Five years locked away. Her only child taken away. One cold, disabled billionaire husband. Liana Dakota will do anything to get her daughter back, even marry Logan Grey, a ruthless, reclusive CEO in a wheelchair. The deal is simple: be his fake wife, save her child. But nothing is ever simple. Not when her past still haunts her. Not when the man she once loved disappeared without a word. And definitely not when her heart starts to betray her… again.
View MoreLIANA DAKOTA
1,827 days. That’s how long I’ve been trapped in this basement. 1,827 days since my own father took everything from me. My child, my freedom, my sanity.
He took my baby girl before I could even see her face. I've tried to escape to catch a glimpse of her, but he's kept me chained to the bed. I attempted to pick the lock with hairpins and forks, but it was no use. I even tried to force my way out, but ended up with scars. If it wasn't for my daughter, and the thought of her being raised by that monster, I'd probably be dead by now. The only thing that keeps me going is the memory of her cries after I conceived her. Whenever I feel like giving up, I think of those cries. I wish I had held her close when I had the chance.
The door creaked open, and I sat up, alert. I expected Samantha, the housekeeper, but the figure at the door was bigger. The dim light hid their face, but I knew exactly who it was. My fingers instinctively tightened around the toothbrush I'd sharpened, its plastic edge now a jagged point, and I held it tightly in my hand.
"You look like you've finally learned the lesson." My father, Raymond, said.
I didn't acknowledge what he said and just looked away.
I used to cower in fear whenever he was around, but that was three years ago. Now, fear's been replaced with a burning hatred. I hate him so much it consumed me, and I could easily imagine him as my first kill.
He walked in slowly. I didn't move. Not yet. I stared at the crack in the cement wall, counting my heartbeats.
“One day you’ll thank me for what I’ve done,” he said, voice dry like dust.
“You killed my life,” Mentally and emotionally, but I won't let him kill me physically. “There’s nothing to thank you for.”
He stopped in front of me. I could smell the stench of old whiskey on him.
“You’re just like your mother,” he muttered. “Weak and stupid. That’s why she’s dead."
That was when I snapped.
I launched forward, jamming the toothbrush into his thigh.
"Where is my daughter?" I bit out, still holding onto the brush.
"You bitch!" He hit him across my face so fast I didn’t even see it coming. My head snapped to the side, and I landed hard on the bed. The pain stung, but I didn't cry.
He grabbed my hair and pulled me up by it, making me face him.
“You try something like that again,” he said through his teeth, “and I’ll get rid of you. Just like that. And I’ll do the same to your daughter.”
My whole body went cold. My hands started shaking.
“Don’t you dare lay a finger on her!” I yelled.
“Then behave.”
He released me and reached down, pulling the toothbrush out of his leg. Blood dripped from it.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, my voice low.
“What I want is simple, you must marry Logan Grey,” he said. Business purposes. Just do what you're told. I’ll handle the rest.”
I blinked. No. That sounded worse than being locked in here. He tossed something at me. A phone.
I looked at the screen. A girl. Blonde curls. Eyes big and whiskey-colored. They were his eyes.
Her smile was wide and full of tiny teeth, one missing right in the front. She was beautiful. More than I ever imagined. Then I saw it. On her right arm, just under the sleeve of her dress, was a small birthmark. A star. Faint but clear. Just like her father’s. Evidence that she was mine.
My eyes filled with tears.
"My baby…" I whispered to the screen, pressing the phone to my chest.
“If you don't marry Logan Grey,” Raymond said, "she'll disappear."
I dropped to my knees, tears streaming down my face. “Please… don’t hurt her.”
“Then say yes.”
“I’ll do it,” I whispered.
"Good choice." He forcefully took the phone from me. "We will be seeing his family in two days."
He headed for the door to leave but stopped when he got closer.
"One advice, Liana, emotions don't win wars." He said and left.
I knew he wouldn’t just hand my daughter over after I do what he wants. I've known him too long to believe that. He just wanted to use me. He had probably already decided what to do with us in the end.
I will do what he wants for now so I can leave this basement.
I wasn’t doing it for him.
I was doing it for her.
For that little girl with the star-shaped proof on her arm that she belonged to me.
No matter what it takes, I will get her back. And once I do, we will disappear to where no one knows us.
But for now...I will marry Logan Grey. Whoever that is.
KEITHI didn’t want to let her go. I didn’t want to move or do anything that would drift us apart again, but she looked me in the eyes and said she needed time alone. That I should leave when the rain stopped. So I let her go, even though every part of me was screaming not to. When I heard her door slam shut, I followed the sound and stood right in front of it. Then I heard soft sobs, muffled but clear enough to break something in me. I dropped to my knees, head bowed, fists clenched tight. And I stayed there, cursing myself.Why did it take so long for my memories to come back? Why now, when everything was already broken? She went through hell without me. And I wasn’t just not there, I forgot her. I forgot the girl who saved me when I couldn’t save myself. I forgot the one person who pulled me out of my own darkness, and in return, I left her in hers. Alone. She was pregnant, and I didn’t even know. Her losing our child was entirely my fault. If I hadn’t gotten in that accident, if
It started raining.I’d already freshened up, my hair down, and slipped into one of my oversized t-shirts. But even still, I couldn’t stop thinking. I kept replaying everything that happened at the restaurant, trying to make sense of it—why he looked like that, why he held my hand like he was in pain, and why he pleaded for me to make it stop. What was “it”?My body jerked when my phone buzzed on the sofa. The staff had already left. It was just me in the house now, and the rain outside was getting heavier. I reached for my phone, the screen lighting up with a single message—from anonymous. “Large size T-shirts? A black lingerie would look better on you. Just checking to know if you’re still going according to the plan.”What?I swallowed the lump in my throat. Anonymous was a man. Only a shitty man would comment on how a woman should dress. Wait. Large-sized t-shirts? My chest tightened. He’s watching me. He’s always been watching. Suddenly, the doorbell rang and my body jumped agai
I’d been isolated for years. Staying in that house alone brought back too many flashbacks—flashbacks from the basement. I didn’t want the past haunting me anymore. I had to stay positive for Hannah.I twisted the knob and opened the door that led to the greenhouse. The fresh scent of leaves and flowers wrapped around me the moment I stepped in. I remembered being obsessed with flowers when I was nine. Mom had her little garden, and after school, I’d always find her there—tending to her flowers and talking to them like they could hear her. She said it helped them bloom better.Back then, I thought flowers were magic. I was addicted to their scent. But growing up now… flowers don’t smell like they look. Not even close. They smelled weird. Growing up is realizing flowers aren’t loved for how they smell—but for how they look.I was still staring at the lilies when I heard the clicking of heels on the smooth pavement. I froze. Someone was here.I turned to see who it was. Blanca, in a cre
"Mom, I want ice cream. They don't have that here," a big brown-eyed boy whined to his mom, who wouldn't let go of his hand. "Can't you just give me a pass for today?" I stood a few feet away from them, watching. She didn't look like motherhood was weighing her down—she looked the opposite, her hair was neatly styled in a side bob, no spill on her dress either. I'd seen mothers on the internet complaining about how tough it is, and to add, they all have something in common—messy bun that's barely holding on with a stretched-out scrunchie, dark under-eye circles from poor sleep and stress, coffee and food stains on their clothes. Maybe they were exaggerating, or maybe it was true. I wouldn’t know until I experienced it.I wondered what kind of child Hannah was. The whining-for-everything type? The one in love with animals? The quiet one? The messy one? Would she cry at bedtime and beg for one more story? Would she scream for no reason and then laugh like nothing happened? I smiled
The past week had been… different. Logan wanted me to take over the Rose Foundation. I didn’t want to. Not at all. But then Anonymous texted me—the same person who had my daughter. I still didn’t know if it was a man or a woman, so I just called the person anonymous. I was told to do it so I did. And now, here I was on the Greys’ private island. Helen said this was the perfect place to start. That I’d be meeting with a few key people—people who would help me learn how the foundation worked and what it actually did. Since I arrived, I hadn’t done much. Mostly just wandered around the resort, taking in the ocean breeze, eating, and sleeping. Helen was supposed to stay, but she left, saying she had to meet with someone and would be back in two days. So I was alone. And honestly? I liked it. No Logan. No Raymond. No Keith. Just silence and peace. I could finally think and breathe. I stare at the jar I had placed on the bed earlier—the jar Helen had given me. I wrote a few things
I held my phone tightly so Logan wouldn't suspect anything. The car stopped before the Greys' estate and the driver stepped out immediately. I reached for the door handle, ready to step out.“You should take over the Rose Foundation.” I heard Logan say. I paused. “What?”“You’re my wife now,” he said, like the word itself disgusted him. “It’s time you started doing something useful. And frankly? You don’t exactly have anything else going for you.”My hand curled around the door handle.He kept going. “The Greys have a standard. You should try meeting it.”That was it.I turned to him, slowly. “So I’m not just a fake wife—I’m a disappointment too?”His eyes left his phone and met mine. “Don’t twist it. I’m helping you.”“Helping me?” I laughed. “You left me alone on our wedding night like I was a mistake you couldn’t stand to look at. And now you’re doing me a favor?”I didn’t need him to stay. God, I didn’t even want him there. But even if it was just for show—just pretense—it was s
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