LOGINMy heart raced because of Ethan, and that alone frightened me.
I smiled, a small curve of my lips that felt new on my face, and shrugged off the feeling like it didn’t matter. Like it was nothing. Like my body hadn’t betrayed me by reacting to a man who wasn’t my husband. Husband? who wasn't even close to me. I can’t welcome any form of love right now. Lucien made sure of that. He didn’t just break my heart, he rewired it. He taught me caution the hard way, taught me how dangerous it was to trust too quickly, to give too much, to love without asking for proof. And if I was being honest, like truly honest, I couldn't place all the blame on him. I should blame myself too. Why would I marry a man I had only known for three months? What was I thinking? Was I charmed? Blinded? Desperate to belong somewhere, anywhere? Or was I simply stupid enough to believe that intense attention equaled love? Three months. I let that number sit heavy in my chest. I barely knew Lucien. Not really. Not the man behind the perfect smiles, the expensive suits, the calculated gentleness that slowly wrapped around my throat without me noticing. I was overwhelmed, intoxicated by the way he made me feel seen or at least the illusion of it. I got attached too fast, too deeply, and I mistook possession for protection. I drowned myself in a marriage with a man I barely knew, and by the time I realized I was sinking, the water was already above my head. I'm someone that gets really attached so easily, maybe because I was an orphan. Because I badly wanted to get out of the orphanage and start my new life afresh. Living in an orphanage made my life so miserable, though I was able to educate myself thanks to the sponsors. When I met Lucien then, I was in a tight corner, struggling to get a job and leave the orphanage to live alone. So when he treated me differently, not badly, I felt he was a good person, I didn't feel the need to get to know him very well. I saw red flags as green flags. Damn, I tolerated his stupid flaws. The fact that he didn't try to beg or chase me makes me lose feelings for him the more and he had that audacity to tell me. “We both know you can't live without me...” I'll make him eat the statement, and live my life. A tired sigh escaped my lips. All of that is bygone now. What’s done is done. I can’t rewind my life, can’t untangle the choices I already made. I can only decide what comes next. I should think about the life ahead of me. Start from somewhere. Move forward completely. Erase Lucien, not just from my surroundings, but from my mind, my habits, my reflexes. Learn to choose myself for once. That thought alone felt revolutionary. My heart had slowed to a steady rhythm by the time I walked into the bathroom. The lights flickered on, reflecting a woman I was still getting used to seeing. Same face, same body, but something inside had shifted, hardened and was awakened. I took a quick shower, letting the warm water wash over me, not to cleanse but to quiet my thoughts. Within minutes, I was done. I slipped into my nightie, simple and soft, nothing like the silk gowns Lucien preferred seeing me in. This was mine. When I settled onto the bed with my laptop balanced on my thighs, my phone rang. Devi was calling again. I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath before answering. I wasn’t avoiding her, I just didn’t know how to talk about everything without breaking apart. “Hey, Devi,” I said. “Are you okay?” she asked immediately. “I hope you’re not crying.” Her voice was gentle, cautious, like she was afraid one wrong word would shatter me. I blinked slowly. “I’m not crying. Why would you think that?” I sighed softly. “Because of what?” “I get it,” she said quickly. “But you don’t talk first anytime I call. You don’t even pick up my calls this fast.” I said nothing and she continued. “ Aria, listen, if you want to cry, then cry. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you stronger.” I swallowed, my throat tightening. “I’ve cried enough,” I admitted. “So no, I’m not crying. Honestly I'm sad...I feel lonely. I feel empty. And tired.” My voice cracked despite my effort to keep it steady. “I wish you were here.” There was a pause on the line. “I miss you too,” Devi said softly. “But I just have to finish my course. You know how much I spent on this project, I spent millions, Aria.” “I know,” I said immediately. And I meant it. She would come back if I asked her to. She always would. But I couldn’t be selfish enough to ask her to abandon her dreams because my marriage collapsed. “Aria,” Devi continued, “you need someone before I come back to the country. And my brother is that person.” I stiffened. “Devi...” “Just listen,” she interrupted gently. “I’m not saying fall in love. I’m saying don’t isolate yourself. Don’t pressure yourself. Have fun, okay?” “It’s not that easy,” I murmured. “I know. But you don’t have to make it harder than it already is.” “Thank you for being there when I needed someone.” I muttered. After we hung up, I stared at my phone for a long time, her words echoing in my head. 'You need someone.' I set the phone aside and opened my laptop, pretending to focus on work, but my mind kept drifting. To Lucien. To Ethan. To the version of myself that existed before everything fell apart. A notification popped up on my screen. An unknown Number. My heart skipped, fear and curiosity tangled together. I hesitated before opening the message. Lucien. Of course it was him, it was his number. I didn’t read the message immediately. I closed the laptop instead, pressing my palms against my eyes. He still had access to me. After a long moment, I opened the message. "We need to talk." That was all. No apology. No explanation. Just a demand disguised as a sentence. I typed a response, deleted it, typed again, deleted again. Finally, I locked my phone and placed it face down on the bed. No, he doesn't deserve a reply so I blocked him instantly. I evicted him from my life anyways, I can't let him mess up my mind. I deserve peace and I choose peace over his stupidity. Sleep didn’t come easily that night. When it finally did, it was shallow and restless, filled with fragments of memories I wished I could erase. The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, pulling me back into reality. I lay still for a while, listening to my own breathing. Today, I decided I would start over. I got out of bed, dressed in something comfortable yet confident. When I stepped out of the room, my phone buzzed, a message from Ethan. "Good morning, Aria. Hope you slept well? Will you have breakfast with me?" I stared at the screen. For the first time in a long while, someone wasn’t demanding a piece of me. I typed back. "Yes, I will..." And as I slipped my phone into my bag, I realized something quietly powerful. Choosing myself didn’t mean shutting the world out. It meant choosing who gets to walk in. And I'm welcoming Ethan.*Ethan’s POV* I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do, but should I just stand here like a decent man and let another man who's her past, tear into her in front of everyone? Or defend the woman whose trembling fingers are laced through mine like I’m the only thing keeping her upright? Because all I know...all I know for sure is that I cannot stand here and watch someone shout at my woman. Not even her ex-husband who hurt her the most.Aria’s hand is cold in mine, too cold for a room this warm, this crowded, this alive with music and champagne and laughter that suddenly feels cruel. Her nails dig into my skin—not hard enough to hurt, but desperate enough to tell me she’s barely holding herself together. And then his voice cuts through the air. “Aria!” Lucien yelled, he didn’t just call her name. He throws it on her face like a command, like he still owns the right to summon her. Every head turned to see. I felt her flinch before I could even see it. She made a tiny, invol
(Aria’s POV) “We shouldn’t...we shouldn’t do anything here.” My voice came out shaky, breathless, almost betrayed by the way my body leaned toward his instead of pulling away. “It’s our first intimacy, Ethan. It shouldn’t be in a restroom.” I placed my hand on his chest, intending to create distance, but the moment my palm met the solid heat of him, he stilled. His gaze locked onto mine, his gaze dark and unreadable, like he was fighting something inside himself too. “Not here, Ethan,” I repeated, softer this time, like a plea. ”You don't know it's sinful to look this sexy right?" he said on my lips and I smiled. His jaw tightened. He rubbed his lips together slowly, the gesture alone enough to make my knees weak. Then, without a word, he took my hand and guided it downward. I bit my lips torturously as my fingers brushed against the hard line beneath his zipper, and I gulped. He was so hard that it startled me. Heat rushed straight to my belly, pooling between my thig
The kiss started slowly, each movement unhurried. His mouth was warm against mine, his hands cupping my cheeks, his thumbs brushing softly against my skin, stabilizing himself or maybe stabilizing me. My hands tightened into the fabric of his jacket, clinging to him, needing to touch him, desperate for more, and he responded by pressing closer, deepening the kiss like he’d been waiting all night for this exact moment, our lips and tongues glided together, a dance that was both gentle and consuming. I felt my body melt into his, the friction of his chest against mine, the heat of him radiating through me, the way he held me so securely it was almost impossible to think of leaving. He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping perfectly around his waist, my heels fell and he placed me gently on the edge of the sink. His hands were calm and controlled, as if he knew the exact moment he could push and the exact moment he had to pull back. His forehead rested against mine for a heartb
After the dance ended, the room felt too loud, too bright, and my chest felt heavy in a way I couldn’t ignore. Maybe it was the stares I’d caught on the way in, maybe it was the weight of everyone watching us, maybe it was Ethan or maybe it was every single piece of that mix, pressing down on me until I felt fragile, exposed, like I could shatter in an instant. And the way some women were admiring Ethan annoys me but I don't even want to admit that I'm jealous.Well, I needed air. I needed to breathe, to escape for a moment from the crowd, from the lights, from the quiet, pressing intensity of him. My hand found his, the warmth of it relieving me. “Ethan,” I whispered, almost too quietly to hear over the lingering music, “please… let’s go to the restroom.” He’d been in the middle of talking to someone, a man with an important-looking watch and a confident laugh, but the second he heard my voice, it was as though the rest of the world disappeared. His attention shifted, fully, enti
Aria’s POV He drove straight to the venue. The ride there was quiet, not awkward, just heavy with anticipation. London glowed outside the car window—golden streetlights reflecting on wet roads, skyscrapers standing tall,the city always felt alive, but tonight it felt like it was holding its breath. The venue came into view almost too suddenly. He reached The Royal Halcyon Pavilion, where the party was held. A grand architectural masterpiece sitting proudly along the Thames—its glass façade glowing softly, chandeliers visible from the outside like suspended constellations. Black luxury cars lined the driveway, security positioned neatly at every corner. This wasn’t just a party. It was a gathering of power, influence, money, and reputation. And the moment Ethan’s car rolled through the iron gates, it became clear that they had been waiting for him because camera flashes erupted instantly, and relentlessly, like lightning strikes. Reporters surged forward behind barricades, their
Aria’s POV It’s a new year, another page, another breath, another chance to begin with something new… or maybe someone new. I stood in front of the mirror, the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner, watching my reflection stare back at me like a stranger I was still learning how to recognize. The gown clung to my body perfectly, it was soft, elegant, and expensive. Ethan picked it for me. He always does. He chooses what I wear, how I style my hair, even the perfume I use sometimes. And somehow...I don’t mind. After everything I’ve been through, letting someone else decide feels easier than trusting my own judgment again. He’s my man now. That’s what this is, that’s part of what I said yes to. I smoothed the fabric over my hips, lifted my chin, and forced a small smile at the woman in the mirror. She looked calm, like someone put together and almost healed. I closed my eyes. “Father Lord,” I whispered softly, my hands clasped together, resting against my







