LOGINSara married to Lucas. In order to support her husband, Sara is willing to live simply and work as an ordinary clerk at her family's shopping center, without receiving a penny from her family's inheritance. She became the backbone of the household, providing for Lucas and his family, believing that her love and sacrifice would be rewarded. However, those sacrifices turned into wounds when Sara learned that Lucas was having an affair with a woman who had been considered his business partner. To make matters worse, the business she had helped build became a tool for Lucas to betray her. Not wanting to be victimized any longer, Sara decided to stand up. She returned to her family and used all her resources to destroy Lucas. With her intelligence, she slowly took over the business that she had helped grow, leaving Lucas pressed and losing ground. Sara utilized her father's connections to pressure Lucas' investors to withdraw their support. She also manipulated distribution channels, making it difficult for Lucas's company to secure raw material supplies. However, Lucas is not a man to give up easily. He tried to turn things around by threatening Sara with a secret document that could destroy Sara's family's reputation. Sara is faced with a dilemma: let Lucas off the hook to protect her family, or keep bringing him down despite having to face huge consequences. At the end of the story, Sara finds a way to get rid of Lucas without destroying her family. She works with the authorities to frame Lucas, proving that he has committed tax evasion and financial manipulation in the company he manages. Lucas is eventually arrested, and his business is completely destroyed. However, before he was completely defeated, Lucas made one last threat: that he would come back and take revenge.
View More"How do you do, Honey?" Lucas' whisper in my ear with his hand wrapped around my stomach sounded so sensual. I really liked this man's voice especially when he whispered like this. The blood in my body heats up. A heat that makes me want to feel his warmth immediately.
However, I can't. I'm already late for work. No matter how much I wanted to curl up in a blanket with this man, I couldn't miss my work. "I'm making pancakes. This is the only breakfast I can cook today," I replied. "Hmm." He murmurs right in the crook of my neck. "Luke," I tried to avoid. "I'm late." Lucas exhales harshly. "Okay," he says. Somehow, no matter what the circumstances, Lucas never protested if something annoying involved my work. He would understandably let me get on with what I was doing. I smiled. After that, we passed breakfast quietly. At nine o'clock, I arrived at work. Natty was already at the cash register. I wasn't late, but my arrival was out of the ordinary. Normally, I would arrive at least fifteen minutes before work starts. She smiled at me. "It's okay, Sara. Don't make a face," she said. I shrugged. "Well, I need this job so much. I can't make me lose a job for coming late. I should have come earlier." Natty rolled her eyeballs. "Our boss was never even here. She or he would't notice anything except for our sales." "Well, you have the point, but that was never my point." "Whatever," she retorted. She looked annoyed, but believe me, she was the only person who made me feel comfortable to keep working here even though the risks were very high. One of them is being the target of the rich people's wrath. Ever since I was little, I've been unable to hear high voices. It wasn't because of trauma or anything like that. It's just that my parents never raised their voices in front of me even though they were very angry. Mom and Dad would be quiet or avoid me for some time, and then we would talk with a cool head. A customer returned a set of clothes she bought a month ago. She said the clothes were too small on her. We couldn't accept it because it had exceeded the deadline. Also, there was no receipt. The customer, in full consciousness, berated me in front of other customers who were shopping. I was already shaking. I was on the verge of tears. Fortunately, Natty took over. The brave woman firmly confronted her until the customer gave up and left with an expletive coming out of her mouth. "Don't be afraid of women like that, Sara. She can only take refuge behind her wealthy husband's name." Her words made me feel better. I laughed sarcastically to myself. What made me feel better? I just felt worse. That woman can use her husband's money as she pleases, while me? I have to use my own money to feed the four adults living in the house. "Sara!" Natty's shout brought me back to the present. Destroying the envy that came back after remembering her. "Yes?" Natty leaned closer, putting her lips to my ear. "The owner of this shopping center is coming to our store," she whispered. I gasped. My throat suddenly felt very dry, not knowing how to respond to the information Natty had just given me. I just stood there, frozen. Apparently, my condition surprised Natty, so she tapped me on the shoulder a little hard. "What's wrong?" "Ah....," I stammered. "No, nothing. I-I just... I was wondering who the richest person was," I continued, ending with an awkward smile. Natty shrugged. "Well, no one ever knows. They were very secretive. The only legendary rumor I know is that they have a child. Whether male or female, it's also a mystery." I cleared my throat awkwardly. The family I worked for was quite mysterious. They were very private. I knew enough, but I didn't talk much to Natty. I just listened without responding. "If it's a boy, and they're looking for a daughter-in-law, I'll do whatever it takes to get on their search radar." Natty raved incessantly about this wealthy family. "Didn't most rich people already have their own candidates?" Natty let out an exasperated breath. "That's right," she said. I laughed softly, then went back to my work; checking the clothes one by one, so that no rejected items were sold to customers. SOP that must be carried out every day. The loss was more than double if I accidentally sold a defective item, and that was the amount of my salary for six months. I shuddered at the thought of losing four months' salary, while all the expenses in my house relied on that money. We could go into debt or even starve to death if that happened. *** I staggered towards the apartment door. The elevator to my place was quite close, but it felt very far. I was exhausted. There were so many customers today, I even cut down my rest time to improve my sales record. I need to get as many bonuses as possible. There's something I have to buy, and it can't be with my salary money. Huh! When will I be able to manage so much money without worrying about my basic needs being compromised? In fact, it was very tiring. I often thought about giving up, but I loved my husband very much. I know he's also trying hard with his business. There is no instant business that can generate wealth in a short period of time. As long as we still support each other, I think I can survive. Apparently, love can drive anyone crazy. Including the most spoiled woman like me. The old me, how could I possibly do everything by myself, especially when it comes to cooking. There was mom who always did it for me. There was dad who would happily fill my savings every month without having to be asked, without me doing anything other than being the family's favorite sweet child. See me now? Besides being a waitress at a clothing store, I'm also a servant to the parents of the man I love. That's how easily love changed me. I frowned when the door wouldn't open even after entering the security pin many times. I set this pin. Using the door in front of me at all times. It's also impossible for me to forget because the security code is a combination of important dates in my life. Then, why couldn't it open? I tried to calm down. My right hand reached into the bag slung over my left shoulder, looking for a cell phone to call Lucas. Maybe I had forgotten, or something had happened while I was working. The crease on my forehead deepens when I hear the ringtone of my husband's cell phone ring, but he doesn't answer my call. Was he sleeping? I kept trying to call him. There was no answer either. I tried again and again. At the end, I called my mother-in-law. Hopefully nothing would happen. "Hello, Auntie. The password I entered is wrong. Do you change the password?" "Don't call me!" The phone just disconnected. What was going on? My in-laws have never been friendly, but never this rude. Seriously, I'm so tired right now. The only thing I wanted right now was to take a shower and sleep, not stand in front of the door of a house that couldn't be opened at all-by me, the owner. I exhaled roughly. It's exhausting. I try calling Lucas once more time. I could still hear it ringing, but again it went unanswered. What was wrong with everyone? I really feel furious now. If this keeps up, where am I going to rest? That's fine. I'll try to calm down. Inhale, then exhale. I did the breathing technique a few times. After feeling a little better, I called my husband back. I almost smiled when Lucas answered. However, the smile disappeared before it even appeared, after Lucas said something that really pierced my solar plexus. It left me speechless, so that the tiredness I'd been feeling all day seemed to vanish into thin air.By July, the Midwest heat had settled over Lake Michigan, softening the sharp city edges into a warm, shimmering haze. The annual Smith-König Foundation Gala wasn't held in the cold, cavernous ballrooms of a downtown hotel. Instead, we opened the manicured grounds of the North Point estate. Strings of warm fairy lights stretched between the high pine boughs down to the water’s edge, illuminating dozens of white linen tables, live acoustic jazz, and hundreds of guests ranging from city planners and local trade apprentices to international investors. I stood on the elevated stone patio wearing a sleeveless emerald silk gown, my dark hair pinned back in an elegant twist. The silver signet ring rested against my right hand, while the platinum band gleamed under the soft terrace lighting. A quiet step approached from behind, and the faint, familiar scent of cedar and amber wrapped around me. Matthias slid his arm around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. He looked devast
The late August heat began to break just as the sun dipped behind the western tree line, casting long, violet shadows across the manicured lawns of the estate. Inside the main villa, the quiet was absolute—a soothing contrast to the whirlwind of the past few months. In the kitchen, the scent of freshly brewed dark roast coffee filled the air. Natty sat at the island counter, a tablet propped open in front of her as she reviewed the initial floor plans for the new regional art center. She looked up as I entered, her face breaking into a bright, easy smile. "The permits cleared town council this morning," Natty said, turning the screen slightly toward me. "No delays, no last-minute challenges. It’s completely clean." I leaned against the counter, taking a warm mug from her. "You made quick work of that." "We’ve done this enough times now, Sara," Natty replied, her tone warm with a deep, familiar affection. "When the foundation is solid, things fall into place." She was right.
The late-summer sun began its slow descent into the western horizon, painting the sky above the open bay in vast, sweeping streaks of amber, rose, and deep indigo. The Iron Sovereign lay resting at anchor in the quiet cove, dropping its berth far out of sight from any municipal coastline or commercial shipping lane. The water around the hull was so smooth and glassy it mirrored the changing colors of the evening sky without a single ripple. Down in the main cabin, the warm amber glow of recessed lamps illuminated polished teak paneling and high linen upholstery. The high-strung, endless chatter of market feeds was absent; the wide media screens remained dark, reflecting only the calm interior of the ship. I sat at the small built-in desk near the aft window, running a fountain pen over a leather journal. For the first time since taking over the Chairmanship, I wasn't auditing offshore transfers or preparing emergency press statements. I was simply writing down project goals f
The morning sun broke over the lake in brilliant sheets of pale amber, burning away the lingering spring mist along the North Point shore.Inside the glass-walled sunroom of the main house, the air was warm and quiet, carrying the faint, sweet scent of blooming white jasmine from the terrace pots. The space was filled with natural timber furniture, soft cream linen, and low bookshelves crowded with architectural volumes, legal histories, and leather-bound notebooks.I sat at the corner table with my legs drawn up under a soft knit cardigan, a fresh cup of Earl Grey tea steaming beside a thick, bound ledger with completely blank cream pages.For years, every notebook I owned had been filled with urgent directives—debts to settle, corporate proxies to counter, legal loopholes to patch, and survival strategies mapped out line by line. Holding a pen over a page with nothing that needed to be solved was a quiet, almost disorienting luxury.A heavy, familiar step sounded on the hardwoo
I woke up to a small noise coming from the kitchenette. At first, I thought Matt was just thirsty. But when I got up and opened the bedroom door, I saw him standing in the middle of the living room, lighting small candles placed on the floor, forming... the letters S and M. “Matt?” He turned ar
That morning, the office atmosphere was heavier than usual. Like there was something in the air that made everyone move a little faster, speak a little more quietly. I walked towards my room, the employees' eyes occasionally glancing over-maybe because of the audit report that was circulating, or
The following days felt like our world consisted of only two people—Matthias and me. It was as if we had managed to steal a little time from the universe to hide away.I woke up first. The sunlight fell on Matthias's face as he slept soundly beside me. His hair was slightly messy, and there was a f
I woke up when the morning light slipped through the thin curtains. The sound of roosters crowing in the distance reminded me that I was not in Berlin or New York, but in a small village in Sumatra, in a simple room that somehow felt warmer than any hotel suite.My hand was still trapped in Matthia






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