LOGINWhen a relationship begins with an arranged marriage, it’s often expected to end in disappointment. However, Aliya’s situation was different; the man she was forced to marry showed her care more than she could have imagined, and that alone captured her heart. Aliya and Richard got married under forced agreement because of their families to build a business relationship. Both of them stay in the marriage for three years, and Richard has always been there for Aliya; he makes sure she doesn’t feel lonely, he is ready to make her comfortable, and he shows too much care that makes Aliya feel their marriage was never a mistake but the right one. She fell in love and had the hope their fake relationship would come to an end, but her hope was shattered when Richard returned one night with a divorce agreement. Then, it came to her that he had never loved her, but he kept his first love in his heart all through the years. And now, she has to give space to his first love and leave his life. Packing all her things, she left his house feeling miserable. Feeling ashamed, she couldn’t return to her family, so she walked up to a bar and got herself drunk, and she had a nightstand with a stranger. Five years later, Aliya had become successful on her own, and she had to take care of her son alone as a result of the nightstand of five years ago. She did not know the man she had the son for.
View MoreAliya's POVFor a moment, I couldn’t answer.Dylan’s father sat across from me in the long dining room, his sharp eyes fixed on my face as if he could peel back every layer of my thoughts. The chandelier above us glowed softly, its golden light reflecting against the polished table like ripples of liquid glass. Outside the tall windows, the city lights flickered faintly in the distance, but inside the room, everything felt still.Too still.Why does he trust you? The question echoed in my mind, heavier than any other he had asked tonight.I slowly folded my hands together on the table, pressing my fingers together, so tightly the tips began to pale. I forced myself to breathe evenly, though my heart was beating fast enough that I was sure he could hear it from across the table.“I think,” I began carefully, “trust is one of those things that’s difficult to explain.”His eyebrows lifted slightly, the faintest expression of curiosity crossing his otherwise composed face.“Go on.”I swal
Aliya's POVDinner began more quietly than I expected.The dining room felt far too large for just three people. A long polished table stretched through the center of the room, its surface reflecting the soft golden glow of the chandelier above. Crystal glasses caught the light each time someone moved, sending small glimmers across the dark wood.Everything looked perfect.Too perfect.Even the plates were arranged with exact precision, the silverware placed so neatly that I hesitated for a moment before touching anything.I smoothed my hands over my dress again as I sat down, pressing the fabric flat against my thighs.“You’re doing that again,” Dylan murmured beside me.His voice was low, barely above a whisper.“Doing what?” I asked quietly.He nodded toward my hands.“Smoothing the dress.”I froze, then slowly folded my hands together in my lap.“I’m nervous,” I admitted softly.Dylan’s shoulder brushed mine under the table as he leaned a little closer.“I know.”His tone was gent
Dylan's POVThe morning after the headlines, the world felt quieter than it should have. Miraculously or maybe through sheer luck, the news had moved on. The press cycle had shifted, and my face was no longer splashed across every channel. The silence was almost unsettling.But calm never lasted long in this house.My father was already in the kitchen when I came down, arms crossed, expression unreadable but sharp enough to make the air feel thinner. He glanced at me like a predator evaluating its prey.“You think this is over?” he said, voice low and clipped.“For the press?” I said evenly. “Yes. For you? Probably not.”His jaw tightened. “You’ve caused enough damage. And now Aliya. She needs to be brought home tonight. If she doesn’t meet my expectations, I will take everything from you. Everything.”A cold knot formed in my stomach. He always made it personal. I kept my tone steady. “I’ll take care of it.”“Good. Don’t disappoint me.”He left before I could respond. The silence he
Dylan's POVThe television keeps talking.I’m barely listening.The news anchor’s voice drones on in the background while images flash across the screen—grainy photos taken outside the club, security guards pulling people apart, a blurry shot of me wiping blood from my mouth. Each image lands like a fist against my chest. My stomach knots, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief.I sit on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched, phone still pressed to my ear, and I can feel the sting of last night’s fight crawling under my skin.“Dylan?” Chris says, his voice low and cautious.“Yeah.”“You see this?”“Unfortunately.”The reporter’s voice continues, clinical and detached, cutting into the room like a cold wind.“…sources say the altercation occurred shortly after midnight outside the downtown club, where witnesses claim Dylan Carter was involved in a physical confrontation…”I press a hand over my face, rubbing at the tension. My cheek is still sore from the punch I took, and when my finge












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