They married on terms and conditions, but she fell for him along the way and hoped he would open up to her one day. Her joy knew no bounds when he finally consummated the marriage close to their anniversary. Who knew the supposed rosy next morning, he would serve her divorce papers? And the reason? His beloved was back!
Lihat lebih banyakA Loveless Marriage.
Valenticia's POV:
I stood in the kitchen, my fingers trembling slightly as I arranged strawberries around the rim of a porcelain plate. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of buttered croissants and scrambled eggs.
"Is this alright, madam?" Maria, the maid, held up a crystal vase filled with soft pink peonies—Dmitri’s favourite.
"It’s perfect,” I whispered, my voice barely rising above a whisper.
"Madam, shall I bring in the flowers?" She asked, once again.
"Yes, please." I offered a smile, clutching the hem of my lavender dress. "Set them by the table.”
When she was done, I turned to her with a wide smile. "Thank you, Maria."
She nodded, returning the smile before retreating into the corridor.
I wanted everything to be perfect.
Tomorrow would be our first anniversary. One year since I had married Dmitri Galden, trading my heart and future for an arranged marriage.
It was meant to be, something his grandfather wanted, but somewhere along the lines, my heart had betrayed me. I had fallen in love with my husband, despite the cold, business-like terms that bound us.
And for the first time in a year, he finally acknowledged me as his wife and consummated our marriage last night.
Since It was the first night we had shared a bed, I am convinced that it was the beginning of something real.
I smoothed my dress, a lavender silk that Dmitri had once complimented. My hair fell in loose waves over my shoulders, and I dabbed a bit of his favourite perfume on my wrists. I wanted everything to be perfect.
A creak echoed through the hall. I turned, my heart leaping.
"Dmitri?"
He stood at the entrance, already dressed in a black suit, his brown hair was still damp from a shower, strands clinging to his forehead. He looked every bit the powerful CEO, exuding a cold, unapproachable aura.
"I made breakfast," I said, forcing brightness into my voice. "I thought we could celebrate early—"
"I don’t have time." He said, coldly.
"But... I wanted us to have a nice breakfast, you know, before our anniversary." I took a hesitant step forward. "It’s been a year, Dmitri. I thought—"
"Don’t." His gaze slid past me. "I have meetings all day."
"Please." My voice cracked. "Just a few minutes. I made your favourite—"
He was already walking away.
Feeling really desperate, I reached out for his sleeve. "Dmitri!"
He paused. "Let go, Valenticia."
"Just one bite. One sip of coffee. Anything. Please."
He turned, and the look in his eyes stole the breath from my lungs. There was nothing there, no warmth, no recognition. Just coldness.
"I said I don’t have time."
And then he was gone.
I stood there, my arm still outstretched, my hand grasping nothing but air.
I waited for him all day, till it was night.
The dinner I prepared went cold, and the candles burned down to waxy stubs.
I sat by the window, my vision blurred by both tears and the darkness outside.
‘Will he come back?’ I asked myself, as I forced my eyes to stay open.
I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes again, the sun was already rising. I sat upright, my heart thundering.
Then I rushed to the window, to see his car in the driveway.
I smoothed my dress and ran down the hall. His bedroom door was slightly ajar, as I rushed in.
The shower was running.
So I stood there, pacing back and forth. My mind racing with a thousand and one questions.
When he emerged, he stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist and I rushed to him.
"Dmitri!" I began. "You came home."
He said nothing, so I continued. "Where were you? I waited all night. Did I do something wrong? Why are you avoiding me?” My words tumbled out.
He ignored me, moved to the dresser, opened the drawer, and pulled out a stack of papers. Then he turned, around with his hands stretched out. "Sign these.” He demanded.
My fingers curled around the edges of the stack. "What are these?" I asked.
“Divorce papers.” He replied, curtly.
My eyes widened, and my fingers trembled as they gripped the papers tightly. “Why?” I finally managed to ask. “The other night—” I stuttered. "Dmitri, please. I don’t understand. After... after that night, I thought—”
"That night was a mistake." He interjected
"But it wasn’t! It meant something—I know it did!"
"It was a mistake.” He repeated. "That night. I was drunk."
"But... but we’re married. We made vows—"
"I don’t love you, Valenticia."
"You said... you said you’d try. You promised." I clapped back, my voice rising.
"I promised nothing. This was a business arrangement, and now it’s over.” He replied, coldly.
"Then why... why consummate our marriage?" My voice rose. "Why give me hope?"
“I spent my whole life proving myself to him. Being the perfect grandson. The perfect heir. But my grandfather had to throw the ultimatum, of marrying you or losing my inheritance.” He began. “And to prove myself to him, I married you and lost the love of my life. But my grandfather is dead, and I don't have to be with you anymore.”
I stumbled back, the edge of the bed catching me. My knees buckled, and I sank onto the mattress. “I know you love me, Dmitri.”
"Stop it, Valenticia!” He barked. “Natasha is back, the woman I love is back. So I don't need this anymore.”
Tears welled up in my eyes as I asked. “Are you really doing all this to me because your Ex-girlfriend has returned?”
And he nodded.
Shadow's DealStefan’s POV~I squatted in a Seryne safehouse, the stale atmosphere heavy with damp and regret, guilt a blade cleaving through my chest. Valenticia’s face — her piercing hazel eyes, her faith in me broken because of my cafe heart-to-heart with Natasha — haunted me. I’ve hurt her, I thought, feeling my heart like a raw wound. It was Gregor Galden’s doing, driving the deal with the threat to her life—“Spy on her, or she dies”—a bargain I despised but accepted to keep her alive. As the safehouse’s crumbling walls closed in and Seryne’s neon buzz filtered through the boarded windows, terror spiked as I hacked into the logs that tracked Natasha’s serum shipments on a burner laptop. “For you, Valenticia,” I muttered under my breath, sabotaging her lines, shipping crates to no man’s land, resolve dimming like a light with a short in it.There, too, fear pulsed, casting Gregor’s spies a shadow I couldn’t shake. Their drones had been buzzing Seryne’s alleys last night, hunting m
Pier’s Reckoningvalenticia's POV~I was on Seryne’s pier, the waves beating below, a roaring noise, blitzed by the fear in my chest. Ravi Patel stood at the end of the pier, a silhouette against the lights, smirk chilling, slowly turning my way. “You’re late, Clawford.” Mentz snarled, that cutting-in-the-air voice of his, which sounded like sanding boards across salt air. My heart pounded, fear sharp—Christ, he’s Gregor’s mole, but how much more does he know? The tape recorder in my pocket hummed, awaiting his confession, heavy with Rosanna’s file, my satchel. Eleanor’s locket was warm against my clothes, and my mother’s voice whispered against the locket-- Hush, my star--and I was determined. “Speak, Ravi,” I said sternly — “why would you betray us?” His laughter was ice, “Stefan has delivered you to Gregor - your lover has sold you out”. My heart split, agony shard piercing through—Stefan?Fear spiked, piercing doubt—are we already lost? I held the phone, live-feed of Seryne’s und
Traitor’s GameNatasha's POV~I braced myself against the rusted railing of my Seryne dockside lair, the scent of salt and diesel tearing at my nostrils, a smirk pulling at my lips while I paged through Ravi Patel’s intel on my tablet. “She’s trapped,” I grumbled, Valenticia Clawford’s leaks—the ousting of Galden’s board, the tying of Lazareth to serum—gleaming like pressed metal I’d soon squash. The shadows of the warehouse danced, decoy serum crates slumbering, my effort to bait Valenticia wobbling as purchasers recoiled from her transmission. A small bright flicker of fear—Gregor’s going to turn me in, isn’t he? My leather jacket groaned, red hair spilling over one eye, my knife’s handle cool in my hand, a leash to hold on to. Gregor’s sham arrest, his cold voice echoing in my head from our previous conversation, was a chain I would’ve broken, but now his silence bit at me— what was he up to? And drove the fear down, the ambition searing to overtake him.The tablet’s blue light ca
Dr. Patel's POV-Rosanna’s file lay open on my desk, and it screamed betrayal: Ravi, my brother, named as Galden’s mole. How could he? I thought, my hands shaking, our memories as boys — sharing kites under Mumbai’s sky — in flames now. Fear shot through me like a cold pulse as I opened a secure line to Valenticia, my voice quavering: “Ravi’s double-crossing you, releasing your plans to Gregor. Her breathless voice snapped: “Patel, you’re sure?” I clutched at the desk, “Rosanna’s evidence—it’s him. The thing was, my Galden past — as a serum trigger-maker — was smothering me with shame. I had made this bad dream, I thought, feeling a surge of fear. Valenticia’s firm, “Get proof,” centred me, but dread murmured — can I meet my brother?The monitors hummed, Valenticia’s Galden Exposed leak looping, Ravi’s name a wound. I hacked a drive stolen from him, serum formulas I’d designed, reworked now for warheads…and I can’t do it, Ravi, my fingers fumbling, heart pounding—he’s not the Ravi I u
Board’s GambitValenticias POV~“Clara Vane, tech support,” I said, forcing calm into my voice despite the tremor pounding in my chest, and thrusting a fake badge at the security desk of Seryne’s glassy high-rise. The guard, his eyes glacial beneath the lobby’s chandeliers of crystal, nodded, beckoning for me to pass forward. My heart was thumping, my tech assistant disguise — a black blazer, fake glasses, brunette wig — felt like a construction-paper shield against Galden’s empire. The elevator buzzed upward, delivering me to the 40th floor where Gregor’s board gathered in their Lazareth serum ties, the secret I would reveal. Rosanna’s file, nestled in the bottom of my satchel, seared my side, claiming that Dr. Patel’s brother, Ravi, a spy who supplied Gregor with information—is Patel compromised? A grim spike of fear went through me, like a cold blade, shattering trust that I had only recently rebuilt. My fingers found the locket Eleanor gave me, the silver rose a link to my mother
The Final StageRosanna's POV~The old theatre of Seryne was a ruin of decayed glory, its velvet curtains torn, its atmosphere as laden with dust as with the ghostly echo of clapping long gone. I lurked in the shadows of the balcony, strands of silver hair tucked beneath a dark scarf, my hands pressed against the broken railing, fear stabbing keen in my chest. Beneath, on the splintered boards of the stage, Valencia stood opposite Dr. Elias Marrow, her dark hair aglow in a dim spotlight, her pose defiant, although I’d glimpsed the tremble she tried to conceal. I felt it in my heart, fear was a savage sword—she’s so young, so brave. The memory chip’s revelations, Gregor Galden’s serum stash, Natasha’s uncovered leak—this was all forming a noose tightening around my granddaughter, my Eleanor’s heritage. The silence of the theater was oppressive, Seryne’s midnight still shattered only by the straining of old wood, and I leaned forward, my shawl slipping, fear whispering what if we lose h
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