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. T
(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 as
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
(ARIELLE'S POV) I had just wrapped up an interview at a media house, this time it was the prominent “Morning Echoes,” one of the city's top Media houses. The past few months since the publication of my debut memoir, I had become a regular guest at media houses, gracing shows, and magazine covers, a