FLORENCE’S POV
On the night of my husband’s birthday, I placed the cake I’d spent five hours making on the dining table, feeling a flicker of hope. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe he’d walk in, see the effort I’d put in, and smile—really smile—like he used to. Maybe, just for one night, we could be something close to happy.
The front door beeped. My heart skipped, anticipation bubbling in my chest. I turned, ready to greet him.
Just as Mason spotted the cake, his face turned sour.
“Didn’t I tell you not to do this?” he sighed, “I have a jet waiting to take me to Chicago right now.”
Even tired from his long day, he looked handsome in his tailor-made designer suit, like the wealthy, powerful CEO he was.
I took the cake plate in my hands and went up to him, a big smile on my face. But he didn’t look as happy to see me.
“Just take one bite of the cake,” I begged. “It’s your favorite, and I made it myself!”
He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Florence, I only came to collect my coat. If you really want to help me, please fetch it for me.”
It was like a slap to the face. In the five years we’ve been married, I’ve only ever seen his beautiful face show expressions of sadness or anger. I haven’t seen a smile since… since the thing happened that we don’t talk about anymore.
Right now, I had no choice but to keep the cake aside and fetch the coat so he could go on his way.
As he took the coat from my hand, something fell out: a small silver sterling ring.
I picked it up, and there it was in the engraving… a name I hadn’t seen or heard in eight years.
Jade.
My world spun around me, and I felt like I was falling.
“Mason…?”
“What now?” he asked, putting on his coat.
I held up the ring, catching the light. His expression turned cold. A refreshing change from sadness and anger, but not a change I welcomed.
He took two steps forward and snatched the ring from my hand.
“That is clearly not yours.”
“What is that?” I asked.
“Nothing! Don’t touch it again.”
“Why does it have her name on it!?” I screamed.
His phone rang.
“I don’t have time for this.” Turning on his heel, he practically ran out of the door, leaving me with tears streaming down my face.
The ‘Happy Birthday’ banner mocked me from above the door. Bit by bit, I tore down all the festive decorations, cursing myself for being so naive. I had set up the house for a surprise party that weekend, but I should have known Mason would make his own plans.
Just as he has every single year.
As I ripped down all the banners, balloons, and flowers, I tossed them to the floor, not caring where or how they fell.
Why did I keep trying? I had known since our childhood this would always be the way.
Those memories came flooding back, uncomfortable, raw, and ugly.
Back then, it was just me, Mason, and Jade. We were the unbreakable trio, absolutely inseparable.
Well, Jade and Mason were inseparable, and I was the third wheel. The tagalong.
I had always loved Mason in secret, always listening to him about his dreams, frustrations, and even his crushes. He told me about his perfect older brother, Clarke, who was set to take over the family business, Whitehill International. He told me about his overly strict parents who loved Clarke more.
And he told me way too much about his crush on Jade Thorne.
Perfect Jade. Beautiful Jade. My best friend, Jade.
I couldn’t do anything but bury my feelings and try to be happy for them. After all, it made sense. They made a lovely couple. Both rich, both sophisticated, both part of glamorous high society.
I didn’t fit into their world, so I had to be happy they let me be part of it.
I lied to myself that it was enough.
But eight years ago, on a camping trip, everything changed.
I remembered the cold night air, the scent of damp earth, the distant sound of crickets filling the silence. We had wandered too close to the ledge, and our flashlight batteries were close to dead.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Jade had laughed. “What if we’re found by, like, a bear? Or a murderer?”
I smirked. “You’re the one who wanted an adventure.”
She rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, well, I meant, like, roasting marshmallows. Not wandering around in the dark like serial killer bait.”
“Relax. Mason is close by, what’s the worst that could happen?”
The moment the words left my mouth, a sudden crack split through the air—a gunshot? A fallen branch? I never found out.
Jade gasped, stumbling backward, her boot skidding against loose gravel. Instinctively, I reached for her, but my own footing gave way beneath me. The world tilted, the stars above spinning wildly as we plunged into nothingness.
The scream never fully left my throat before we hit the rocks below.
Pain. Blinding, searing pain shot through my body, pinning me to the ground. The sharp scent of blood mixed with damp moss, and somewhere above, the wind howled through the trees.
“Jade?” My voice barely rose above a whisper.
No answer.
I forced my eyes open, searching, blinking through the haze. I couldn’t see anything, and before I could force myself up, I fell unconscious.
I don’t remember much after that—only the faint glow of flashlights, the distant voices calling our names, and the hospital.
Then Mason.
He was already there when I woke up, standing stiffly by the window. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the room, the beeping of monitors the only sound between us.
He didn’t need to say it… I already knew he wished Jade had survived.
And sometimes, even I thought the same. Then maybe Jade and Mason would have gotten their “happily ever after”. Sadly, it wasn’t so.
The police couldn’t find Jade. They concluded she must have been swept away by the river. Her death left a silence between Mason and me, a silence filled with unspoken grief and guilt.
Ever since the accident, Jade was a name Mason could never say again. And he never did.
Years had passed, and I thought Mason had left the past behind. Now that I was his wife, I believed my years of unwavering love would one day make him truly see me.
But here we are, eight years later, with Jade’s personal things falling out of his coat.
Why is he still holding on to that after all this time? Is this the reason he still won’t look at me or talk to me like a husband?
Was he ever going to love me the way he loved Jade?
The only man who could answer me was Mason, and he was on a flight to Chicago.
A bad feeling coiled around me, suffocating me. I could pretend I never saw the ring and just keep being the good wife I’ve been for all these years.
But this time was different.
I had a sinking feeling that my peaceful life was about to come to an end.
JADE’S POVAs I pushed open the door, the faint jingle of the bell overhead made me wince. A couple in the corner turned to look. I hated being watched now, even by strangers. My heart was thudding for no reason, and I realized my fingers were clenched into fists inside my coat pockets. The warmth of the café hit me like a wave—too cozy for the kind of conversation I was about to have.Tucked into a narrow street behind a bookstore, it was all dim lighting, mismatched chairs, and a chalkboard menu that hadn’t changed in six months. A single ceiling fan spun half-heartedly overhead. It smelled like stale espresso and cinnamon—comfortable, but not memorable. Which was exactly why Daniel chose it.He was already seated when I walked in, tapping the edge of his phone against the table, his other hand wrapped around a chipped coffee mug. His eyes lifted to meet mine and narrowed the second he saw my face.“You’ve been crying,” he said.“No,” I lied, slipping into the seat across from hi
JADE’S POVThe house was too quiet at night. Even the walls felt like they were listening.I’d timed it perfectly. Serena was out at some spa appointment, and Mason was locked in his room, avoiding everyone like a brooding anti-hero. The staff retired early, and the guards rarely came near the east wing once the clock hit ten. Which meant I had twenty, maybe thirty minutes max.I slipped inside Howard’s office and shut the door behind me, pressing my back to the polished wood like I was waiting to be shot.No footsteps. No shadows under the door.I exhaled and walked straight to the desk.The computer screen flickered to life with the touch of a key.Still password-locked.I tried everything I remembered: birthdays, middle names, company initials, even “Mason123” because Howard didn’t strike me as very creative.Nothing.“Come on…” I hissed, glancing over my shoulder.And then I remembered what Daniel said a few months ago, in that condescending way he loved so much.“Security system
FLORENCE’S POVI didn’t remember locking the car or thanking the driver.I barely remembered the elevator ride up to the fourth floor.All I could feel was the rhythm of my footsteps—too fast, too loud—and the way my heart knocked against my ribs like it wanted to get to him before I did.He was awake.My father was awake.And I didn’t know what to feel.Relief was obvious. That came first. But close behind it, like a shadow trailing light, came fear.What if this played out like a movie and he’d lost his memory? What if he hated that I cut a deal with the Whitehills to get him out of prison?What if, deep down, I wasn’t his little girl anymore?Dr. Khatri was already waiting near the double doors of the ICU. He offered me a soft smile and that usual tilt of his head that always made bad news sound survivable.“He’s stable,” the doctor said, walking with me toward the room. “Still weak, though. Don’t be alarmed by his voice being weak. Just take it slow.”I nodded wordlessly.He open
RAIDEN’S POVThe house had been… unnervingly peaceful. Joy had been… soft.She’d been humming.Not loudly, not even consistently. But occasionally, I’d catch the sound as I walked down the hallway—her voice, low and tuneless, trailing some old melody while she picked flowers from the garden or stood at the kitchen counter making tea. She was even redecorating. First, the guest washroom got new towels and diffuser sticks. Then the old portraits in the hallway were swapped for abstract art I didn’t recognize. Last week, she had an entire marble basin fitted in the powder room, saying it would add “texture and luxury.”If she weren’t so terrifyingly persistent, I’d almost call her domestic.That morning, I found myself sitting in the garden, the one patch of this house untouched by drama. The hedges were trimmed, the jasmine vines in bloom. A bit of peace in a world that felt like it was about to collapse at any second.I was halfway through replying to an email when Hope plopped hers
JADE’S POVThe second I heard footsteps in the hallway, I slid under the mahogany desk like a thief. My breathing halted, my body flattened against the cold floor, and I counted the heartbeats pounding in my ears.Not now. Not when I was so close.Leather soles clicked against the marble floor—measured, familiar, deliberate.Mason.I recognized the sound of his gait before I even saw his shoes step into the room.Panic twisted in my gut.Why was he here? He never came into his father’s office after dark.I could see his feet now, pausing in the doorway. My lungs ached. I hadn’t breathed since he entered.If he found me, what would I say? Think, Jade. Think fast.Excuse number one: I got lost. This mansion was massive—plenty of rooms, winding hallways, identical corridors. Maybe I’d wandered in looking for a bathroom.Excuse number two: I wanted to leave a gift for Howard. A thoughtful gesture from the mother of his future grandchild. Sweet. Innocent.Excuse number three: I was hopin
MASON’S POVThe moment I walked into the house, Jade descended on me like a fluttering butterfly, a wide-eyed expression of hope and excitement on her face.“Hi, Mason!” Her voice had a carefully rehearsed sweetness. “I’ve been waiting for you all day.”I forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. “Hi, Jade.”She linked her arm through mine before I could take two steps toward the stairs. “Come, you have to see some nursery ideas. I’ve narrowed it down to two—celestial stars or enchanted forest. Personally, I think the stars would be so much more sophisticated, don’t you?”I felt a vague ache in my temple but nodded anyway. “Sure, Jade, whatever you like.”She frowned, sensing my detachment. “Mason, it’s your baby, too. I want your input.”“I know,” I sighed, rubbing my eyes. “But you have better taste than me. Pick what makes you happy.”She hesitated, and for a second, something flickered in her eyes—an uncertainty or maybe even a suspicion—but then it vanished be
MASON’S POVBeing thrown out of Florence’s office hurt more than I thought it would. Like a knife to the ribs… clean and quick. It shouldn’t have hurt that much, because I absolutely deserved it.I’d never seen her like that—so detached. Like she’d cut the cord between us with a surgeon’s precision. And the worst part was… she didn’t even raise her voice.How the hell did she find out?About Jade. About the pregnancy. About the night I barely remembered.It felt like everything was falling apart in slow motion. My body was still moving, still going through the motions of my day, but inside I was frozen. Numb.I needed answers.I found Clarke on the rooftop of The Signet Club downtown, one of our usual spots growing up when we wanted to smoke cigars, complain about our parents, or pretend we were running empires already.Now, it just looked like the kind of place I wanted to set on fire.“Did you tell Florence?” I asked without greeting. “About Jade?”Clarke turned to face me, a glas
FLORENCE’S POV“What the hell is he talking about?” Annalise turned to me so fast she nearly dropped the phone.Rosa and Blake, on the other hand, were positively glowing.“You’re having Raiden’s baby?” Blake practically squealed. “Florence! That’s huge!”“I knew it,” Rosa muttered with a grin, smacking the table. “I knew something was going on with you two! I could feel it!”“Wait—are you serious?” Annalise gaped at me. “You didn’t tell me? Me?! Your unpaid therapist-slash-best friend-slash-future babysitter?!”All three of them were now talking over each other, the sound of their overlapping voices melting into the busy street noises outside our car. And then there was Clarke.“Wait—are you saying I’ve been on speaker this whole time?” he suddenly cut in, his voice sharpening.“Oh my god,” I muttered. “Guys, stop—stop talking—” I tried, but they weren’t listening.“I knew it from the moment you started glowing—”“Wait, but you just had wine in the bistro!”“Wait till I tell Raiden h
FLORENCE’S POVI staggered back to the table, my mind whirling as I tried to process what I’d just witnessed. Jason Holland and Serena Montclair—lipstick smudged, hair tousled, guilty eyes. The shock was a wave crashing against my chest, stealing my breath.I collapsed into my chair, mouth dry, eyes unfocused.“Flo?” Blake’s voice was full of concern. “You look… Are you okay?”“Wine,” I rasped, frantically waving for the waiter. He hurried over, clearly alarmed by my distress. “A glass of red, please. Quickly.”“Hey!” Annalise leaned across the table. “I thought we were all going sober in solidarity tonight!”“Not today,” I replied, voice flat, heart pounding. “I need a real drink.”The waiter rushed back, placing the glass in front of me. I snatched it, draining every drop without hesitation. Rosa’s eyes widened, and Blake looked genuinely terrified.“What the hell happened in that bathroom?” Rosa asked, visibly uneasy.“Another,” I said, setting the glass down hard enough to make e