LOGINIn a world where love's course is never predictable, Anastasia Perry's life took a dramatic turn on her wedding day. Upon discovering her groom, Matthew Smith had been cheating on her through a video. She made a heart-wrenching decision: to run away, leaving her own wedding in chaos. Now, two years later, Anastasia returns. Anastasia is now married to Matthew's uncle, Harry Smith. Her unexpected reappearance rocks Matthew's world. Harry and Anastasia are involved in a secret contract marriage in order to save his inheritance. The question lingers: Can Anastasia prevent herself from falling for Matthew all over again? As Harry finds himself falling for Anastasia, can he convince her to make their one-year contract permanent? Will Matthew's secret plans to destroy his uncle succeed? With emotions running high and a web of complicated choices to navigate, their story unfolds in a captivating dance of secrets, forgiveness, redemption, and the ultimate question: Can love truly conquer all?
View MoreAnastasia sat on the edge of her bed, her hands trembling as she scrolled through her phone. The images of Harry and Camille were everywhere. Pictures of them coming out of a restaurant. Anastasia could not help but see how Harry held the beautiful actress. Anastasia felt sick to her stomach. Her heart pounded against her ribs. The pain was physical, a sharp stab that made it hard to breathe. " No, this can’t be real," Anastasia kept muttering to herself as she struggled to breathe. She had spoken to Harry just last night. He had told her he was busy and had an early meeting. And yet, here he was, on the front page of every gossip blog, wrapped up in another woman. Tears blurred her vision, and her body got weaker. The phone slipped from her fingers, crashing onto the marble floor. A wave of dizziness hit her like a storm, and before she could even cry out, the darkness consumed her. Miriam, one of the domestic staff, knocked lightly on Anastasia’s bedroom door. "Madam, y
Anastasia stretched lazily under the soft sheets, her body still heavy from exhaustion. The previous night had been a blur of discussions, strategy, and whispered theories with Natasha. They had spent hours poring over security footage, trying to make sense of who could have betrayed her. She had hoped to speak to Harry—to hear his voice, to feel some semblance of reassurance. But he hadn’t come home. She had waited. And waited. At some point, her eyes had grown heavy, and sleep had claimed her before she could hear the sound of his footsteps in the hallway. With a sigh, Anastasia pushed herself up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She stripped off her lilac-coloured nightwear and stood before the full-length mirror. The reflection staring back at her was different. Her waist was still trim, but her breasts—fuller than before—hinted at the new life growing inside her. A slow smile curled her lips. She was going to be a mother. Excitement coursed through her veins, but it w
The restaurant was dimly lit, the soft flicker of candlelight casting golden hues across Camille’s face as she sipped her wine, her gaze locked onto Harry. The tension between them was thick, like a velvet rope pulling them together. Harry, slightly tipsy, leaned back in his chair, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He was fully aware of Camille’s game—she had always been a master of flirtation, using her beauty and charm like a finely honed weapon. “You’ve done a good job staying out of my reach,” Camille murmured, setting her glass down as she leaned in, her voice was as soft as silk. “Even when you know how much I’ve been dying to have you.” Harry smirked, shaking his head. “Camille, we’ve never seemed to be single at the same time.” Camille let out a soft, sultry laugh, her eyes gleaming as they travelled over him with deliberate slowness. “Oh, Harry…” she purred, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “You’re being coy. That’s not the real reason.” Harry arched
Anastasia sat on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she absently scrolled through her phone. She wasn’t reading anything—her mind was too clouded to focus. Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the screen, the only sound in the vast, quiet living room. The clock on the wall ticked away, marking each second that passed as she waited for her sister, Natasha, to arrive. Anastasia had called her the moment Harry stormed off, demanding answers she didn’t have. How had Matthew heard about the divorce? The only two people she had confided in were Natasha and Britney, and she trusted them both with her life. Her chest tightened as she replayed Harry’s furious words in her mind. "Why did you tell your lover that we were getting a divorce?" Matthew. The man who had used her over and over again. There is no way she would have betrayed Harry like that. But somehow, he knew and that was what Anastasia was confused about. How did he know? A car door slammed outside, pulling her






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