Although born into opulence, Hermione Watson Pierce has always felt like a mere pawn in her parents' ruthless game of power. Her voice has been silenced since childhood, her autonomy suffocated by the weight of expectation. Behind the facade of luxury, Hermione has discovered a devastating truth: her life is not her own. As a result, she has learned to suppress her emotions, earning her the reputation as the icy queen of the corporate world. However, when her parents demand she undertake a task that will irreparably alter her future, Hermione decides to seize control of her destiny. That's when Aiden Mendes enters the picture – a charismatic playboy with a reputation for recklessness. But beneath his carefree exterior lies a complex web of scars, forged in the fire of his dysfunctional family. Aiden's coping mechanism is to indulge in the excesses of life, using his charm and good looks to keep people at arm's length. Yet, when he's threatened with disinheritance unless he marries the enigmatic Hermione, Aiden reluctantly agrees. For him, it's a mere contract marriage, a means to an end. But when they meet for the first time, Aiden is blindsided by an unexpected attraction. It's love at first sight, but his notorious reputation precedes him, and Hermione's disdain is palpable. As their contract marriage turns into a battle of wills, Aiden must thaw Hermione's icy heart and prove that there's more to him than meets the eye. But can he convince her to look beyond his reputation and take a chance on love?
Lihat lebih banyakAiden
Soft music floats in the background, complementing the ambiance and décor of the restaurant I've chosen for this occasion. The menus are tantalizing, the tables set to perfection, and the setting evokes a flavorful blend of romance. The lighting dances across Katherine's olive skin, enhancing her radiance.
Katherine is a stunning woman. She looks queenly in her attire: a shimmering turquoise spaghetti dress that clings to her body like a second skin. She's the kind of woman men would go weak in the knees for. However, tonight's outcome is an irony to the venue I've picked.
I anticipate her reaction as the silence lingers after I drop the bombshell. Her expression falls slowly, her mouth thinning into a flat line, following my announcement. I watch her with alertness as she twirls her fork and knife expertly on either side of her plate. She assesses me with a grave look that makes me contemplate bolting.
Fear the silent ones, they say. For they are the most brutal. The silence stretches on, and the tension is starting to grate on my nerves. I wait out her reaction nonetheless, bracing myself for which act she will unleash – the silent killer or the crazy bawler.
Finally, Katie clears her throat, setting her cutlery down. "So...this is where it ends, huh?"
"Yeah," I reply, my eyes scanning her face to read behind the mask of neutrality. "I'm sorry we didn't work out."
I'm not sorry, though. I know our relationship is bound to hit the rocks. We both know I have no intention of making a long-term commitment.
Katie smacks her lips. "Alright." She grabs her shoulder bag and rises from her chair, balancing the bag's handle across one shoulder. "It was worth a try," she croaks, her words limning hurt and disappointment.
Her chair creaks behind her as she steps away from the table, her gaze fixed on me. I'm grateful she takes the breakup in easy stride. My last ex's reaction was no comfort. She caused quite a scene, and I regretted not breaking up with her over a text.
But my code of ethics is to jilt a woman face-to-face. I believe breaking up a relationship over a text is insouciant and cowardly. And I'm no coward.
"If you ever feel lonely, you know how to reach me," Katie says.
I tilt my chin in acknowledgment. "Sure. Goodbye, Katherine."
She arches her eyebrows. "See you around, Mendes," she says, addressing me by my last name, and walking away from our table.
I heave a sigh in relief after she's gone.
"This went well, at least," I murmur beneath a relieved sigh.
With the wealth of experience I've accumulated from past breakups, I'm convinced I've earned an honorary Ph.D. in Understanding Women – or at the very least, a professor emeritus title in Women's Psychology!
I wave the waiter over to take the bill. After receiving the receipt, I leave the restaurant, not bothering that most of our orders have been left uneaten.
I didn't want to break up with her on an empty stomach; my home training was still intact. Yet, the words had been itching to be released, and I didn't realize when I blurted them out halfway through our meal.
I start the car's engine as soon as I get in, put on my shades, and speed out of the restaurant's parking space.
I drive at top speed to my next destination, feeling exhilarated that today's task went smoothly. I had expected worse.
Fortunately, there are no traffic cops on the road. Otherwise, driving at this speed would likely get my license revoked if I were pulled over.
The engine purrs beneath me as I bring the car to a halt. I get out, humming softly, and tapping my fingers rhythmically. The car beeps as the security lock engages, and I walk into the swimming establishment.
"Whose heart did you break this time?" a familiar voice asks, echoing across the empty swimming area.
I turn toward the sound of approaching footsteps, holding back a smile. My best friend since childhood, Raymond Stilinski, steps into view, clad in his training gear. He's a swimming instructor, coach, and owner of this building.
I often visit when I need space to reflect, during quiet hours when I know I'll find tranquility.
He often trains kids for leisure and competitions. He reaches me, extending a hand in greeting. We share a coded brotherly hug, slapping each other warmly across the back.
"It's been a while," Raymond remarks, smiling.
"Sure, it is." I glance around, noticing the modifications made to the building since my last visit. I'm glad to see Raymond's business thriving.
Raymond comes from an average family. We grew up together in an average neighborhood, attending the same school, until my mom got sick and left me in the care of my real father, who had been absent throughout my childhood—Alvin Dale Mendes, the founder and Chairman of MD Group and Entertainment.
My life changed overnight. I went from a simple life to one of luxury and limelight.
"Business is going well, huh?" I ask Raymond, nodding at the new additions to his building. He grins.
"Yeah. You haven't answered my question, though."
"Do I only come here when I've broken someone's heart?"
Raymond raises an eyebrow. "It's either a breakup or something else."
"What else? Do I only visit when I've messed up? What if I miss my friend?"
Raymond snorts. "As if. You're not that sentimental."
He turns away, arranging life jackets. "How's Katie doing?" he asks over his shoulder.
"You're right," I sigh. "I only come here after a breakup."
Raymond whips around, surprise etched on his face. "You and Katie are over? I thought you two were cool. She's a great girl."
I run a hand through my hair. "Yeah, she is. That's why I had to let her go."
"Nonsense!" Raymond hisses, charging towards me to deliver another of his motivational speeches.
I duck sideways and sprint toward the changing room. I strip down to my briefs and head out to swim.
Raymond watches me in silence as I swim laps. He finishes cleaning and waits calmly for me to finish on one of the benches.
"What's my tab?" I ask when I step out of the pool, dripping wet.
Raymond tosses a towel at me, and I catch it mid-air before it hits my face. "Thanks, man." I quickly dry my hair and hang the towel over my shoulder.
Raymond's scrutinizing gaze prompts me to ask, "What?"
He considers sharing his concerns before shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. Are you done?" He asks, standing up from his bench.
"Yeah, I'm done," I reply, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.
"Let's hit town then. It's been a long day," Raymond mutters under his breath.
I agree. "I'll be out in five," I say, heading to change, and we head out.
It's around 8 p.m. when I pull into my dad's driveway. Even after living with him for over 13 years, calling him "Dad" still feels off.
I scrunch my nose in disgust, turning off the engine. Ray and I had a blast drinking and catching up. To be precise, I tried to drink myself into exhaustion, but Ray, always the voice of reason, wouldn't let me. He reminded me I had to drive home. Nonetheless, I still had a great time letting loose and connecting with my friend.
Now, the fun's over. It's time to face reality.
When I moved to this mansion at 15, I was thrilled about living in luxury. But my excitement was short-lived. I soon realized that wealth isn't everything. Affluence doesn't equal happiness. There's a lot of drama that comes with wealthy living.
If I could turn back time, I'd go back to the good old days when it was just me and my mom. Our small house and quaint neighborhood were perfect. The simple life brought me more peace and happiness than I've ever known since moving here.
I step out of my car, locking the door. Another car pulls into the driveway as I get out. I lean against my car, waiting for the owner of the exotic black car to step out.
I know who it is – Beatrice Mendes, my stepmother. She exits her car with her usual flair, showcasing her wealth. Her expensive fur coat and arrogant demeanor make her look condescending.
Her driver opens the door, and she scowls at the sight of me. She sweeps away, dashing inside without acknowledging me. She'd rather I didn't exist. I'm an unwanted guest in her home. However, it's her loss.
Whether she likes it or not, I'm here to stay.
Aiden I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from the beautiful doctor as she leaves the room. Despite being told she's not my attending physician or a nurse, her presence seems significant. She's a professor, I've been informed. Her youthful appearance and fresh-faced beauty are striking. Given her frequent visits and interest in my condition, I'm tempted to wonder if she might have a personal interest in me. The hospital director's visit doesn't surprise me, considering my father's influence, but the question she posed puzzles me. The doctor explained that I've lost some vital memories due to the accident, assuring me that they'll guide me through every step of my rehabilitation and therapy until I'm back to full health. "Is that doctor anyone significant to me?" I ask Raymond, my brow furrowed in curiosity. My mind is blank; I have no recollection of ever meeting her or getting involved with someone like her. She appears to be under thirty, and with her accomplishments, I
Hermione "Do you recognize me?" Mom asks Aiden. She's the fourth person to visit him—after his dad, his stepmom, and Lachlan—following his diagnosis with amnesia. Dr. Hale had advised that attempts to stimulate his memory should be limited to one person per visit to avoid overstimulation. He has recognized his immediate family so far, much to the relief of his dad. I stand by the corner, awaiting his response, playing along with his misunderstanding of me as one of the medical staff checking up on him. "Sure. Mrs. Ezra Watson Pierce, the director of this foundation," he answers with an expression that mirrors the one someone would give who doesn't know Ezra Watson Pierce. Mom twists her mouth, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "Is that all you remember of me?" Aiden lifts one eyebrow in questioning. "Is there more I should remember?"I exhale, stepping out of the room with Mom and Dr. Hale. Aiden's accident seems to have erased all memory of me, his mind transported back t
Hermione Chairman Mendes arrived at the hospital in the wee hours of the morning. By then, Aiden had been transferred to the ICU, his surgery having lasted six hours. My eyes are bloodshot and chilled with unshed tears as I swivel my head toward the doorway upon his entry. He looks at Aiden's supine form on the bed first; his expression darkens before he focuses his attention on me. "How did this happen?" His voice shakes, reflecting the severity of Aiden's injury. Aiden's head is wrapped in bandages securing a dressing for his craniotomy, and his femur is immobilized in a stabilizing device to allow for proper healing of the fracture. Various monitors and tubes surround him, a stark reminder of the severity of his condition. He looks fragile on the bed, and despite the assurance from the operating surgeons that his surgery was successful, the sight of him is a blow to my heart.My mouth parts wordlessly. I'm unsure where to begin. One moment, we were making plans for the night
Hermione The moment the ambulance van reaches the hospital, the doors are flung open. I called Dr. May during transport to have an operating room ready and to page the doctors on duty. I suspect that neurosurgery and orthopedic departments will be needed, given the bleeding from Aiden's head and the fractures he sustained during the collision. A full diagnosis will be confirmed upon arrival, and I have made prior arrangements to ensure the necessary doctors are available. A cervical spine injury is probable, but that will be determined after the scan. Dr. May, along with a nurse and resident, assists the paramedic in lowering Aiden's wheeler from the van and transporting him to the trauma bay. Our footsteps are hurried, the wheeler's tires screeching over the marble surface in a cacophony with the sound of our footsteps. "One, two, three," the paramedic team calls out, transferring Aiden's body from the emergency wheeler to the gurney in one swift motion.I issue orders immedia
Hermione "That was a rendition I performed in middle school," I say. "You mean it's been ages since you've practiced? I felt like I was watching a performance from a professional." "I haven't performed publicly since middle school," I clarify. "I continued practicing privately after I became a doctor." "You looked passionate. You would have thrived if you had pursued ballet. You're good at everything." I snort. "Says the man who has a network of businesses." He rolls his eyes, smiling.We are still locked in each other's embrace, dancing slowly to a slow melody that fills the air. I cup Aiden's shoulder, resting my head on his chest as we both sway gently to the rhythm. "It was my dream to be a ballerina," I say, opening up to Aiden about my desires, Mom's discouragement, and Dad's unproductive support. The first and last time I had performed ballet, Dad had attended to support me. Mom, well, I didn't expect anything from her. The audience had been hugely impressed with my per
Hermione I rub my arm as I walk towards Aiden, having managed to calm down during the drive while taking in the scenery. We both get into Aiden's car, and he begins to drive away from the woods."Are you calm now?" Aiden asks, his eyes fixed on the road. I nod, briefly sucking in my upper lip before exhaling. Aiden glances at me. "What happened?" He had examined my face earlier in the woods, clearly relieved to see that I'm unharmed. I sense that he's trying to determine if my mother had struck me again, prompting my reaction.I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I may be officially jobless soon," I say nonchalantly. The pay cut is set to take effect in two days, and it's possible this could escalate to termination of my employment."Did she explicitly mention laying you off?" Aiden asks, looking astonished. While she didn't say it outright, I suspect my mother wouldn't let my earlier behavior go without consequences.I shrug. "I don't know. I just bailed on work today. I feel off-ba
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