregnant with the child I tried to erase along with her.Her head was high. Shoulders back. Lips painted blood red. Her arms crossed l
Emily's POV.Hours passed. Again.The ICU lights didn’t dim. Nurses kept coming in and out. Adjusting tubes. Checking monitors. Writing things down without saying a word to me. One of them offered me a blanket. Another brought me water I didn’t touch. I couldn’t drink. Couldn’t eat. My stomach was twisted into a hundred knots.Cole hadn’t moved.Not even a twitch.I kept waiting for something. A flick of his fingers. A twitch of an eyelid. A miracle.But the machines kept beeping the same way. Monotonous. Cold. Consistent.My fingers stayed laced with his. Even though he couldn’t squeeze back.The door creaked open again.Footsteps. Not rushed. Not hesitant. Just... steady.I turned, and there she was.Lena.Smith's mom.She looked like she’d driven straight from hell to get here. Hair in a bun that had long since given up. Dark circles under her eyes. Clothes wrinkled, boots dusty. Her eyes locked on me, then flicked to Cole. Her jaw clenched."Is he…?" she didn’t finish the question