All Chapters of The Forgotten Marriage: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

It was easy getting out of there, Greece had her own car and her driver was no where to be found. She drove us down to Roman's mansion, talking about who I was as we passed by the lit up streets. Apparently I was a woman who barely showed emotion or cared about anything if it wasn't business or Roman. Like a husk of a person who only thrived on work and a man who would never love me. I sounded pathetic, and I couldn't help the slight shame I felt the more she spoke about it. Once we reached the mansion, Greece asked for some clothes which came as a surprise to me. I'd imagined she would even have a dress in her brother's house. The house was quiet when we came in, it seemed the maids and Trenton had fallen asleep. We moved as quietly as we could. I begrudgingly took off my dress, feeling a twinge of anger the longer I stared at it. Those bitches ruined my night and heavens help me I wanted to have my revenge so badly. We both took a shower and met up in the livin

ROMAN After breakfast, I headed upstairs to get ready for work, my mind still reeling from the unexpected warmth of the morning. As I knotted my tie, I could hear laughter drifting up from the kitchen - Amelia and Greece, still chatting and giggling as they cleaned up. The sound was foreign in this house, but not unwelcome. I made my way back downstairs, briefcase in hand, pausing at the kitchen doorway. Amelia was at the sink, sleeves rolled up as she washed dishes, while Greece dried them, both still wearing their flour-covered aprons. They were in the middle of some story, Greece's eyes sparkling as she gestured animatedly with a dish towel. "...and then he just stood there, covered head to toe in mud, trying to look dignified!" Greece finished, dissolving into giggles. Amelia threw her head back, laughing so hard she had to grip the edge of the sink. "Oh my God, I can just picture it! Please tell me there are photos!" "Sadly, no," Greece said, wiping tears of laughter fro

The door opened, and there she was. Bertha Grayson, as beautiful as ever. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in perfect waves, catching the light from the window. Her blue eyes twinkled with an unexpected warmth, a far cry from the tears or anger I'd been expecting. She moved with a grace that had always captivated me, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "Roman," she said, her voice low and intimate. She glanced around, making sure we were alone, before approaching my desk with a sway in her hips that she knew I couldn't resist. Before I could stand or speak, she leaned in, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. The familiar scent of her perfume, jasmine, enveloped me. Then, to my surprise, she brushed her lips against mine in a tender kiss. It was gentle, almost hesitant, so unlike her. I found myself responding despite my earlier reservations, a part of me craving the familiar comfort of her touch. When she pulled away, I saw a mix of emotions in her eyes. Lov

I went through the schedule Roman had given me quite a few times, trying to commit to memory or, in this case, mentally preparing myself for the days I would have to spend by his side.It was easy to converse with him when either Trenton or Greece was present, I could pretend for a few minutes that he was not the same man who saw me as a loose woman without morals. Part of the reason why I kept my recent visits to Vincent a secret, though I knew deep down that there was no need to.Why didn't I want to face him?What was truly scaring me?I honestly had no answer to those questions, all I knew was that it was becoming increasingly to ignore him.It has only been three days since the opening of the department store and what I thought would be a good opportunity to get closer to the man became a disaster. Especially now, when he is always in a bad mood and locked up in his study.I didn't want to notice, but I did.He hasn't left his study except to eat and sometimes, he rejects his food

King's Restaurant has been around for years, I knew that because my mother used to take me when I was younger. Back then it wasn't for only people who had fat wallets, it was called King's diner and they had the best burgers. Not now though. In the past five years they seemed to have trademarked and expanded, turning it into a five-star restaurant. It was beautiful, but still in the same spot, just bigger and more luxurious. Talk about losing yourself after fame and riches. They didn't even have the side swing they used to. Roman and I stepped down from the car and he had gone back to being his cold self with a confusing emotion in his eyes. I pretended not to notice, rather trying to compose myself enough to face the coming meeting. The server at the entrance stopped us before we could go any further, asking us if we had any reservations. The man was rude, holding out his hand and sneering at us like we were enemies. “No reservations, no entry,” The ma