Nancy sat on the edge of the bed, her heart still thudding from her daughterâs unexpected words. Find a prince of your own, Mommy.It wasnât the first time her ten-year-old had said something like this. In her little girlâs innocent world, happy endings were simple: a prince and a princess fell in love and lived happily ever after. But for Nancy, real life wasnât a fairytale. She had convinced herself that she was fine without a man, that she didnât need love to complete her life.Yet, her daughterâs words echoed in her mind, lingering like an unshakable shadow. Was she really okay? Or was she just pretending?A notification pinged on her phone, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was a message from George.George: Room 605. Urgent. Bring the contract.Nancy hesitated before replying. Working late hours wasnât new to her, and meeting George alone in his hotel suite wasnât something she found unusual. But tonight, she felt⌠unsettled. Maybe it was her daughterâs words, or maybe it was
Cynthiaâs heart ached with every failed attempt. No matter how hard she tried, nothing seemed to get his attention. She had poured herself into making every possible effort, hoping that somehow, he would see her, desire her, and give her the attention she craved. But all her attempts were in vain. He didnât even spare her a glance anymore, let alone the affection she so desperately sought. Every time she thought there might be a chance, it was always snatched away, leaving her feeling smaller, invisible.Her eyes flickered to the clock. He was leaving. And she could feel that it was happening againâanother moment, another chance slipping away. But Cynthia wasnât going to let him walk out without her.She had never been one to simply step aside and let things happen. This was her chance, and she wasnât going to let it slip through her fingers like everything else had. As she watched him grab his jacket, preparing to leave, the cold knot of desperation twisted in her stomach. Without th
Cynthia paced back and forth in her bedroom, her hands clenched into fists. Frustration twisted her features, her lips pressed into a tight line as she tried to steady her breathing. Nothing was going as planned. Every single move she made seemed to backfire, and worst of all, George remained indifferent to her struggles.She had expected him to help her, to show even the slightest bit of favor, but he had done the exact opposite. He was distancing himself from herâcold, detached, and completely uninterested.Her jaw tightened at the thought of Hassan, the boy who had been nothing but a nuisance. He was her son, yes, but his existence did nothing but remind her of the biggest mistake of her life. Instead of being a bridge between her and George, he was more of a barrier, refusing to listen to her and always ruining things for her. He wasnât even making an effort to help his mother win Georgeâs heart.Yet, Cynthia had been stunned when George had come to her with a requestâa custody ag
Cynthiaâs chest tightened the moment she heard Nancyâs name. Could it be the same Nancy? Her mind raced, trying to piece things together.No. It canât be. There were thousands of women named Nancy. This had to be a different one.Still, unease coiled inside her like a snake. She couldnât ignore the possibility.And then, Anthony dropped the bombshell.Nancy was the lawyer handling their case.A sharp jolt shot through Cynthiaâs body.Her grip tightened around the edges of the agreement. Her fingers dug into the paper, creasing it, but she barely noticed.She had spent years ensuring that no oneâno oneâknew about her arrangement with George. And now, Nancy of all people was going to find out?Her throat dried up. Her heart pounded against her ribs.Panic swirled in her gut, but she masked it with a soft, almost uncertain laugh.âOh, a lawyer named Nancy?â she said lightly, forcing a small smile. âWell, thereâs no need to call her. This is a personal matter, and I think itâs best we kee
Cynthiaâs hands trembled as she clutched the custody agreement in front of her, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, sending waves of rage coursing through her veins. Her eyes darted across the words on the paper, and with each passing second, the meaning of Georgeâs actions sank deeper into her consciousness.Her breathing grew uneven. âHoneyâŚâ she began, her voice barely above a whisper, trying to mask the panic in her tone. She forced a smile, one that didnât reach her eyes. âCan we⌠Can we talk about this? You donât have to do this, please.âGeorge sat across from her, his expression calm, unreadable, as if he had already anticipated her reaction. He exuded the kind of indifference that made her stomach churn with frustration. He leaned back in his chair, fingers interlocked, staring at her with a look so impassive that it sent chills down her spine.Cynthia swallowed hard. âYou canât expect me toâââTo take responsibility for you
Georgeâs jaw tightened as Nancyâs words echoed in his head. âMy ex-husband is actually better than you.âHe had laughed it off at first, convincing himself she was joking, but the way she constantly compared him to that man, mentioning him so casually, gnawed at him. It wasnât just once. It was again and again, always referring to him as her ex-husband instead of just his name. George had never met this man, yet he was being measured against him like some unworthy competition.And when he finally gathered the courage to ask Nancy outright if she truly believed her ex-husband was better, she had simply fallen asleep, leaving him with his thoughts and a dull ache in his chest.But that wasnât the only storm brewing in Georgeâs life.The next morning, as he walked into his office, Mr. Anthonyâs face was tight with concern. He handed George a tablet.âI think you need to see this,â Mr. Anthony said, his voice grave.George took the device, his stomach twisting into knots. The footage play