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[Vivienne]
The dinner at the table turned cold an hour ago but no sign of Caden.
I check the time on the wall clock for the hundredth time perhaps, and try to suppress the hurt that once again rises to the surface like an angry volcano beneath my chest.
It’s our third anniversary, and it’s almost midnight now, but like every single day in the past three years, he’s late as usual.
I don’t know why I even try. My husband has dismissed me, rejected my efforts, and broken my heart so many times in the past, one would think I would have learned my lesson.
But unfortunately, I have been cursed to be always hopeful.
“Madam, should I reheat the dinner?” The head maid asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I suck in the hurt and wipe away the tears from my eyes, not wanting to look as devastated as I feel.
I smile at her like I always do.
“No. That won’t be necessary,” I say and get up from the chair, pretending to yawn, hoping to look tired. “I think Caden got caught up in the meeting again,” because that happens so often that now it has become the best excuse of my life. “You can clean the table and leave when you’re done.”
I start to leave when she speaks again. “And what about the cake? Should I—?
Before she gets to finish, a tear finally rolls down my face. I’m just glad with my back turned to her, she can’t see how miserable I feel right now. “Distribute it among the staff. It’s been a long, tiring day for all of us. Let them treat themselves.”
Doesn’t matter the fact that I baked the cake myself, that I spent almost my whole day preparing for the dinner and the celebration after. Nothing matters anymore.
I head upstairs to my room, wanting to get rid of the red gown I wore for the occasion. It wasn’t myfavourite color, but back in time when we dated for a few weeks, he once complimented me during one of our dates, saying that red looked good on me. It brought my hazel eyes out.
At that time, I was the girl over the moon at his words. I thought no one was more beautiful than me, luckier than me, fortunate than me.
I was wrong.
I discard the dress on the couch and walk into the bathroom to get fresh. By the time I return, my phone is already crying for my attention. With a strength that I no longer feel in my bones, I somehow drag myself to where I left it on the bed and almost frown at the name that flashes on the screen,
Samuel: Wanna see what Caden’s up to tonight?
Not again, I think.
Samuel is Caden’s older brother and although he’s nice to me and all, I don’t like the way he talks about Caden. He’s always trying to paint a bad picture of my husband in front of my eyes, always trying to prove how I do not deserve him, how Caden hasn’t moved on from his first love—Astrid—and still meets with her behind my back, and how everything I do for my husband is nothing but a waste of my time.
The truth is he’s right. And I know that because at the time we got married, Caden made it pretty clear that Astrid holds a special place in his heart and that no matter what happens between us, no matter how long we stay in this marriage, nothing I do would change that fact ever.
I scoff at my stupid heart, because even though deep down I always knew he would never love me like he loved Astrid, I still stupidly acted like a lovesick puppy around him.
I tap on the screen and the text message opens with a picture on display. A screenshot of a News channel, showing my husband walking to an after-party with a blonde woman in his arm.
Not only is my husband glued to the hip of that woman, but they also seem to be sharing a passionate kiss.
On the lips.
What the fuck?
I throw the phone away and slump on the bed, crying my heart out.
I don’t even know for how long I stay like that, curled up in myself, that when the next time I open my eyes, I feel a little disoriented.
I feel warm hands on my body, and someone whispering hot breath next to my ear.
It takes me a moment to catch up with what’s going on around me and another moment to realize that it’s not a dream.
Caden yanks at the strings of my night dress, revealing my breasts to him. Without wasting any time, he latches his mouth on one of my nipples, while pinching the other one roughly.
I hiss in pain. “Caden—” I say, my voice hoarse from crying.
The music begins, loud and heavy, filling every corner of the room, and the girls start dancing. I do too. I may not be a professional, but Lorraine taught me this at a sleepover once. She’s also a freelance choreographer—if I forgot to mention that before.The beat drops, low and heavy, vibrating through the floor and up my legs, and for a second, I let it take over.No thinking. No second-guessing.Just movement.I roll my shoulders, let my hips follow, my body slipping into the rhythm like it’s second nature. The girls behind me fall into sync, their movements sharp and confident, their laughter soft and practiced.And me?I’m smiling.Not because I’m enjoying this. Not really.But because every pair of eyes in this room is exactly where I want them to be.On me.Especially Luca’s.He would have never guessed that I could move like this—that I could do anything e
[Benjamin]Stand there and look pretty, she said.And she said it with so much confidence that I almost gave in and said, “Why, thank you!”Which, to say the least, is worlds apart from what I should be saying to a stranger who thinks dragging me out here for God knows what is the most normal thing to do.It isn’t—just in case you’re wondering.I just had an ugly argument with an asshole assistant who, for lack of a better word, completely screwed up my entire business trip with his incompetence.You would think someone who’s trained for months would know how to handle simple tasks—like not booking the wrong flight, not scheduling meetings at impossible times, and definitely not losing my confidential files. But no. Instead of doing what he was supposed to do, he decided to act like he was doing me a favor by showing up late and expecting me to clean up after his mess.So no, I’m not in the mood to be dragged into some random club by a woman who thinks she can hire me for some vague j
[Ariana]Brimming with nervous excitement, I pace the narrow street behind the club, waiting for the hottie to show up—because apparently, my night now depends on a stranger with good cheekbones.According to Loraine, Sweet Poison—you wouldn’t really expect them to use their real name, would you?—had taken a day off for “personal reasons,” but just for me, she dragged him back.I just hope he actually shows up so my surprise for Luca lands exactly the way it plays out in my head—dramatic, flawless, and mildly devastating.I’d hate for the details to fall apart now. That would be tragic. For me. Not Luca.In a way, I’m kind of a perfectionist. So even if it’s revenge I’m after, it’s going to be organized, well-planned… and executed with style.Just then, the heavy back door of the club swings open, and a man steps out.The first thing I notice is the cigarette lit between his lips—and the way that black leather jacket clings to his broad, almost perfectly sized shoulders.Dammit. When
[Ariana]“Oh, my God. What?” Loraine gasps, looking at me with those big green eyes of hers.I just told her everything that happened ever since I overheard Luca bitching about me behind my back, in front of a dozen of his friends no less. And then that lovey-dovey, sparks-flying moment he had with Bianca right in front of me.To say she looks enraged would be an understatement.“You’ve got to be kidding me!” She fumes, hands on her perfect, round hips. “What the fuck does he think of himself? Cheap imitation, my foot! His good-for-nothing brain is a cheap imitation of garbage. Bloody asshole. Just pray that I don’t see him any time soon, babe. I swear to God, I’ll break his teeth and shove them down his throat.”I’m not sure if Loraine is actually capable of pulling off something so… bizarre, but it makes me shiver anyway.Knowing her, I wouldn’t ever want to be on her bad side. The girl has a serious temper, and it doesn’t help that when she’s not running the club for her family, sh
For some reason, I could never gather the courage to tell him. At first, I told myself it was because I didn’t want to intimidate him, didn’t want to make him feel small or threatened.But later, I realized it wasn’t just that—I simply never got the space to have that kind of conversation with him. The kind that goes deeper than surface-level talk, the kind where I could actually be honest about who I am and what I’ve built.I didn’t realize it before, but everything with Luca always revolved around him—his mood, his temper, his needs. Every single moment was measured against how he was feeling that day. If he was in a good mood, I had to be careful not to ruin it. If he was in a bad mood, I had to tiptoe around him so I wouldn’t make things worse. And even on his normal, okay days, I still had to hold myself back, afraid of making anything “too much” for him.It was exhausting, constantly adjusting, co
[Ariana]The moment I step into the Midnight Club, the first thing that hits me—hard—is the music.It’s not just loud; it’s booming, pounding through the air so violently it feels like it’s shaking the walls themselves.The bass thumps against my chest, the lights flash in dizzying patterns, and for a second, it’s almost overwhelming—like I’ve walked straight into chaos that refuses to slow down.I’m not sure if I’ve confessed this earlier, but I’m not a huge fan of clubbing or socializing.In fact, I’m the last person to put on a dress, ready to become the life of the party.For better or worse, I’m a geek through and through. I’ve never been the kind of person who thrives in loud crowds or lives for wild nights out. Give me a quiet corner, something to read—even a fashion magazine—and I’m perfectly content. I’d take that any day over getting drunk with people I don’t even like, people I would rather never cross paths with again.But Luca? He’s the complete opposite. He feeds off the
[Caden]“So, what would you like to order?” I ask, gazing into her deep brown eyes as she looks at me with a slightly shy smile on her face.Ever since we walked into this restaurant, not far from the hotel, she has been oddly quiet. Not quiet in the sense that she looks unhappy or uncomfortable, b
[Vivienne]Every time I think I have seen the worst, something happens and leaves me beyond frustrated and baffled for my own good.This time, it’s the audacity of Caden’s birth family.How can they be so shameless? Do they have no humanity? No emotions? No sentiments for their only child? The only
[Vivienne]It’s been an hour since we found Axel, and he hasn’t stopped crying.I understand his pain—his guilt. But he’s only five. He’s not supposed to feel that way. That bad. That deeply.This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have left the kids alone in the first place. We are in a foreign country,
[Vivienne]“Dr. Kaito will see you now,” the receptionist announced.I look up from my lap and glance around for the hundredth time.Ever since we walked into the building, I have been nervous as hell—and for all the right reasons, I would like to say.For the first time, Dr. Kaito will see Axel, a







