The Ceo of one of the biggest tech companies in the world needs to get married to make the paparazzi stop spreading rumors about him so he makes a deal with his new secretary to get married for only a year then he'll pay her four millions and she must disappear from the public.
View MoreI stumbled out of the mansion, my vision blurred by the tears streaming down my face. My chest felt like it had been ripped open, my heart shattered into pieces I didn’t think could ever be put back together. The cool night air hit my skin, but I barely felt it. All I could feel was the crushing weight of betrayal, of anger, of hurt. Rami’s words echoed in my mind, each one a dagger twisting deeper. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I just needed to get away.I fumbled with the car door, my hands trembling so badly I could barely grip the handle. My sobs were loud, uncontrollable, and I hated how weak I sounded, how weak I felt. I just wanted to disappear, to drive far away where I wouldn’t have to face him, where I wouldn’t have to face the mess of emotions tearing me apart. I slid into the driver’s seat, my body shaking, and reached for the door to slam it shut.But before I could, a hand gripped the edge of the door, stopping it. I looked up, and there he was. Rami. His face wa
The pressure of the day settled heavy on me, a weight on my stiff shoulders and clenched jaw. The room felt far too small and the air thick; I wished to be left alone. Rami was walking toward me, his footsteps quiet, but I knew what was coming: the kiss, the touches. But not tonight. I was just not in the mood to fake things. He leaned in, trying to kiss my forehead, but I stiffened and stepped back. I did not look at him; I could not. Because if I did, I might break down, and I could not let him see me like that—not yet."What's wrong, Dema?" he asked in a low, cautious voice.I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. "Nothing, I'm just tired tonight, and I'm not in the mood"I turned to walk out of the room, looking for some breathing space where I could think without him hovering.But he wouldn't let me. He grabbed my wrist; his grip was strong but not painful. He pulled me back to face him. "Answer me," he said, the volume of his voice edging up. "I hate when you talk to
I was sitting in my office, of the sound of the computer filling the room, when my phone buzzed on the desk. I glanced at it, expecting a work email or maybe a text from Rami. But the notification was from an unknown number. My brow furrowed as I unlocked the screen and opened the message. It was a picture. My stomach dropped.There he was—Rami, my husband—sitting across from a woman in a restaurant. They were leaning in close, her hand resting on the table near his. My chest tightened, but I forced myself to breathe. I wasn’t going to let this rattle me. Whoever sent this clearly wanted a reaction, and I wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction. I typed out a quick reply, my fingers steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface.*“I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing. Do not contact me again.”*I hit send and immediately blocked the number. My hands trembled slightly as I set the phone down, but I refused to let it consume me. I had work to do. I turned back
I sat on the edge of the couch, my fingers nervously twisting the hem of my sleeve. Rami had been so distant lately, so angry, and I couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t like him. He used to come home with a smile, pulling me into his arms as soon as he walked through the door. Now, he barely looked at me, he's stressed all the time and his temper flaring over the smallest things. I felt helpless, and I hated it.Tala stood across from me, dusting the shelves with her usual efficiency, but her eyes kept flicking toward me, soft with concern. “Tala,” I began, my voice hesitant, “I don’t know what to do anymore. Rami’s been so stressed, so angry. I’ve tried talking to him, but he just shuts me out. I want to help him, but I don’t even know where to start.”She paused, the duster hovering mid-air, and turned to face me fully. Her expression was thoughtful, her lips pursed as if weighing her words carefully. “You know,” she said slowly, “Rami’s always been a mama’s boy. If anyone knows wha
I’ve been watching Rami closely these past few days, and something feels off. He’s not himself. The man I know is calm, patient, and thoughtful, but lately, he’s been a storm of emotions—irritable, moody, and quick to anger. It’s like living with a stranger, and it’s starting to worry me. This morning, I heard him yelling at the maid from the kitchen. His voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet of the house like a knife. I rushed in to see what was wrong, only to find him berating her for putting sugar in his coffee. “I don’t take sugar anymore! How many times do I have to say it?” he snapped, his face red with frustration. The poor maid stood there, trembling, holding the offending cup. I tried to intervene, reminding him that he’s always taken sugar in his coffee, but he just brushed me off. “I’ve stopped consuming sugar lately,” he muttered, as if that explained everything. But it didn’t. Not to me. Later, I found him in the garden, pacing back and forth in front of the flowe
The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across my room. I was still half-asleep, the remnants of last night’s grandeur lingering in my mind—the glittering chandeliers, the hum of conversation, the way Rami’s hand had felt steady on my back as we navigated the crowd. But the peace was short-lived. A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts, and Tala entered, her usual calm demeanor replaced by something tense, almost urgent.“Good morning, Dema,” she said, her voice low. She held her phone in her hand, her fingers gripping it tightly. “There’s something you need to see.”I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What is it, Tala? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”She hesitated, then handed me the phone. “It’s about last night. The engagement party. Someone… someone filmed it. Everything. And now it’s all over social media.”I blinked, trying to process her words. “Filmed? What do you mean, *everything*?”“The entire event,” she said, her voice t
I sat in the sitting room, my hands folded neatly in my lap, trying to steady the nervous flutter in my chest. The afternoon light filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the ornate furniture. My father-in-law had insisted that this woman, Salima, would be the perfect guide to help me navigate the complexities of the royal court. I trusted his judgment, but the weight of what lay ahead pressed heavily on me. I wasn’t just a newcomer to this world; I was an outsider, and every misstep felt like it could cost me dearly.The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, and I straightened my posture instinctively. The door opened, and there she was—Salima. She carried herself with an air of quiet confidence, her posture upright but not rigid, her gaze sharp but not unkind. She was older than I had imagined, her hair streaked with silver, but there was a vitality in her movements that belied her age.“Good afternoon,” she said, her voice calm and measured. “I am Salima. Yo
As I stood there, the weight of the moment pressing down on my shoulders, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride and anticipation. The room was filled with dignitaries, their eyes fixed on Rami’s father as he stepped forward to deliver his speech. The air was thick with expectation, and I could sense the gravity of the occasion settling over everyone present.From my point, I watched him closely, noting the way he carried himself—calm, composed, and radiating a quiet confidence. He began to speak, his voice steady and resonant, filling the room with a sense of authority and purpose. "This new position is not just an honor," he declared, "but a profound responsibility. One that I do not take lightly."I felt a shiver run down my spine as his words echoed through the hall. He spoke of his commitment to serve his Majesty with unwavering dedication, to utilize every resource at his disposal, and to draw upon the depths of his knowledge and experience to fulfill his duties. His voice wa
I stood beside Rami, my hand resting lightly on his arm, as we navigated the sea of elegantly dressed guests. Tonight was important—his father’s first public speech as the prince’s new advisor, and the charity event was the perfect stage for him to solidify his reputation. But I could feel the tension in Rami’s posture, the way his eyes scanned the room, alert and cautious. He had warned me earlier about his father’s rivals, how they would stop at nothing to undermine him. I hadn’t realized just how far they might go until the man approached me.He was unassuming, dressed in a tailored suit, with a polite smile and a small notebook in hand. “Excuse me, Miss Dema?” he said, his voice smooth and practiced. “I’m with Society Today I was hoping to feature you in an upcoming issue. You’re quite the rising star, and our readers would love to know more about you.”I blinked, surprised. A magazine feature? Me? I glanced at Rami, who was momentarily distracted by a passing acquaintance. The ma
It's 3 AM, and I still can't sleep. Tomorrow is my wedding day, and I'm so nervous that my stomach won't stop grumbling. I only have five hours to try to get some sleep, but I just can't relax. My whole life was turned upside down in a matter of a few weeks. Thirty days ago, I was a homeless girl living in my car with no job. Then I heard that a well-known company was looking for a secretary. I was not expecting to get the job; surprisingly, I passed, and they hired me immediately.After a couple of days, my boss called me into his office. I found him scrolling on his phone. When he noticed that I was standing before him, he showed me what he was looking at—it was an article about him. I've seen many articles like this; they keep spreading rumors about him. My boss is the young CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the world, so it's not shocking that many news agencies are desperate to learn the tiniest piece of information about him. On my first day, I heard them saying that ...
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