Alina discovers the heartbreaking news that her sister Camille is engaged to her ex-husband Barry upon her return to London after two years overseas. A sex tape of the two is sent in an anonymous message further betraying the trust. In an effort to recover her life and fortune Alina suggests a contract marriage to Dante Navarro, a vicious billionaire who has a personal grudge against Barry. A sincere connection develops between them as they work through their fake marriage, public personas and secrets. They reveal Barry and Camilles deceit as they work together to destroy their schemes. Amidst the turmoil, Alina and Dante face their past traumas which results in an unexpected romantic relationship. In the end Alina regains her inheritance and her authority while discovering true love can find you anywhere at unexpected places.
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Alina pov
After two years, I dragged my suitcase through the crowded airport and finally made it to the city.
The scent of home and gasoline filled the air. Excited and exhausted I smiled as I took in everything around me. Not much had changed though and I just couldn't wait to see him.
“I’m back.” I muttered, still looking around.
I had spent two years studying fashion in Italy far from friends and family and everything that I know.
My mind flashed to my husband of three years. I didn't want to call him now and tell him that I was back.
We had spoken over the phone but I didn't bring it up.
It was supposed to be a surprise. I pictured his startled expression, how his arms would encircle me in a firm embrace and he would kiss me and tell me how much he misses me and how we would drift off to sleep after making love as if nothing had happened.
I immediately took a taxi to the Luxe Haven Hotel which we frequently stayed at when we needed a break from family strife.
I was not ready to return home just yet. My plans were to rest, go to the spa, do a little shopping and make plans to surprise him and Camille, my step sister too.
She had cried at the airport two years ago when I left for Italy and had never stopped calling.
Perhaps I should tell her first that I was back. I had bought her an expensive designer bag too.
The hotel remained the same, still refined, calm and hospitable. I made my way to the reception area.
“Good evening, ma'am.”
The youthful receptionist greeted guests to Luxe Haven with a kind smile. “Are you booking a reservation?”
“Yes, as Alina Thompson.”
She paused typing on her computer and gave it a start.
“Alina Thompson?”
I nodded, feeling uneasy all of a sudden, the smile on my lips gone.
“Yes, is there a problem please?”
Her eyes grew wide and she forced a smile in a hurry.
“Oh no. I'm sorry. It's just…. You look familiar, you are the ex wife of Barry Romano, —oh—I mean.” She said and looked away. “I'm really sorry.”
She went back to her computer.
I went cold.
Ex-wife?
I blinked. “What did you just say?”
She appeared to have swallowed her words. “I apologize.”
“I heard what you said.”
“I was just curious. A reservation for the Thompson- Ross wedding was just handled by the hotel so I thought—I mean your husband is getting married right? Please don't be upset. I didn’t realize it was private.”
Thompson. Ross
Camille & Barry.
My chest tightened.
“Thank you.” I said, my voice stiff and my neck too tight to nod back at her.
I grabbed the room key and left as quickly as I could without losing my mind.
The elevator made me stand motionless. My ears started to ring. The key card was tightly held by my fingers. The elevator seemed to be punishing me by moving slowly.
I got to my room and I sat on the edge of the bed in the room and looked at the floor. Camille, my younger sister.
No. This must have been a mistake. A cruel mistake, I almost laughed . It might be another Thompson, perhaps she misheard.
I did my best not to believe that. I really did but the truth however felt like a biting reality. And it always manages to bite now as I try to ignore it.
My phone buzzed a couple of hours later as I was unpacking.
Unknown Number: Mrs. Thompson, welcome home. Or should I say the sister of Miss Camille?
I frowned. What the hell?. Then a second message arrived.
Unknown Number: Watch and cry my love. It had a video file attached. I was hesitant to click.
I hesitated with my thumb flicking over it but curiosity can be harmful. I hit play. The clip began. I was initially perplexed by what I was seeing.
Next I noticed the bed, the bed we use back home, and the decor, that was our room too.
I chose the sheets, the space I furnished. He made love to me on that bed .I saw Barry's hand and Camille's voice and I froze.
He was now groaning her name and caressing her as he had touched me. I felt uneasy. I felt my throat tighten. In the video Camille laughed and muttered after she moaned.
“ What if she finds out?”
“She will not,” Barry said. “She is playing designer in Italy and is too busy. Let her remain there.”
My eyes were blurry from tears. I let the phone drop and it skidded along the floor.
Clinging to my chest, I leaned over and tried to breathe. They did this without telling me. They were ruining my life while I was pursuing my dreams.
How could they?
The betrayal was hot and painful.
I laughed through my tears.
Bitter broken laughter not the joyful kind. such that it leaves your mouth feeling sour.
Camille.
My younger sister. I had done everything for her, protected her and made sure she had nothing to lack after our parents' death. I had sacrificed my time and money and let her go to college before me and while I was pursuing my dreams she was sleeping with my husband.
And Barry, he was just a 9-5 struggling worker who I gave everything to.
I gave the man my body, my years , my money and my heart. Why would they do this to me?
How long has this been going on?
I ran my fingers over the message box. I wanted to curse him, yell at him and threaten him. But I didn't.
“I can't wait to become Mrs. Thompson,” Camille said, kissing his chest in the final frame of the video and I stared at it.
She sounded as though she already thought she was. I put my hand down in my lap. I sat silently and numbly stared at the wall.
Minutes went by, a few hours perhaps. Then something changed inside of me. After getting up I went to the mirror and gazed at my image. I had flush and red eyes, messy hair and I looked weak.
No. I wasn't weak. I wasn't damaged. I had been wounded. Yes and betrayed too but this was not the conclusion of my story.
If they believed they could humiliate me, erase me or do something bad to me then they were unsure of who they were playing with at that point.
“Game on,” I muttered as I slowly wiped away my tears.
Chapter 9Camile – POVHis voice did something to me.Not just the way he growled it like a promise, but the way it carried something deeper—possessiveness, apology, longing. Maybe even love. Maybe.But I didn’t ask for love.I asked for loyalty.I let him lay me back on the bed, my breath catching as his weight hovered over me, his lips ghosting across my collarbone like he was trying to memorize me. My thighs tightened around him instinctively, my hands still gripping his shoulders, skin hot and trembling beneath my fingertips.This wasn’t just sex.Not this time.Barry didn’t tear my clothes off like a man starved—he peeled them from me like they were something sacred. His hands, once harsh and commanding, now moved like he was trying to make amends with every glide of his palm. My breath hitched when his fingers brushed down the valley between my breasts, across my stomach, and lower… slower… like time didn’t matter. Like it was just us in this broken world.“Say it again,” I whis
Chapter 8Barry – POV“Should I say, you messed up? Or how am I going to place it, you really did mess up, Camile!”I shouted, my hand on the glass tightened, my eyes heavy with anger that had reddened my eyes.I was seated on the stool at the bar section in our house, my heart raced with anticipation as I glared at the liquor in my glass. The liquid shimmered under the pendant light like it held all the wrong choices I had made.“Camile, have you been listening?” I turned to her.She was sitting on the arm of the couch, her legs crossed lazily, mindlessly scrolling through her phone like we weren’t in the middle of a goddamn storm.I sighed heavily, dropping down from the stool sluggishly. The thought of how I met my ex-wife with another man wouldn’t leave my head. It played on a loop, over and over. Her laugh. Her eyes sparkling. The way she leaned into him like he was the gravity pulling her in.She even had the nerve to kiss him—in public. Around people. Like I never existed.Like
Chapter 7Alina povI didn’t say a word as we pulled up in front of the towering glass building. Dante’s so-called "surprise penthouse review" had my brain reeling, but hell would freeze over before I let him see that. My jaw nearly unhinged at the sheer size and sleekness of the place. The sky reflected off the high-rise like a mirror, and I had to blink twice to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.Of course it would be this grand. This is Dante we’re talking about.But no, I wouldn’t let the shock show on my face. I straightened my back, tilted my chin slightly upward, and tucked the awe somewhere behind my ribcage.We reached the penthouse entrance minutes later, and my eyes darted around, trying to take in every bit of the surrounding luxury. A smile teased the edge of my lips the moment I caught sight of the swimming pool—a shimmering grey pool, not the cliché blue. Strange. Unnerving. Elegant.But then something froze me.Just beneath the surface of the pool’s calm, grey sheen, I
Chapter 6Dante povThe silence between us was thick, and I could feel her eyes burning into the side of my face. I could see the way she wanted to speak—her mouth twitched, and her thoughts were like a parade of unwelcome questions. But I wasn’t in the mood for her probing today. I was still trying to shake off the unease that settled in my chest after seeing her earlier. Something in her expression, something in her silence had stirred a part of me I wasn’t ready to confront.I turned my eyes back to the window, pretending to be absorbed in the landscape blurring by. I wasn’t going to let her get to me. Not this time.Her voice finally broke the silence, light and casual, like she was asking for the weather forecast.“You knew I was going to ask.”I couldn’t help the small, sharp laugh that escaped me. “Alina, you’re simple to read.” I turned to face her, and my eyes locked with hers. She was playing that same game again, the one where she pretended to be uninterested, detached. But
Chapter 5: I woke up in Dante's penthouse with a sharp pain in my chest. I couldn't stop thinking about last night, including the fake smile on Camille's face, the flashing cameras and Barry's derisive eyes. I wasn't even sure which I hated more about him or myself or possibly both. The mattress was too supple. The air quality was too high. I was out of place here. The quiet drew me out of the guest room. The space was too large and too silent and it felt like I had been transported to Birmingham Palace in my dreams.If there was something I loved about last night, it was the shock on both Barry and Camille's face, they never believed I could move on quickly and Barry might have a cardiac arrest soonHe must be a joker if he thinks I would stick around begging him to take me back and I never knew he was this stupid that he hadn't even signed the divorce papers.Or maybe he wasn't stupid after all.Damn him.Fresh coffee and the expensive , sweet scent of leather and sandalwood fil
Chapter 4: Alina's pov That night I slept very little. I was having trouble processing the contract I had just signed and my thoughts were racing. One part of me wanted to laugh, another to scream and a tiny silent part to cry. But nothing would change if I cried. It was precisely at 6:00 a. m when my phone buzzed. Dante: The car is downstairs. Get ready.He said as if he already owned me, I gazed at the message and the audacious assurance in his words. I got dressed quickly wearing dark jeans, a white silk blouse and not much makeup. I had to appear gentle without being frail. Untouchable but beautiful. A woman who wouldn't recoil when she married a billionaire. It was a sleek, black spy-movie-type car. With a nod, a silent driver opened the door. Nothing to say, just a luxury. “Miss Alina,” he said courteously. I slid in after nodding back. Yes,now my name is Alina Thompson, the wife who was forgotten. This sister who was betrayed. But that is no longer the case. As we pul
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