Shawn's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the divorce papers in his hand. "What is this, Alisa?" he asked, his voice trembling. "It would be Miss Reynolds to you soon," she replied, her voice devoid of emotion. "I'm done with you, and I'm done with this farce of a marriage." Shawn was taken aback by the coldness in her tone. This was the same woman who had once spoken to him with such love and affection. What had happened to her? "I thought you loved me," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. Alisa scoffed, her expression disdainful. "Cindy is back, and you think I'd stay with you? You want to have your cake and eat it too? Never." ### Alisa Randall's fairy-tale marriage to her childhood sweetheart, Shane Dallas, had ended in heartbreak when he left her for his first love, Cindy. But what Shane didn't know was that Alissa was the heiress to the country's largest fortune, with connections to Hollywood's elite and multiple identities at her disposal. Now, Shane was realizing his mistake, and he came crawling back to Alisa, tears streaming down his face. But would she take him back, or would she forge a new path, one that didn't include him?
View MoreChapter Forty-Two: You love her! “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Alice said softly, stroking Cindy’s hair. “You’ll only have to pay a penalty.” Cindy’s eyes darted up, wide with fear. “Are you sure? I won’t go to jail, right?” “No, you won’t,” Alice assured her, though her own tone wavered. “You just woke up from a coma. Don’t worry. Take your bath—they’ll be coming soon.” But Cindy was not relieved. Nothing in Alice’s words could comfort her. She did not want to be arrested, and the thought of spending even a single day in a cell made her stomach churn. After her bath, she slipped into a comfortable long-sleeve gown, forced herself to eat, and swallowed her medication while she waited anxiously. The doorbell rang. Two uniformed officers stepped inside. One of them held up a folder. “Miss Cindy Reynolds? You need to come with us to the department.” Her heart thudded. Still, she managed to stand, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course.
Chapter Forty-One: My daughter The blare of car horns filled the driveway as vehicles swerved out of the way. A woman behind the wheel drove recklessly, cutting through traffic without a care. Inside the car, Cindy gripped the wheel tightly, her knuckles white, her eyes wild. Alissa’s words echoed in her mind: “You stole the designs.” “You bitch!” she screamed, slamming her hand against the horn. “You embarrassed me in front of everyone! How dare you!” Her eyes were glossy with tears, fury twisting her face. She took a swig from the half-empty whiskey bottle in her lap, her voice breaking into shrill sobs. “My parents took pity on you. I wish I never found you in that garage!” she spat, her voice trembling. “You ungrateful whore—slept with my husband, stole him from me, killed my child, and now you’re after my reputation? You witch!” She shook her head violently, nearly veering off the road. Another gulp of alcohol burned down her throat. “I know y
Chapter Forty: I proud of youAfter the hotel tour, the guests were visibly impressed.“I have to say, Miss Colet Kincaid, you’ve pulled off something many people have failed to do. You are truly excellent,” said one of the guests—a wealthy firm owner with a satisfied nod. “And because I’ve seen this growth, I would like to purchase shares... if there are any available?”Hearing this, joy bloomed in Alissa’s chest, though she maintained a composed expression, determined not to look too eager. Fabrice Kincaid, standing beside her, nearly burst with excitement. He had personally invited his business associates, but never imagined they would want to invest.“I would also like to purchase shares,” another guest chimed in.“I would as well.”“Count me in too.”
Chapter thirty-nine: The room buzzed with whispers. Reporters muttered into their microphones. Phones were pulled out. Photographers zoomed in on Alissa’s stunned face, hoping to capture a reaction. Cindy stepped forward, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. “She was taken in by my parents when she had nothing. And this is how she repays us—by copying my work and humiliating my family in front of the world.” Alissa stood frozen. She hadn’t expected an ambush. Not here. Not tonight. Shane looked at her, uncertainty in his eyes. Even Asher’s jaw was tight with anger. “She stole the design?” one
Chapter thirty-eight: A fraud The hotel stood like a polished gem in the heart of the city—twenty-eight floors of splendor. A line of luxury cars pulled into the curved driveway, where a black carpet was unfurled across the steps. Cameras flashed as dignitaries, influencers, and foreign investors stepped out in sleek designer wear. There was laughter in the air. Champagne sparkled in crystal flutes. Reporters buzzed around like flies wrapped in silk. Inside the lobby, everything was pristine. The polished marble floors gleamed under the warm chandelier lights. Soft jazz played in the background as staff glided like shadows, adjusting details no one else would notice. Alissa stood near the check-in desk, clipboard in hand. She wore a fitted white power suit that hugged her figure like armor. Her hair was pulled into a low twist, her heels were tall, and her lips were painted a bold red. Beside her, Rophine leaned in and whispered, “The Minister just arrived.
Chapter thirty-seven While in her office, Cindy sat with her legs crossed on the desk, watching makeup tutorials on Instagram. A smile played on her lips as she focused on the screen. There was a knock at the door. A loud sigh escaped her lips. She groaned. "Who is it?" she called out irritably. "It's me, Linda," came the voice of her secretary. The door opened, and Linda walked in, clutching a large iPad. Her eyes scanned the room—there were chocolate wrappers scattered on the desk and an empty Dachey bottle beside them. Cindy still had her legs propped up on the table, her blouse unbuttoned low enough to reveal a generous cleavage. She hardly lo
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