LOGINMargot’s Point of ViewDuring her meetups with the other women in town, Margot was always the center of admiration. They praised her as if she were some saint in silk a woman with a heart large enough to raise a child who wasn’t even her own.“Imagine,” one of them would say with envy, “you didn’t even let your own daughter marry that wealthy man. You let your stepdaughter have him instead! Such generosity, Margot. Truly, you have a golden heart.”Margot would smile sweetly, concealing the bitterness that simmered beneath her flawless poise. Her painted lips curved, but her eyes never joined the smile. She knew the truth they didn’t she hadn’t done it out of love or selflessness. She had done it out of disappointment. Her own daughter, Selene, had failed her reckless, stubborn, and foolishly in love with someone beneath their standards. Zara had simply been the next best option, the pawn in a game Margot intended to win.As the women continued to praise her, one leaned in conspirato
Adrian sat across from Zara, who was absently pressing her fork into the food but never eating. Her palms were clammy, her heart restless. She could feel his eyes on her sharp, assessing, unblinking. The silence between them was suffocating.Earlier that day, she had caught a glimpse of him at the café and panic had driven her straight back home to cook before he returned. Now, as he sat at the dining table, his sleeves still rolled from work, he hadn’t even bothered to freshen up.Their quiet dinners had become a routine of mutual avoidance, but tonight, his silence was heavy, almost deliberate.“Did you poison this?” he asked suddenly, his tone cutting through the air.Zara’s hand froze mid-air. “What?”“Why aren’t you eating?” His eyes were cold, narrowed, full of suspicion.“I I’m just tired,” she stammered, forcing a shaky smile. But her trembling voice and downcast eyes gave her away.He leaned back slowly, a mocking smirk forming. “Can’t trust you. Eat it first.”Her fingers
Zara froze the moment she stepped into her office that morning.Right there on her chair was a bouquet of fresh lilies and roses, glowing softly under the morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her breath hitched. For a moment, she thought she had walked into the wrong office. But no, the nameplate on the desk still read Zara Alaric .She glanced around the room, expecting someone to pop out and shout “surprise!” But there was no one. Only the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint tapping of keyboards from the next office. Slowly, she reached for the flowers. A small white card was tucked neatly between the petals.She pulled it out with trembling fingers and read:“Quick recovery, Zara. —Blake.”Her heart stopped for a beat. Blake?Zara read the message again twice, then a third time as if the words would somehow rearrange themselves into a different meaning. She had never received flowers in her entire life not from family, not from friends, not even from Adrian. An
Zara was bored in her room. She didn’t want to go out or meet Adrian anywhere, so she kept herself busy with work. Even Isabella was preoccupied with school, so Zara decided to stay occupied. No, she told herself, I’m not going to stay locked in here. She grabbed a deep breath. Maybe some fresh air will help…As she made her way downstairs, she wondered aloud, “I wonder what he’ll like for dinner.” She put on music, humming along to Hills Have Eyes. She was so lost in her own little world that she didn’t notice Adrian had returned home.“So, you’re celebrating?” His voice cut through her reverie like a blade.Startled, Zara snapped back to reality, eyes landing on the plaster on his arm. Before she could even think, Adrian broke the silence. “Happy now? Your little plan of leaving flour all over the floor… It worked. I slipped and broke my arm while carrying a plate to the sink. Sorry to disappoint you if you were aiming for my head just my arm.” His face was serious, confrontational,
Zara had vowed never to argue or exchange words with Adrian again. But there he was testing her patience once more, pushing every fragile boundary she had left.She reluctantly lifted her gaze to him and sighed, her voice barely steady. Gathering what little courage she had left in her tired body, she said calmly, “What is it, Mr. Voss?”There was no anger in her tone only exhaustion. Pure, heavy exhaustion.She was tired.Tired of the endless cold wars.Tired of the man who was supposed to be her husband but seemed determined to turn her life into a battlefield.Adrian studied her carefully, his expression unreadable. Her calmness unnerved him it wasn’t what he expected. He was prepared for defiance, for a spark of anger he could use to justify his own cruelty. But this quiet, weary woman before him made him feel… powerless.Still, he pushed on.“I won’t put them into writing,” he began coldly, “so read my lips carefully.”Zara stood still, her face blank. Whether it was the sickn
Zara at the OfficeThe office was quiet, save for the steady scratching of pens and the soft hum of computers. Zara sat at her desk, her eyes fixed on the files before her. She flipped through each page carefully, her pen moving sluggishly as she noted details. But her face betrayed her. Pale. Drawn. Sickly. Every now and then she pressed her lips together as though to steady herself, but it was obvious to anyone watching that she wasn’t fine.Ann had been sneaking glances at her for hours. Finally, she broke the silence.“Are you okay, Zara?”Zara startled slightly, then forced a faint smile. “Mmh, I’m definitely fine.”It was a lie, and she knew Ann could see through it. Her voice lacked conviction, her posture slumped with fatigue. But Ann didn’t push further. She only watched, her eyes narrowing slightly, unreadable.Zara buried herself back in her work, pretending not to notice the weight of Ann’s gaze. Her mind was already heavy, swirling with thoughts she couldn’t silence.Late
The morning sun painted the roads gold as Zara steered the black Benz smoothly toward the office. The car purred beneath her hands, and every turn of the wheel filled her with a satisfaction she hadn’t felt in years. She wasn’t just driving she was conquering the road, cutting through traffic like
Zara slammed the door of her room shut and leaned against it, her chest rising and falling with a mix of anger and exhaustion.“Oh, good Lord,” she muttered, throwing her bag on the floor. “Is there any day in this house when someone won’t be angry?”Her voice cracked into a half-scream, half-laugh
Zara’s POVZara woke up early, her body buzzing with a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, highlighting the neat folds of her new work outfit. Today was her first day at Blake’s Company, and though she had fought tooth and nail for this opportunity, a sm
Zara’s POVZara was still buzzing with victory, her body practically vibrating as she bounced around the kitchen like a child. She had done it against all odds, she had won this round against Adrian. The thought alone made her laugh under her breath, a soft mixture of disbelief and triumph.That’s







