LOGINCynthia Hart was used to living life on her own terms private, calm, and far from the spotlight that came with her family’s fortune. But one business deal changed everything. To save her father’s company from collapse, she was forced into an arranged marriage with none other than Xavier Sanchese, the most popular boy in her school, rich, confident, and annoyingly perfect. Xavier was the definition of privilege, heir to a multi-billion-dollar empire, loved by everyone, feared by some. To him, the marriage was just another transaction between powerful families. But when his quiet, stubborn “wife” turned out to be the one girl who didn’t worship him, his ego took a hit… and his heart began to stir. In public, they act like strangers keeping their secret marriage hidden from their classmates. But behind closed doors, sparks fly. Fights turn into late-night conversations, jealousy turns into tension, and soon neither of them can tell if what they feel is real or just part of their act. Cynthia wants her freedom. Xavier wants control. Yet somewhere between their pride and passion, they start to realise that love isn’t something you plan, it’s something that happens when you least expect it. But in a world where power, image, and secrets rule, falling in love with Mr. Popular might cost Cynthia everything she’s trying to protect including her heart. “Married to Mr. Popular” is a thrilling high school romance full of emotions, secrets, and slow-burning chemistry that proves sometimes, the heart disobeys even the richest plans.
View MoreThe sunlight slipped past my curtains before my alarm could scream. I groaned, turning on my side as the golden rays settled across my face, forcing my eyes open. Another day. Another reminder that life wasn’t as perfect as it looked from the outside.
The daughter of one of the wealthiest families in Crestwood should be happy, right? Pretty house. Fancy car. Everything money could buy. But no one talks about the quiet loneliness that lives behind designer walls.
I dragged myself up and stared into the mirror. My hair was a mess of brown waves, my eyes half-lidded and unwilling to face the day. “Just school,” I muttered. “You’ve survived worse.”
Downstairs, I could already hear Mom’s voice echoing — sharp, controlled, the kind of tone that could cut through glass. She was on another business call. Dad’s company had been struggling for months, but no one was supposed to know. Crestwood’s elite thrived on secrets, and mine was just starting to boil.
I slipped into my uniform, straightened the plaid skirt, and grabbed my bag. The smell of coffee drifted from the kitchen, but before I could reach it, the front door burst open.
“Cyn!”
Only one person called me that.
Louisa Reynolds my best friend since we were five breezed in like a hurricane, phone in one hand, lip gloss in the other. Her curls bounced as she plopped her bag onto the couch. “Girl, why do you look like you’ve been up all night?”
“Because I have,” I muttered. “My parents had another argument. Something about a meeting with the Sanchese family today.”
Louisa froze mid-gloss. “Wait. The Sanchese family? As in Xavier’s dad the billionaire? The one who basically owns half the city?”
I nodded, half-dreading where this conversation was going.
Louisa gasped dramatically. “Please tell me they’re not trying to...”
“Don’t even say it,” I warned, slipping my books into my bag.
But her grin was too mischievous to ignore. “Cynthia Hart, if you end up related to Xavier Sanchese, I swear—”
“Impossible.” I cut her off, forcing a laugh I didn’t feel. “Xavier doesn’t even know I exist.”
That wasn’t entirely true. He did know me just not in the good way. He was Crestwood Academy’s golden boy: smart, rich, confident, and maddeningly good-looking. The kind of guy teachers adored and girls planned their futures around.
And me? I was the quiet one who sat two rows behind him, pretending not to care.
We walked out to my car, the morning air crisp against my skin. The city sparkled in the distance, tall and untouchable just like Xavier Sanchese himself.
As I started the engine, Louisa was still rambling about her latest crush. I tried to listen, but my mind kept drifting back to Mom’s voice from earlier. “The meeting will change everything,” she’d said.
Everything.
By the time we got to school, the parking lot was already buzzing. Luxury cars lined the entrance, and groups of students laughed in clusters. My stomach twisted when I saw the black convertible parked near the gate.
Xavier’s car.
And as if summoned by thought, he stepped out — tall, composed, in that infuriatingly casual way only he could pull off. His dark hair caught the morning light, and his sharp eyes scanned the crowd before landing briefly too briefly on me.
“Earth to Cynthia,” Louisa whispered, nudging me. “You’re staring.”
“I am not.”
“You totally are.” She grinned. “And he totally saw you.”
Before I could reply, my phone buzzed. A message from Mom.
Come home early after school. We have something important to discuss. Dress nicely.
My fingers tightened around the phone. A strange chill ran through me.
Louisa peeked over my shoulder. “Ooo, what’s going on?”
I forced a shaky smile. “No idea. But I have a bad feeling.”
She laughed it off, but I couldn’t shake the unease crawling up my spine.
As the school bell rang and students poured inside, I took one last glance toward Xavier. He was laughing with his friends, carefree and radiant, like someone who would never know what it felt like to be trapped by decisions that weren’t his.
If only I’d known then that by nightfall, my life and Xavier Sanchese’s would no longer be separate stories.
They’d be one.
And neither of us would have a choice.
The last bell of the day rang through the marble halls of Hillcrest Academy, echoing like a sigh of relief. Cynthia gathered her books carefully, ignoring the excited chatter around her. Louisa was already leaning against her locker, scrolling through her phone.
“Did you hear?” Louisa said, not even looking up. “Xavier Sanchese just rejected Tasha. Again.”
Cynthia rolled her eyes as she shut her locker. “Why do you people keep score of who he rejects? It’s ridiculous.”
Louisa grinned. “Because he’s the school’s royalty, duh. Every girl wants a chance to melt that frozen heart. Except you, of course.”
“Obviously,” Cynthia replied, adjusting the strap of her designer backpack. “I prefer sanity.”
They laughed, walking out into the golden afternoon. Cynthia tried not to look toward the parking lot, but she still caught sight of him tall, dark-haired, leaning against his black sports car, surrounded by his friends. His tie was loose, his expression unreadable.
Xavier glanced her way. Just for a second. But it was enough. Cynthia looked away quickly, pretending to be fascinated by her shoes.
Xavier sat in his car, hands gripping the steering wheel, his mind racing. The streets around him were quiet, but inside, his thoughts were anything but. Every second Cynthia had been missing felt like an eternity. His chest tightened at the thought of her alone, scared, or worse. Then, amidst the chaos in his mind, he remembered the bracelet he had gifted her for her eighteenth birthday. She had never taken it off, not once. A flicker of hope ignited inside him. That bracelet could be their only chance to locate her.Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and dialed his trusted friend. “Meet me at the usual spot. Bring the boys and the tracking gear,” he instructed, his voice taut with urgency. “We don’t have time to waste, and I need this done quietly. Discreetly.” He didn’t elaborate, knowing his friend understood the gravity. Within minutes, confirmations came through. They would meet in thirty minutes, at a secure location far from prying eyes.The drive to the safe house wa
Louisa’s heart pounded in her chest as she pushed open the Sinclair’s front door. The moment she stepped inside, the palpable tension hit her like a wave. The usually warm and welcoming house now hummed with anxiety, the air thick with worry. Voices overlapped, each filled with concern, each searching for answers. Louisa barely paused, taking in the scene: Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair pacing in the living room, Amelia on the phone, Xavier leaning against the wall with his head in his hands.“Louisa!” Amelia’s voice broke through Louisa’s shock. She rushed over, grabbing her friend by the shoulders. “Thank God you’re here! I didn’t know if you could make it in time.”“I’m here now,” Louisa said firmly, her eyes scanning the room, taking in every detail. “Where’s Cynthia? When was she last seen?”Amelia shook her head, panic flaring in her eyes. “We don’t know. She never came home last night from the party. Xavier tried calling, no answer. The maids haven’t seen her. And now…” Her voice cracke
Louisa had been buried in her textbooks, highlighting passages and scribbling notes, trying to make sense of the endless assignments and deadlines piling up for her first semester in Canada. The morning sunlight filtered through her window, painting her room in soft gold, and for a moment, she felt at peace, lost in the rhythm of study and the distant hum of the city outside. Then her phone rang, shattering the fragile calm.Glancing at the screen, her heart skipped a beat. It was Amelia. Without hesitation, she answered. “Amelia? What’s going on?” Her voice carried the casual tone she often used with her friend, but a sense of unease already tightened in her chest.“Louisa… it’s Cynthia,” Amelia began, her voice urgent, almost panicked. “Something’s happened. She’s missing.”Louisa froze. The words seemed to echo in her mind, bouncing off every wall, every corner of her apartment. Missing? Cynthia? That couldn’t be right. Just yesterday, they had been laughing over a video call, talk
The moment Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair received the call, the world seemed to tilt beneath them. Their cozy home, usually a haven of calm and laughter, transformed instantly into a storm of panic. “What do you mean she’s missing?!” Mr. Sinclair’s voice cracked, a mixture of disbelief and rising fear. He slammed the phone down on the table, pacing the living room with a rigidity that betrayed his shock.Mrs. Sinclair’s hands trembled as she clutched the receiver, her knuckles white. “How… how could this happen? Cynthia… our Cynthia?” Her voice wavered, barely more than a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a mother’s terror. She sank onto the edge of the sofa, trying to steady her breath, but it was useless. Her mind raced through every scenario, every place her daughter could be, and the thought of her in danger made her stomach churn.“Call the police!” Mr. Sinclair barked suddenly, reaching for his phone. He fumbled with the device, dialing frantically as his eyes darted to the door, ha












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