oneleebubechukwu1の小説

(Jane’s POV)During the drive to his penthouse, I kept my mouth shut. What was there to say?Here I was, relocating to the home of the man who had unwittingly turned my life upside down. And now, for some reason, my fate seemed tied to him.My hands trembled in my lap, fingers nervously twisting around one another. William sat next to me, quiet and unreadable, tapping on his phone as if this were just another work obligation.Perhaps, for him, it was.But for me? It felt monumental.My heart raced, pounding against my chest like it wanted to break free.“Stop looking like you’re being kidnapped,” he murmured without looking up from his screen.I shot him a glare. “That’s pretty much how this feels.”He let out a sigh. “It’s not that. You’re safer with me.”“Since when did you care about my safety?” I shot back.There was a long pause. “I don’t,” he finally answered. “But what comes next is crucial. Right now, your safety is part of the plan.”Oh.The plan. The image. The so-called “p

(Jane's POV )I barely recognized the person staring back at me in the mirror.Those swollen eyes. The trembling lips. The girl whose whole world crumbled in less than a day.I looked like someone teetering on the edge of a breakdown.Which… let’s be honest, I was.William stood behind me, arms crossed, observing me like a mechanic inspecting a damaged luxury car.“Fix your hair,” he said softly. “We need to go.”I nearly hurled the hairbrush at him.Instead, I inhaled, shaky and uneven.“Go where?” I managed to ask.“The press conference.”My hand froze, hairbrush suspended in midair.“No.”“Yes.”“William,” I murmured, “I can barely breathe.”“You don’t need to breathe,” he replied. “You just need to look composed.”I whirled around to face him. “How can I? My fiancé just dumped me an hour ago. Everyone thinks I’m your mistress. Reporters are chasing me down. I don’t even have a place to call home anymore. And you…” I raised my voice. “You want me to stand in front of cameras an

(Jane's POV)It felt like my heart was about to leap out of my chest. I stared at him as if he had sprouted two heads.“Together?” I echoed, my voice barely audible. “You want the world to think we’re… what? A couple?”William’s expression didn’t change. “Something like that.”I burst out laughing sharp, disbelieving, and maybe a touch unhinged.“No. Absolutely not. I won’t do it.”“Jane….”“Do you even hear yourself?” I snapped. “Everything in my life is already a disaster. You want to pour gasoline on the fire?”He didn’t waver. His gaze remained steady, cold, but with something simmering beneath the surface.Calculated. Strategic. Desperate, perhaps.“This scandal is larger than both of us,” he insisted. “It’s beyond anything we can handle alone.”I shook my head, pacing urgently around his office. The sound of my heels against the polished floor only heightened my irritation.“This is madness,” I muttered to myself. “Utter madness.”“Jane. Sit,” he said, his voice low.And, a

(Jane's POV)I should have walked away the moment I spotted the security guards. They were colossal. Arms crossed, faces blank like statues. But nope. Not today. Today… I was done. Done with tears. Done running. Done with my world crumbling over a man I didn’t even know. So I pressed on. “Ma’am, you can’t just….” “I can,” I retorted, brushing past the guard. “And I will.” The Martin Global lobby felt like a different realm ,glassy floors, ornate plants, and air conditioning that seemed to breathe wealth. Silently, people in suits gawked as I strode toward the elevator, fueled by an overwhelming determination. Someone murmured, “Isn’t that the mistress girl from…” I shut my eyes. Not here. Not showing weakness. By the time I hit the 40th floor, my hands quivered not from fear, but from rage. I loathed him. I hated him deeply for what he had done to my life. And I was ready to confront him. The receptionist shot up with a jolt. “Miss, you can’t,Mr. Martins is…he’s in a mee

( Jane’s POV)Morning came too quickly.I hadn’t slept at all and couldn't even close my eyes for a moment. How could I, when my phone buzzed incessantly, vibrating as if desperate to leap off the nightstand and escape the chaos surrounding me?By 7 a.m., the photo had gone viral.My name was plastered everywhere.Jane Mark.Mistress.Gold digger.Homewrecker.I wasn’t any of those things.But that didn’t matter to the internet.I threw on the first clothes I could find wrinkled jeans and a loose shirt and rushed to work. My hands shook uncontrollably, my stomach knotted with anxiety. I repeated to myself:It’ll be okay. This will blow over. It wasn’t real. You only delivered a package. People will understand.But they didn’t understand.As soon as I stepped through the office door, a heavy silence enveloped the room.Everyone was staring.Not discreet glances.Not casual looks.FULL ON STARES.Phones dropped to laps quickly,but not quickly enough.Whispers filled the air.Someone gig

(Jane’s POV)I held the envelope tightly, like it was my only means of survival. Just a single delivery. One little task for Daniel: drop it off at the front desk, claim it was meant for the wrong floor, then leave. Nothing grand. Nothing worth remembering.That’s what I kept telling myself on the way up. I was mostly lying.The lobby was filled with the scent of countless choices,sophisticated perfumes, polished marble, and a whiff of wealth I could only dream of. My heels clicked against the floor way too loud. They always felt out of place in environments like this. I wished I could disappear into the floor, head back home, bury my takeout in the trash, and pretend everything was perfectly normal.Then the elevator doors sighed apart, and a man stepped out.He was tall and impeccably groomed, the sort of face they plaster on magazine covers with a label of “mysterious.” He scanned the lobby, and suddenly, the entire room shifted. He didn’t see me, but I certainly saw him. My timing