Masuk
Sabrina's POV
I stood in the fitting room and reached for the zipper at the back of the dress. The lace felt stiff against my fingers. I had almost skipped today.
Work ran late most days and I told Mike not to wait. But the clinic closed early. I took the chance.
I wanted to see how the dress looked.
My mom had been so excited on the phone. "My little girl in white. Your dad and I will sit in the front row."
My parents spent their savings on this wedding. They own an organic farm in upstate. The farm was their whole life. Twenty years of early mornings and broken equipment. They built it from nothing into something real.
Now with the investment Mike managed, they could ship to three more states. My mom could hire help. I could finally pay off my student loans. I could stop worrying every month about the bank.
I smiled at my reflection. The dress was simple. Clean lines. It felt like me.
Then I heard the sound.
A soft gasp from the next room. Then a low male laugh. The kind Mike made when he got exactly what he wanted.
My hand stopped on the zipper. I listened. Another sound. Skin meeting skin. A woman's voice, breathy and familiar. "Mike, yes. Right there."
My blood went cold.
I knew that voice. Tracy. My first friend in college. My maid of honor. The one who helped me choose the invitations. Who said she would throw me the best bachelorette party.
I moved before I could think. The rooms shared a thin wall. I found the curtain between them and yanked it open in one hard pull.
The sight hit me like a fist.
Mike had Tracy pinned against the mirror. His shirt hung open. His pants were down around his ankles. Tracy's legs were locked around his waist.
She was wearing my dress. The exact one I had chosen after three visits to the shop. The same lace I had run my hands over, imagining walking down the aisle toward him. Now it was shoved up to her ribs.
The white lace bunched and wrinkled. One strap had fallen. Her breast was bare against his hand. He squeezed it while he thrust into her. The mirror shook with every movement. Tracy's head was tipped back. Her mouth open. Her nails dug into his shoulders.
The air smelled thick. Sweat. Tracy's vanilla perfume. The sharp, unmistakable scent of sex.
I stood there. The zipper on my own dress still half undone.
Tracy saw me first. Her eyes opened. She did not stop. She just smiled that slow, satisfied smile she used when she won something.
"Look who showed up," she said. Her voice was thick. "The blushing bride."
Mike turned his head. His rhythm broke.
He looked at me. For one second his face was blank. Then it shifted into something flat and cold. He pulled out of her. Tracy made a small disappointed sound. He turned to face me, one hand still on her hip. He did not cover himself.
"Sabrina," he said. Like my name was something he had to deal with. "You were not supposed to come today."
I found my voice. It came out low and steady. "Get off her. Get out of my dress."
Tracy slid down the mirror. She did not pull the dress down. She let it stay up while she looked at me.
"Relax. We were just blowing off steam. Mike has been so tense with his job. You know how it is. Manager at Titan Capitals comes with pressure."
"Pressure," I said. The word tasted like metal. "So you fuck my best friend in my wedding dress to relax."
Mike finally tucked himself back into his pants. He zipped up but left the button open. "Do not turn this into something bigger than it is. It was just sex. It changes nothing between us."
"It changes everything." I stepped into the room. The carpet felt rough under my shoes. "The wedding is off. I am not marrying a man who cheats on me a week before the ceremony. Especially not with my maid of honor."
Mike's face hardened. He closed the space between us in two steps. His hand shot out and caught my chin. His fingers dug in hard. He forced my face up so I had to look at him. His eyes were flat. "You are not canceling anything."
I tried to pull away. His grip tightened. Pain flared along my jaw.
"You listen to me," he said. His voice stayed low.
"My boss, Mr. Hudson, never shows up at any employee's wedding. This is the first time I've ever had a chance to meet him in person. This could decide my future in the company, so don't you dare screw this up."
"If you cancel this wedding, I cancel the investment. Titan Capitals walks away from your parents' farm. The two million dollars disappears."
"Your dad loses the land. The bank takes everything. Is that what you want? To watch them lose the only thing they have because you got your feelings hurt over a quick fuck?"
The words landed one by one. The farm. My parents in their small kitchen going over bills at midnight. My dad rubbing his chest after a long day in the fields. My mom smiling when the first strawberries turned red.
All of it gone because of this.
Tracy came to stand beside him. She had finally pulled the dress down but it hung crooked on her.
"Come on, Rina, it was not a big thing. You cannot afford to."
My best friend continued to spit out the harsh words.
"Poor little farm girl. Always talking about her big dreams. But without Mike's money those dreams die. You should thank him for even looking at you. Most guys would not bother with a virgin who dresses like a nun and talks about soil samples all day."
So that was what she thought about me?
Mike nodded. His thumb pressed harder into my chin. "She is right. You are lucky I gave you a chance. You are pretty enough. But you are boring. You work too much and always say no since we date. Tracy knows how to take care of a man. You just know how to talk about vegetables."
The humiliation burned hot and sharp. I saw every late night at the clinic. Every time I said I was tired. Every time I chose the farm over going out. He had been keeping score the whole time. And I had failed.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. The lace scratched my arms.
I moved.
I shifted my weight and drove my knee up hard and fast. It connected with a solid, dull thud right between his legs.
Mike made a choked sound. His eyes went wide. His hand dropped from my face. He doubled over, both hands clutching his crotch.
Sabrina's POVTwo months later, the crisp autumn wind swept across the rolling green hills of Winston Farms.I stood near the main loading dock, zipping my fleece jacket over the small, rounded bump of my stomach. A fleet of refrigerated delivery trucks idled in the gravel driveway. Workers loaded wooden crates stamped with a bold, green logo.Winston Organics.We expanded the agricultural operation by three hundred percent. The massive capital injection from Titan Capitals funded four new climate-controlled greenhouses.Our first harvest of pesticide-free strawberries and heirloom vegetables dominated the boutique supermarket chains across the entire state.The farm transitioned from a struggling family business into a premium supplier overnight. I won my career back, securing my parents' legacy for good.Justice arrived just as swiftly as our financial success.The morning news broadcast delivered the final verdict yesterday. The judge sentenced Alex to fifteen years in a maximum-se
Sabrina's POV"You are six weeks pregnant, Mrs. Hudson."The attending doctor set the plastic medical chart on the edge of the mattress. Offering a polite nod, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. The heavy glass door slid shut, sealing the two of us inside.Silence swallowed the emergency ward. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor filled the void, tracking the frantic pace of my pulse. The sharp scent of rubbing alcohol and sterile bandages hung heavy in the cold air.Dominic stood rooted to the linoleum floor. All the color drained from his face, leaving his skin pale under the harsh fluorescent lights. He dropped his gaze to my waist, staring at the oversized white dress shirt covering my stomach. The revelation hit him like a physical blow. He did not move a single muscle.Fear replaced the lingering shock of the warehouse attack. The strict, non-negotiable clause from our prenuptial agreement flashed in my mind. The billionaire demanded absolute obedience on one s
Sabrina's POVA deafening roar shook the corrugated metal walls.Before Alex could take another step, blinding headlights tore through the rolling steel door.A massive SUV obliterated the entrance. Twisted metal and shattered wood rained down across the warehouse floor. The vehicle skidded across the concrete, stopping inches from where I stood.The driver's door kicked open before the tires even settled.Dominic hit the ground. He wore no suit jacket. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, exposing thick forearms.An expandable steel baton snapped to full length in his grip. He carried no trace of corporate elegance. Pure, unadulterated violence radiated from his massive frame.Alex shielded his eyes from the harsh headlights, raising the hunting knife.Dominic did not hesitate. He swung the steel baton in a vicious, horizontal arc. The weapon connected with Alex's wrist. A sharp, sickening crack echoed through the cavernous space.The knife clattered into the shadows. Dropping
Sabrina's POVFreezing water hit my face, shocking the air from my lungs.Coughing violently, I opened my eyes to a ceiling of rusted corrugated tin. The stench of motor oil and decaying wood filled the damp air.Coarse nylon ropes burned the skin off my wrists, securing my arms above my head. The cold iron of a bed frame dug into my spine. Shivering, I looked down. A ridiculous scrap of black lace and white ruffles barely covered my chest.Someone had stripped away my work clothes and forced me into a grotesque maid costume.Footsteps echoed across the concrete floor. A figure stepped out of the shadows. Bare-chested and wearing worn denim jeans, the man carried a barbed leather whip in his right hand.A black leather mask obscured his features, leaving only the dark, manic gleam of his eyes visible in the dim light.He reached up and ripped the mask away.Alex offered a twisted, chilling smile. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a folded stack of papers and threw them onto
Sabrina's POVThe cold war lasted for three days.Dominic never returned to the farmhouse. He did not go back to the Manhattan penthouse either.Andy sent a brief text confirming the billionaire checked into a luxury hotel near Wall Street and buried himself in board meetings. The silence stretched between us, thick and unbreakable.Throwing myself into the farm work offered the only escape from his empty side of the bed. The strawberry harvest required sixteen-hour days.Alex performed flawlessly. He arrived early, stayed late, and kept a ten-foot distance from me at all times. He maintained a respectful, professional barrier. He never mentioned the incident in the lab.Organizing the picking crews and tracking the outgoing shipments with mechanical efficiency, his perfect behavior cemented my belief that Dominic overreacted. Alex possessed awkward boundaries, but he worked hard. I needed the labor to meet the supermarket quotas.Walking into the farmhouse bathroom on Thursday evenin
Sabrina's POVDominic cleared the distance between the door and the workbench in two massive strides.He bypassed the scattered petri dishes. He did not ask questions. He did not demand an explanation for the scene in front of him.His large hand clamped onto the back of Alex's plaid collar. Hauling the smaller man backward, Dominic spun him around. The billionaire pulled his right arm back and drove his fist straight into Alex's face.Bone cracked. The sickening noise bounced off the cinderblock walls, echoing over the hum of the fluorescent lights.Alex flew backward. His spine hit the metal counter. Tools and glass beakers scattered across the linoleum. He crumbled to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs.Dominic loomed over him. Blood coated his knuckles. His chest heaved under his tailored wool suit.Clutching my bleeding finger to my chest, I felt my heart hammer against my ribs.Pushing up on his elbows, Alex let out a low groan. Shards of broken glass from his spectacles litte







