LOGIN(ARIELLE'S POV) They say graduation is a milestone. Personally, I think they just want an excuse to make six-year-olds wear polyester caps and parents panic over gift baskets. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself while burning my fingers on the tiny iron-on badge that said “Class of the Yea
The words barely left my lips before the tears did—slipping down my cheeks faster than I could stop them. Jared stood quickly, his hand reaching for my face. “Why are you crying?” I laughed—choked and shaky. “It’s nothing. Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” My fingers trembled as I tried to wave it off
(ARIELLE’S POV) The celebration downstairs had barely ended when the crowd began to surge. Voices surrounded me—some calling my name with admiration, others offering business cards, invitations, flattery. Reporters waved microphones; investors hinted at million-dollar offers. Somewhere, someone
He approached her side quietly. "You look comfortable being the brightest star in the room, Miss Meyers," he murmured. She rolled her eyes, amused. "Don’t start. I already got three reporters asking if I’m the future Mrs. Smith. What’s funny is—I could’ve just said yes. I mean, technically, I am M
(AUTHOR'S POV) Another year had passed. Jared wasn’t the only one who forgot everything quickly. The whole world did the same thing. Just over a year ago, Jared Smith was still the unshakable CEO of the Smith Group—a name that once carried weight in every financial headline and luxury gala invita
(JARED'S POV) In the days that followed, I no longer recognized anyone or anything. There was just a feeling of emptiness and numbness that hung deeply inside of me. But there was a particular pretty woman who always visited. I wake up to find her in my room most mornings, and most nights she sits
And most importantly, the part I just couldn’t get out of my head—Jared meant Dwayne was the one who sent Maverick back to my house?! I glanced down at Maverick, who was staring up at all this drama with big, confused eyes. I wanted to say something comforting, but honestly? What could I say? ‘It
Rebecca chimed in, her tone sharp. “Maybe we should take a sample to a lab. You know, for ‘research purposes.’” Stephen tried to keep a straight face as he added, “Or a journalist. ‘Velvet Fork serves rare chicken—literally.’” The waiter glared at us, but before things could escalate, I stood, car
"And Good morning to you, too, Mr Smith," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "Good morning, Arielle. How're you?" "Save the pleasantries and let's leave already," I said, curtly. He seemed hurt, but nodded, and turned the car on, as he careened it out of the street into the highway. The rest
(SOFIA’S POV) I lay down on my back, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. The sound of the humidifier in the background was my only touch with reality. My mind flashed back to the past. The first man I ever married was wealthy — decades older, but wealthy. That’s what mattered to me at the time. He p







