LOGINNilah Mariel traded her name, her money, and her family for one man. Three years ago, she walked out of her penthouse in heels and walked into a marriage with Marcus Lawinston, convinced he’d always choose her. He didn’t. Now she’s the wife he forgot to come home to, watching him build a life with someone else. The night she finally signs the divorce papers, she totals a stranger’s Bentley in the rain. Darien Castellano is everything she’s not supposed to want, he’s arrogant, too rich, and used to getting his way. He offers her a deal: be his date for one night, and he’ll forget the accident ever happened. It sounds simple. An escape. A night off from being the woman everyone left behind. It isn’t. One gala. One dance. One photo of her on Darien’s arm, and suddenly Marcus remembers who she is. Because Nilah isn’t just his ex-wife. She’s an heiress. Now she’s back in the world of old money, family expectations, and a man who looks at her like she’s the only person in the room. The question isn’t whether she wants revenge anymore. It’s whether she can stop before the fake thing with Darien starts feeling real.
View MoreDARIENViktor, the oldest captain at the table, leaned forward. His grey hair was cut short, and his face was lined with old scars. "Do we take the boys down to the docks and wipe them out tonight, Boss? Just give the word. We have enough men to clear his warehouse in an hour.""No," I said. "We aren't doing a street war."Nilah reached forward and picked up a thick black folder that Marko had placed on the table earlier. Inside were the real paper ledgers—the original records showing every fake bank account, every illegal bribe, and every shipment Julian and Moretti had stolen over the last five years.Nilah set the heavy folder down right in the middle of the polished wood table."Dominic Moretti thinks he controls the city because he has men with guns on the docks," Nilah said. Her voice was quiet, but it was crystal clear, cutting through the silence of the room.The eight captains turned their heads and looked at her, listening intently."But Moretti doesn't have his own money,"
Darien I pulled the black car into the underground parking garage beneath our apartment building. The engine died, and the cold quiet of the concrete garage filled the car. Rain was pouring hard outside, echoing down the air vents. I looked over at Nilah. She sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the blank grey wall. "We don't have to stay here tonight, Nilah," I said softly. "We can drive to a hotel downtown. We can stay anywhere you want." "No," Nilah said, her voice small but steady. "This is our home, Darien. We have spent three years running away from it. If we go to a hotel, we are just hiding again. We need to do this." I reached over and squeezed her hand. Her skin was cool, but her grip was firm. "Okay," I said. "Then we go up together." We got out of the car and walked to the private elevator at the end of the parking bay. I pressed the top button, and the heavy doors slid shut. The elevator rose quickly toward the penthouse. When the silver do
NilahOutside the passenger window, the high pine trees were covered in thick white snow. The sky above the valley was dark grey, heavy with cold clouds that promised another bitter blizzard before nightfall.Inside the truck, it was warm, but my chest felt completely frozen.Marko held the steering wheel with both hands, his dark eyes fixed on the icy road ahead. A short black steel shotgun rested against the middle console between our seats. His rough face was tense, his jaw clenched tight in absolute silence.I looked down at my hands resting in my lap. My fingers were still trembling slightly from the terrifying minutes in the greenhouse. I could still see the cold blue eyes of the tall man with the scar. I could still hear the harsh click of his heavy pistol pointed straight at my forehead.“Either way, Darien dies tonight.”The cruel words echoed inside my mind over and over again, sharper than the cold wind outside.For three long years, I had believed that running away was the
DARIENThe cold wind blew hard through the open window of my black car. I sat parked on the side of the snowy mountain trail, two miles south of town, staring at the dark silhouette of the old lumber mill.My right hand rested on the leather steering wheel. My heavy black bag, holding the paper ledgers, sat on the passenger seat beside me. The metal pistol was heavy and cold under my dark coat.A sharp, high-pitched alarm sounded from the dashboard.I looked down instantly. My private mobile phone, mounted beside the steering wheel, was flashing a bright red light across the dark interior of the car.It was the silent emergency signal. The silent alarm Clara had installed under the greenhouse counter had been pressed.My heart stopped completely. The blood in my veins turned to pure liquid ice.Nilah.I didn't think. I didn't hesitate.I slammed my heavy boot down flat against the gas pedal. The tires spun violently against the snow, throwing white ice into the air, and the black car
Darien’s povThe Bentley’s engine purred as I drove through the rain-slicked street, and my phone buzzed for the umpteenth time in less than five minutes. I knew it was my mother no doubt, definitely calling to remind me about her ‘wonderful opportunity’ dinner she had arranged next week.“Don’t th
Nilah’s povThe penthouse was quiet, I stood in the kitchen with my hands gripping the sink as I stared at the divorce papers, I tried remembering how to breathe.In… out…The same way my therapist had taught me before I had stopped going because Marcus said I didn’t need one."You're being dramati
NILAHThe silence in the grand ballroom was loud, it felt heavier than the rain that had ruined my car hours ago, making my head spin as I tried to process what my father had just blurted out from the podium.Hundreds of eyes shifted from my father, following his proud gaze, until they locked direc
Nilah povAt exactly five the dress arrived.I stood in my childhood bedroom staring at it for a full minute before I even dared to touch it.Midnight blue, floor length with a neckline that dipped just low enough to say ‘I know exactly what I’m doing’ and a slit that climbed too high up on one thi






Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.
reviews