Se connecterHermione sat at the small table in the middle of the garden, the evening air cool against her skin. Rhys’s mansion was something out of a fairytale book. She’d settled there hours ago, letting the quiet wrap around her.
Since morning, her phone hadn’t stopped buzzing with messages from people demanding to know what had happened to her wedding with Cole. She’d given them the same answer every time. Called off. The news outlets wasted no time. Headlines spread like wildfire, twisted for maximum drama. [Run away bride? Windsor Heiress cancels wedding over the return of fiancée high school sweetheart.] [From Bride to Bystander: Heiress Abandons Wedding Amid First Love Controversy.] [Dumped Before ‘I Do’: Heiress Flees Wedding as Fiancé Reconnects With Childhood Crush.] Hermione had to give it to them. They were good. It wasn’t even a day yet and the gossip sites were buzzing. The public ran with it, branding her petty and dramatic. Some celebrated, thanking for finally stepping aside for ‘true love’ to prevail. Adriana had taken to the internet too. She made a video with tears, insisting she’d never meant to break them apart. Two-faced bitch. Throughout Hermione’s relationship with Cole, Adriana had never stopped sending threats and instigated conflicts for her to let Cole go. Hermione had once been willing to swallow her pride and bear the humiliation. Thankfully, she no longer had a reason to. She was done worrying about how the world saw her. She wanted a quiet life now, assuming Rhys would allow it. She doubted he would, not with the simmering hatred between them. Still… she was grateful. ‘If not for him…’ the thought made her shudder. Her father, at least, had been pleased when she sent the marriage certificate. Why wouldn’t he? Rhys Huxley was one of the richest men in the country. Compared to him, Cole Sterling was like a speck of dust. In her father’s eyes, she’d struck gold. The sound of a car pulling up broke her thoughts. Hermione closed her laptop and sat straighter as Rhys approached through the garden. She hadn’t expected him home so soon. After he’d hung up on her abruptly earlier, she’d assumed he wouldn’t return tonight. This was a marriage of convenience after all and their reason for their union was nothing less than tragic. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he spent tonight tangled up in the arms of another woman just to piss her off. Ultimately, she didn’t really have high hopes. Rightfully so. Her stomach tightened as he stopped in front of her. “You’re home.” She said quietly. His expression remained unreadable as he took the seat opposite her. “What are you doing out here?” He asked. “Taking in the scenery,” she replied, sliding the laptop aside. Then, after a brief pause, she added softly, “I’d like to thank you for this. My dad was quite pleased when he saw the marriage certificate.” Rhys’s eyes narrowed slightly. “He was?” He said, almost like a question. Then, he chuckled. “Well, how the tables have turned.” Hermione frowned, not understanding what he meant. He didn’t elaborate and continued, “Don’t thank me just yet. This is only the beginning.” He sighed, glancing around before saying, “We will be visiting my family tomorrow. Be prepared. They’re eager to meet you.” Hermione blinked, caught off guard. She’d half-expected him to marry her and tuck her away somewhere as punishment, somewhere out of sight. She hadn’t anticipated being paraded in public, much less introduced to his parents. “Why?” She blurted out before she could stop herself. When he cocked a brow, she added, “Do you want me to meet them?” He shrugged. “Why not? You are my wife now.” ‘He did say this marriage was for life. He wasn’t joking.’ She thought bitterly. He added, “It’s not like you haven’t met them before. Don’t be nervous. They haven’t changed much.” Rhys was right. Hermione had met his parents before. They had been kind and warm to her, a picture perfect family with a son and a daughter. Back then, they had just come across new money and were only just stepping into the elite society. They had moved into a new neighborhood and were pushing their teenagers to socialize. In school, Rhys had been the quiet boy with glasses, always avoiding people like a plague. He’d fascinated her then, those green eyes hidden behind thick frames he didn’t need, watching everything, saying nothing. She recalled the day she first approached him in the secluded part of the library. He couldn’t meet her eyes after she saw a glimpse of his maths test paper. There was a bold, red F on the sheet. He’d failed… woefully, and she laughed until he broke out a small smile. That Rhys no longer existed now. In his place stood the cold, unyielding man before her, and it was partially her fault. “Okay,” she said softly. She wanted him to stay, to sit, to say something more, but he rose abruptly, already turning to leave. Before he could walk away, she spoke, her voice steady despite the tightness in her chest. “It’s our wedding night. Don’t you want me to warm your bed?” She asked shamelessly. Between them, there was no shame left. Whatever boundaries once existed had been shattered long ago. He turned, one brow lifting in faint amusement. “Are you that eager?” He asked. “What’s your plan? To get pregnant, inherit half of my wealth through our child, and ditch me?” Of course. That was how he saw her. “I’m only trying to fulfill my duties as your wife,” she replied evenly. He paused, his gaze sweeping over her face as though committing it to memory. The intensity made her shift, a strange feeling curling in her stomach. “Not tonight,” he said finally. “I’m tired. You should get some rest too, Hermione.” Her name softened in his mouth. “If you insist,” she nodded. He left without another word. Hermione exhaled slowly and opened her laptop. The screen lit up. She stared at it for a long moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then, without hesitation, she moved. After a few deliberate clicks, a minor share shifted to her name. She closed the laptop before the transaction even finished processing. By the time the confirmation appeared, she had already leaned back in her chair, her expression giving nothing away.TWO YEARS LATER The garden was bathed in golden afternoon sunlight, the kind of warm, lazy light that made everything feel softer, slower, more forgiving. Laughter echoed across the manicured lawn as a tiny figure with golden curls and unsteady legs toddled toward the fountain, her chubby arms outstretched. "Lily, no! Not the water!" Yvonne called out, already on her feet. But the two-year-old was faster than she looked. She reached the edge of the fountain just as a pair of strong arms scooped her up from behind, spinning her around in a flurry of giggles. "Gotcha!" Rhys laughed, lifting his daughter high above his head. "You thought you could escape Daddy, didn't you?" "Again! Again!" Lily squealed, her little hands clapping. Hermione watched from the shaded patio, a glass of lemonade in her hand and a smile so wide it almost hurt. Two years. Two years since the rain, since the confession, since the kiss that had brought them back together. Two years since she had stopped run
Hermione entered her house and shut the door behind her, then slid down against it and sat on the floor. The sob she had been trying to contain since that morning finally slipped out. After signing their divorce papers, she had made up her mind never to show her face to Rhys again. Marcus had helped her find this secluded estate on the edge of town, and she'd been planning to leave the country in two days—before Marcus let it slip that she was the CEO. She knew he had done it on purpose, to get her to stay and complete their revenge plan. She was angry at him for bringing the spotlight to her during such a difficult time, but the deed had already been done. When she saw Rhys standing at the back of that conference room, she had thought he'd come to scold and insult her—after all, she had used him to establish Vancroft Automobile in the capital. But that wasn't the case at all. Rhys had actually found out the truth and come to beg her. His relationship with Judith had been fake, only
Luckily for Rhys, he got his answer the next morning. The whole of the capital woke up to two spectacular news stories. The first was the downfall of the Windsor family. Tony Windsor resigned from his position overnight amidst his uncle's arrest for embezzlement crimes. A cease and desist order was sent to their home, and everything was confiscated. In a single day, they were left with nothing as the bank threw the rest of the family out of the house. The shareholders held an emergency meeting to deliberate on who would be the next head. The choice was between Rhys Huxley and the CEO of Vancroft Automobile. They were in the middle of their meeting when the second big news of the morning dropped. {Mystery CEO of Vancroft Corporation and Sterling Industries Revealed to Be Hermione Huxley.} The media went into a frenzy. The woman who had been painted as a spoiled heiress, a failed wife, and a victim of scandal was, in fact, one of the most powerful business figures in the count
Rhys sat in his dark study, hesitating before inserting the USB into his laptop. Soon, a familiar image of him and Hermione from nine years ago—in his former bedroom—flickered onto the screen. It had taken him an entire day to finally brace himself to view the tape. This was the video that had started this whole mess. Before things escalated, he paused the footage, his expression grim. He wasn't watching for pleasure, this was an investigation. From the angle and direction, the video had been taken from a gap in the door. He knew his old room well and could tell exactly where the intruder had been standing. The person had actually been inside his house that night. The only other person at home had been Gianna, but she had stepped out earlier. Then who could it have been? Rhys studied the footage for a while before his eyes widened. He suddenly jolted from his seat, grabbed his coat, and stormed out of the house. Soon, he was parked in front of Windsor Enterprise. But this time,
"No. This can't be possible." Rhys shook his head, his voice cracking. "He couldn't have... no. She didn't..." "Rhys..." Evelyn started. "Why didn't you tell me?" His eyes turned red, wet with unshed tears. "Do you know what I've done? What I did to her?" "We didn't think you were in the right headspace to accept the truth back then. You were a depressed mess," George said gently. Evelyn added, "You would sit in the bathtub all day, and I had to check in every hour to make sure you hadn't harmed yourself. At that time, we thought the best thing was to move you away. And we were right—you did get better. Telling you would have just brought back all the terrible memories, so we decided to let you move on." George sighed. "When you revealed Hermione was your wife, we thought you two had made up. You looked so in love, so we didn't want to interfere. We knew what that girl had suffered, so we tried to make her feel as welcomed as possible. Not to mention, we still felt guilty for le
When he arrived at his parents' house, no one was eagerly waiting to welcome him like they had done the last time he came with Hermione. He shook off the memory and entered the sitting room, where his parents were already waiting. Gianna was typing away on her phone on the opposite couch. When she saw him, her face brightened. "Brother, you're here." She beamed. Rhys ruffled her hair before taking a seat across from his parents. "Good evening, Dad, Mom. You called." He got straight to the point. His father spoke first, while his mother glared at him. "What's this we're hearing? People are saying you divorced Hermione. Is that true?" Rhys remained silent for a moment as all eyes bored into him. Then he sighed and nodded. "Yes. We decided to part ways. We both signed the divorce papers, but they haven't been filed yet. Once they are, I'll put out an official statement." "Are you out of your mind?" Evelyn spat. "Why would you do something like that?" "Mom, calm down," Gianna inte
When Rhys saw Hermione arrive at the registry in that backless dress, silk clinging to her in all the right places, he nearly lost his composure. She was breathtaking. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed to tear his gaze away from her body and focus on the marriage proceedings instead o
Hermione drove herself to the marriage registry the next morning, her expression blank and unreadable. “Hermione! Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” Her father’s furious voice exploded through the phone. “What is this nonsense I’m hearing? Your fiancé is with another woman? Aren’t you ashame
Hermione’s apartment felt hollow when she returned. She kicked the door shut and stood there, staring at the neatly stacked wedding gifts lining the wall. Boxes she would never open. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey, uncorked it, and took a long drink straight from the bottle. The burn scorched her
[Cole Sterling spotted picking up his childhood sweetheart, top model Adriana, from the airport a day before his wedding. What does this mean for Hermione Windsor?] The headline flashed across Hermione’s phone as she stared at the screen in disbelief. Her fingers trembled as she scrolled. Beneat







