It was really Harry. Anastasia looked at him, and she couldn't speak. He just turned and walked out. Anastasia was confused, she was unsure whether to go after him or go back inside.
A decision had to be made fast and just as she was still contemplating, she heard Matthew call, " Sweetheart,". "Who is at the door?" Matthew asked from inside. Anastasia quickly made a decision. "A lady," she answered and came back inside, shutting the door behind her. "Why didn't she come in?" Matthew asked. Anastasia continued her lie, "She just saw me and left." "That is strange," Matthew said. This was her chance to confront him. "Is it really strange that you're a cheat? That you cheated on me throughout our relationship? Or is it more strange that I'm here with you after how badly you treated me?" she said, pouring out her feelings. "Anastasia, I swear on my life, I never cheated on you. I love you dearly. You hurt me when you left without a word, no explanation, no closure," Matthew said, with tears in his eyes. Anastasia's heart started to soften. He took her hand and led her to the living room. They both sat on the couch. "Tell me, Ana, what really happened that morning of our wedding," Matthew asked. As she told him everything, the memories of that day came flooding back. It felt like it happened yesterday. "Ana, you should have confronted me and given me a chance to explain ", Matthew said, "I don't know who you saw in that video, but it wasn't me ", he added. Anastasia knew what she saw that day. Looking at him and seeing how sincere he was, Anastasia felt stupid, she was really regretting not confronting him that day. Anastasia was in a dilemma. Her plans of revenge were fueled by her pain from what he did to her but after listening to Matthew, Anastasia was more confused. After Anastasia had gone, Matthew suddenly felt exhausted. Convincing Anastasia that he hadn't cheated on her turned out to be easier than he had anticipated. But he felt suddenly drained, a lot was at stake. If Anastasia didn't fall in love with him again and leave his uncle Harry, Matthew knew he would lose the company. All he needed was for Anastasia to walk away from her marriage with Harry and the company would be his forever. He had prepared himself a nice bath and was soaking in the bath when he perceived her perfume. Matthew didn't need to look up to know who it was, her perfume announced to her, her perfume was one of a kind. "You really need to return my house keys", he muttered. Matthew opened her eyes to find her leaning on the wall opposite the bathtub. "Is Anastasia back in our lives ?", she asked and Matthew picked up his glass of vodka and took a sip. "A lot is at stake. You need to stop showing up unannounced ", Matthew had stated and that made her smile. She had on a black long leather coat. She took it off and Matthew saw that she was wearing only her red lacy bras and panties. "Are you sure, you don't want me here?", She purred and Matthew stood up and came out of the bathtub. His dick was already erect and ready. In a few strides, Matthew was already in front of her. He scooped her up and took her to his bed. Meanwhile, Anastasia was driving back from Matthew's house. Harry's last words to Anastasia haunted her as she navigated the car through the traffic. "Ana", he had softly called her, " I loved you dearly, and I love you still. Come back to me and stop this charade with my uncle..."He had said. After getting home and taking a bath, Anastasia had dinner. One of the housekeepers informed Anastasia that Harry wanted to see her. She knew the talk with Harry would be difficult, and she dreaded it. Anastasia got to Harry's study and found him reading. When he looked up and saw Anastasia standing at the door, he gestured to an empty chair opposite him. The table between them was clean and tidy, with just a few stationeries on it "Anastasia," Harry said, and Anastasia's heart dropped, "when I offered money to you to pose as my wife, it wasn't without reason. I know for a fact that you were aware that Matthew was my nephew before you agreed to marry me. You completely hid your engagement to my nephew from me". Anastasia wanted to explain but somehow she knew it would only make Harry more angry. In the short time, they had known each other, she had never seen him this angry. "It's time you have an idea of what is at stake", Harry said as he tried to control his anger. "I am worth much more than my father. I am a billionaire and I run a chain of companies. But inheriting my father's company is not for the monetary gain. My mother would literally disown me if the company ended up in Matthew's hands ", Harry said. Anastasia was not a billionaire and neither did she claim to understand their cultures but she strongly felt disowning one's son over an inheritance was rather extreme. "I know it sounds extreme but I am going to tell you everything that transpired between My mother, Matthew's grandmother and my father", Harry said. "But first I need you to tell me what were you doing at Matthew's home?", Harry asked. Anastasia knew it was time to speak up. "I am sorry", was all Anastasia could say. She was really sorry and disappointed in herself, even more so for what she was about to tell himAnastasia 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
Anastasia paced the length of her living room, her fingers gripping her phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, and her heart pounded in her chest as the moment Harry had walked out replayed in her head. She had rushed up to him the second she heard his bedroom door open, desperate to speak to him, to explain, to beg—but he had walked past her as if she didn’t exist. No glance, no words, not even the flicker of an emotion in his eyes. She had watched from the window as he got into his car and drove away, leaving her standing there, crushed, shattered, and abandoned. Tears blurred her vision as she dialled Natasha's number. The call barely rang twice before Natasha picked up. “Anastasia?” Natasha’s voice came through the speaker, filled with concern. Anastasia couldn’t even respond—only a choked sob escaped her lips. “Stasia, talk to me. What’s wrong?” More sobs. “Anastasia! What is going on?” Natasha’s voice was sha
Anastasia lay still, her body wrapped in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioner. Her chest rose and fell with each deep breath, but she didn’t say a word. Harry shifted uncomfortably, his arm draped loosely over her waist as he studied her face. She stared at him, her lips slightly parted as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. “Anastasia,” he began, his voice trembling, “I need you to know… I love you.” Her expression didn’t change, and her gaze was still fixed on him. Harry’s heart ached at her lack of response. He shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. “I know i have already professed my love for you,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I promised to wait. But my heart yearns for you, " he paused, swallowing hard—"I thought tonight meant something. But if it doesn’t, I understand.” Anastasia turned her head away