Masuk
Nilah’s pov
The 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 dramatic Nilah, everyone has bad days.” He said.
But this wasn’t a bad day… This was three years of bad days compressed into a single moment of realization so it hurts.
The front door clicked open, I didn't turn around, I didn’t need to, I knew the sound of his footsteps, it was quick… already mentally a few steps ahead into whatever deals he was closing. The faint scent of jasmine perfume followed him inside.
It wasn’t mine, I wore a chocolate body spray from the drugstore because expensive perfume made my skin sore.
Jasmine… Vanessa’s signature perfume.
“You’re home early.” My voice sounded inaudible even to my ears.
Marcus dropped his suitcase by the door with a heavy thud. “The board meeting went short, where’s dinner?
Where’s dinner? Now how was your day? Or I missed you or any of the things he used to say when we had first gotten married, back when I was still prettier and new, before he realized I didn’t fit into his world the way Vanessa did.
“I wasn’t hungry so I didn’t make any.” I finally turned to look at him, the sight of him made my chest ache. This six-foot-five man with a sharp jawline and perfectly styled brown hair, wearing a suit that cost more than what my bookstore made in a month. He loosened his tie.. the. The brown one I had gifted him on our last anniversary that he never wore because Vanessa had called it ‘old-fashioned’ at the office party.
I had heard her since I was standing not too far from them, sipping some fruit juice while watching my husband smile at her like she had said something so cute rather than cruel.
Marcus stared at me with his icy blue eyes that used to soften at the sight of me but now he barely spared me a glance before returning to his phone. “Nilah, I don't have time for your moods tonight, I have the Castellano contract to review.”
“One of my moods?” I repeated the words slowly with a bitter tone. “Is this what we’re calling it now?
“Calling what?” He was already walking towards his office, dismissing me with a wave of his hand, the same way he had been doing for months. Maybe years, when did it start? When had I become invincible to him?
“The fact that you came home smelling like her again!” This wasn’t the first nor second time, it had somehow become a routine for him, even after I had told him about my ugly past with her, she had been my high school bully and I could never forgive her for what she had done to me.
He stroked his hair, his shoulders tense beneath his custom Tom Ford jacket, the one Vanessa had helped him pick out because she had ‘better taste’ than me.
“Gosh, Nilah, not again.” He exclaimed, spinning around, and there it was, the irritation. He barely hid it like he used to do. “Vanessa is my assistant and is always around me, we work together closely, that’s what happens in the corporate world, maybe if you spent less time hiding in that forsaken bookstore and spent more time trying it in your life.”
“I tried “ the words exploded from my lips. “I did, Marcus I tried so hard, I went to corporate dinners even when those women looked down on me for not fitting in, I took business courses, I changed my clothes, even my hair just to fit in for you.” My voice cracked. “I changed myself and it still wasn’t enough, I wasn’t enough.”
He ran his hand through his hair, messing the perfect style, it was a gesture he did when he was frustrated but trying to keep his cool. “Nilah, it’s not fair.”
“Is it?” I moved closer and my eyes caught sight of the faint lipstick smudge on his collar, a blush pink, Vanessa shade. She had worn it to our wedding three years ago and made a joke about how it was wedding-appropriate but too sexy for the office.
I smiled, pretending not to notice that his eyes had followed her across the reception. “When was the last time you touched me? Really touched me?”
“We fucked last week.”
“In the dark Marcus, for three minutes, and then you went to the shower to have a call with her.” The memory burned in my head like acid, I had pressed my face against the pillow crying my eyes out. “That’s not touching, that’s just going on with it like I’m…”
“What do you want from me Nilah?” His voice rose defensively. “I work sixty hours a week trying to build something that would make me give you everything…. This penthouse, the credit card with no limit, the car, or even the bookstore that barely…”
“I never asked for any of that.” My hands were shaking so badly that I clasped them together. “I’m asking just for you… I’m asking for the man I once loved, I hate this empty feeling you portray towards me like you’ve lost interest in me.”
Something flickered across his face, guilt perhaps or annoyance that I was taking up his time.
“Nilah.” He sighed in exhaustion. “I think we both know this isn’t working.”
The words hung in the air.
“What isn’t working?” I asked, seeming clueless. God knows I had known for months, maybe longer, but I just couldn't face it.
“Us, this marriage, we want different things.. you want… I don’t know, some dreamy life like there aren’t no worries in this world, but I’m building something that needs a partner with me, someone who understands business, dinners not someone who prefers to read and write off our own life”
“Someone like Vanessa?” The name left a bitter taste in my mouth. His silence was more than enough for me to understand.
Every time I had blamed myself for not being enough, all those nights I had stressed out when he had called to say he was coming home late, only to hear that witch lurking around him, making him come back with bites he claimed an insect bit him.
“She suits my life better.” He continued coldly. “Vanessa understands the world I’m in, the urge to climb the social ladder while claiming what I've always wanted.” He added.“She comes from a wealthy family as well.”
The tears I had been holding back were finally sliding down my cheeks. “I’ve finally become boring to you, haven’t I?” I asked.
“I never said you were boring.” He claimed, yet his tone said otherwise.
“You don’t need to blurt it out, I can see your disappointed looks every day when you glance at me like she’s everything you ever needed.” I wiped my tears with the back of my hand.
“Vanessa and I are…”
“You’re having an affair with her.” I blurted out. “And I have evidence.” I carried an envelope that rested on the couch and flung it at him, he couldn’t get it quickly so it spilled. Pictures of them in intimate positions were spread across the floor.
He stared at it for a while before a smug smile appeared on his lips. “You finally got what you wanted, huh?” He scoffed. “Since you can’t just be a quiet bitch and instead decided to snoop around my… affair I would rather divorce you.”
That explains why I found the divorce papers in his office. How pathetic of me to think this was a mistake. I was shattered from within, all I ever wanted was a quiet and peaceful marriage with kids running about but that never happened, all he cared about was work and the little time he got he would rather spend it with Vanessa.
He pulled out a divorce file from his briefcase and passed it to me, my hands were still shaken in disbelief but I took it from him.
I had tried to make so many excuses for him but it had piled up so much that I couldn’t take it anymore. I signed my name on the highlighted lines and my signature, taking my own copy. I was going to be Nilah Mariel again, erasing three years of being Mrs. Lawinston like it never happened.
Marcus stared at the paper in disappointment like he had wanted me to beg, cry to stay, prove to him that I wasn’t with him, and cling to him as my life depended on it
“I’ll make sure your bookstore remains and you’re financially taken care of…”
“Keep your darn money.” I gritted my teeth before he could complete his words. “Go be with her so I won’t be a hindrance in your life.”
I grabbed my purse that I had kept not too far from me like I had seen this coming. I made my way towards the door, and he didn’t move an inch but watched me make my way out.
Goodbye Marcus, I hope she’s worth destroying what we had.
DARIENViktor, 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
NILAHThe small brass bell above the front glass door chimed loudly in the quiet shop.I set the silver scissors down on the wooden counter and looked up with a small, polite smile on my face. "Good afternoon! Welcome to Oakridge Green—"The words froze in my throat.Two men walked into the warm greenhouse. They were not local mountain people. They did not wear thick wool coats, knit caps, or snow boots like the townsfolk.They wore long, heavy black leather jackets, dark dress pants, and clean black leather shoes that were already melting snow onto the clean concrete floor. The man on the left was tall and thin, with pale skin, cold blue eyes, and a long red scar running down his left cheek. The man on the right was shorter, broad-shouldered, with a shaved head and dark, mean eyes that looked around the quiet shop like a wolf searching for sheep.They did not look at the green plants. They did not look at the colorful flowers. They looked straight at me.The tall man with the scar re
DARIENThe cold morning sun reflected brightly off the high snowdrifts outside my second-floor window.I sat at my long wooden desk in the brick building across the street from the greenhouse. My black laptop was open in front of me, its small screen showing financial reports and shipping logs from the city. Beside the computer sat a plain ceramic mug filled with lukewarm black coffee.Across the quiet, snow-covered road, I could see the tall glass walls of the greenhouse. Every few minutes, I would look up from my screen and glance through the window.Nilah was down there, moving slowly down the green central aisle. She wore a thick grey sweater, a green linen apron tied around her narrow waist, and yellow rubber boots. She carried a small red watering can in her hands, carefully pouring water over the roots of a row of small fern potted plants.She looked peaceful. The sharp, terrified look that had filled her dark eyes for three years had softened into something calm and quiet.A q
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
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
Nilah’s povWhat the hell had I done?I sat in my car, staring at the mansion I had once called home, the perfectly trimmed garden stretched towards a fountain. Everything was just as I had remembered.Beautiful, warm, and inviting.My phone buzzed with a text from a number I didn't recognize. “The







