INICIAR SESIÓNHe was arrogant, wealthy, and cold-hearted the last person I ever thought I’d end up married to. But when desperation knocked on my door, and I needed a sponsor to stay in school, he was the only one who answered. The contract was simple: no feelings, no drama, no strings attached. But in a house filled with secrets, stolen glances, and unexpected touches, lines began to blur. I swore I wouldn’t fall for him. He swore he didn’t have a heart. Now we’re married for the world to see… But what happens when the fake starts to feel real? I thought I signed a contract. I didn’t know I was signing my heart away.
Ver más"I wonder where it all went wrong? Is this death...? Goddamn it-..." said the girl as she placed her hand on her head.
Those were the girl's final words.
She was bleeding and crying in pain as she laid on the rough ground.
An hour back. *
My name is Sarah James (an average college student). The way I'm looking at it right now, my life was hell. I wasn't really the best nor was I the worst. I was just an average student. But, thinking back I suppose that my death was the shittiest part of my life.
I remember being run down by a car that was driven by some loud couple, when I was on my way to look for a job. I can't say if it was the couple's fault for hitting me with their car or my fault for reading a novel on my phone without paying attention to my surroundings... Though, I guess the fault lies on both sides…
I turned to my side and found the couple who were in a panic. I wanted to tell them “I am fine.” But the words couldn’t come out of my mouth. I saw blood everywhere around me. I was in a panic. I didn’t want to die.
I had been wanting to live an independent life ever since I was a child. Why must I die right now...?
When the accident happened, I felt like my whole life had been flashed before me. I was a child who had no father.
My mother who was a workaholic, had no time to look after me. Now that I think about it, I spent more time with my nanny than with my mother. I was treated like air in school. I had no friends. I never even fell in love.
I wish I could have made friends even if it was just one person. I wanted to have someone who could understand me. The true me.
I wanted to fall in love as well... How stupid. Why am I having these thoughts right now...?
When I opened my eyes, I had realized that that I didn't die.
"A relief, I guess."
Wait a minute that wasn't my voice was it.? And where am I...?
This luxurious setting definitely isn't my room.
"Rubia! Thank heavens you’re all right " Said a handsome man whom I guess was in his late 30's.
"Dear, you have finally woken up." Said a woman who was on the verge of tears.
"Rubia…?"
My name was Sarah, wasn't it??
"Is something the Matter dear? You have been acting strangely." asked the Woman
"Mirror."
"Mirror?" asked the man
"May I have a mirror please."
"All right dear... Gerome." said the man to another man standing by me
"Yes, your grace."
Woah, there's even a guy cosplaying as a butler...!
When I looked into the mirror, I had realized the situation I was in. This was the biggest joke that life had ever played on me.
I remember having short yet curly black hair with black eyes like every other person in Asia but... The shiny yet straight silver hair that almost reached my waist along with the eyes that almost looked like emerald …?
It wasn't my body...?!
"My name? What is my name?" asked the girl as she placed her hands on her cheeks
" 'Rubia Mary Albert Charleston' that is your name dear is everything all right? " Answered the woman
Sarah's Pov -
I was not surprised anymore since now I knew... I'm the villainess of one of the novels written by one of my most favourite authors the novels name was ' True Love '.
It was one of the novels that didn't click with me because I felt bad for the villainess but... Hey, why the hell am I the villainess...? But, before that the most important thing is...
“Then, I suppose you are my parents?” asked Sarah
“That is right, dear.” Said the Duchess
Sarah's Pov -
And now I have understood that the man is actually Rubia's father in the novel and the woman is Rubia's mother, along with the butler Gerome who took care of Rubia when she was young... This place is the Charleston Dukedom.
"So, you are the Duke of Charleston...?" asked Sarah
"Yes, and this is my wife, your mother the Duchess of Charleston Dear." Answered the Duke
Sarah's Pov -
The man seemed to have silver hair and blue eyes and the woman had pink hair and green eyes. Honestly, they were down to earth beautiful! But, right now… All I want to do is sleep. I will leave the thinking for after I wake up. If I do.
TO BE CONTINUED...
The bell above the bookshop door chimed softly as Ava stepped inside. The scent of old pages and steeped tea wrapped around her like an old friend. The shelves hadn’t changed much in the years since she last came. Still crooked in places. Still filled with poetry and rebellion.It had been five years since the garden.Five years since she stepped through the glass doors of the Sinclair Wolfe Foundation and whispered to herself, This time, it’s mine.And it had been five years of real, messy, beautiful work.She still had the notebook Grayson had given her on their wedding day. It was half filled now ink bleeding from long nights, hard truths, and the stories of women who once believed they didn’t have a choice.But today wasn’t about any of that.Today was just… her.A rare, quiet moment where she wasn’t Ava Sinclair-Wolfe: CEO, advocate, or headline.She was just a woman craving a story that didn’t belong to he
The room wasn’t a ballroom. It wasn’t even a chapel. It was a garden tucked behind the Sinclair-Wolfe Foundation building quiet, filled with sun-drenched wildflowers, and bordered by trees that didn’t ask for applause. There were no rows of expensive chairs. No string quartet. No designer veil flown in from Paris. But there was laughter. There was sunlight. And there was Ava, standing beneath a wooden arch built by hand and draped in soft linen and eucalyptus. She wasn’t wearing white. She wore soft gold the kind of gold that doesn’t scream royalty but hums with memory. The fabric moved like wind around her legs, and her curls were pinned back with a single silver clip. Grayson stood across from her. He wore no tux. Just a dark blue suit and a look that said: finally. They hadn’t invited hundreds. Just thirty. All of them real. All of them chosen. Luisa sat in the front row, teary eye
The city had quieted into its own kind of hush one only found in the hours between dusk and midnight. And for the first time in days, Ava stood alone on the balcony of the Sinclair Wolfe tower, looking out at the skyline not as a cage, not even as a canvas but as a mirror. Below her, traffic pulsed and life moved forward. But up here, the world waited. And so did she. It had been a week since the tribunal. Since she stood under oath and let the truth cut clean through years of silence. Her words had echoed through the courtroom like dropped stones in deep water. Not angry. Not trembling. Just real. And finally, hers. No one had spoken to Grayson since the verdict. Not even her. Luisa had tried once. Knocked on the glass office door where he sat staring at old photographs and the crumbling scaffolding of a legacy built on omission. But he waved her away with a look Ava knew too well one that said: “I need to fall apart priva
The news broke just after dawn. At first, it was a whisper a shadow passed between watchdog forums and anonymous tip lines. But by sunrise, it had exploded. Someone had leaked a massive archive. Not Ava. Not her foundation. Not a journalist hungry for credit. This time, the leak came from the inside. An anonymous Dropbox link had been emailed to four different investigative bodies. Each recipient confirmed it was clean, untraceable, and precise. Inside the folder: over two hundred documents. NDAs, payoffs, legal silencing mechanisms, offshore wire transfers, and worst of all boardroom meeting minutes dating back decades. But the most damning was a scanned memo, signed and initialed by G. Wolfe Sr., Grayson’s late father. In it, he authorized a “clean up budget” to eliminate reputational threats from female employees. The words were cold. Calculated. A legacy dressed in blood and bureaucracy. By 9 a.m., the internet was ablaze.
The tape arrived in a plain envelope, slid under Ava’s door like a secret confession. No stamp, no sender. Just her name scrawled in looping cursive.She stared at it for hours before she finally slid the USB into her laptop.A single audio file blinked back:RENEE_MARKS_FIN
The elevator ride to the top floor of the anonymous high rise was silent too silent. Ava adjusted her blazer, her reflection in the mirrored walls calm, composed. But inside, she was on fire. The message had come in the night, encrypted, unsigned. All it said was: “You’ve
The storm began as a whisper.Not in the sky but in the walls of the Wolfe & Sinclair building.It started with a missing document. Then two. Then a corrupted file Ava distinctly remembered saving three times. By the time Luisa’s laptop froze mid meeting for the third day in a r
The office was unusually quiet that Thursday morning. Ava noticed it the moment she stepped in the kind of silence that doesn’t belong to peace, but to panic disguised as composure.She walked into the main workroom, eyes sweeping over half raised heads and quickly minimized screens.












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