LOGINDamien grunted, and his pleasure tore a cry from my throat. He whipped his face away from Vanessa to stare at me in shock. Then he called my name as he untangled himself from her.
The sight of them made me nauseous. I had to get away.
I shut the door and dabbed my face dry. Anger ignited next to the heartbreak. I would get Bonnie, we would leave and I would never see that unfaithful bastard again.
Mind made up, I hurried back the way I came. Damien’s voice echoed behind me and I ignored him until he grabbed my arm.
The suit I had picked out and carefully pressed was crumpled from their escapades. Vanessa sauntered over, unbothered, with her hair a mess.
“Celeste, please let me explain.” Damien begged.
I pulled my arm free from his grip. “I don’t want to hear it, Damien. There is nothing you could possibly say that will fix this.”
Vanessa reached us and tucked herself into Damien’s side. I could still see a hint of that satisfied smirk on her lips.
“I’m so sorry, Celeste. Neither of us meant for this to happen.” Her voice sounded genuine, while her eyes twinkled with glee. “Damien and I, we just have this connection—”
“Not now, Vanessa.” He interrupted.
Damien being with another woman just two hours before our wedding absolutely broke me. But Vanessa’s betrayal hurt, too.
“I loved you like a sister, Vanessa. How could you do this to me?”
She leaned closer to Damien. “Maybe you should have taken better care of your man, sweetie.”
Her condescending tone made my blood boil. I couldn’t believe I never realised how two-faced and selfish she was.
“Are you seriously saying it’s my fault you slept with my husband?”
Damien detached himself from Vanessa and reached for my hand.
“Look Celeste, if you’ll just calm–”
I stepped back, my voice rising to match my rage. “How long has this been going on? Since she started working for you?” They said nothing. “I can’t believe this!”
“I can explain. Please don’t throw our family away, Celeste.” Damien pleaded.
“You threw our family away when you slept with that backstabbing bitch. This wedding is not happening. I’m taking my daughter and I’m leaving.”
Damien shouted for me to stop and listen. I ignored him and hurried to the makeup room, my emotions in turmoil.
“Mommy, do you like my makeup?” Bonnie asked as soon as she saw me.
Kelly had done a great job. It was a pity it was all in vain.
“Yes, honey. It looks lovely.”
Kelly’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Mrs Kent, your eyeliner is smudged. Let me fix that up for you.”
“It’s alright.” I said as I grabbed my handbag and Bonnie’s hand. “You can go home now, Kelly. Thanks for your hard work.”
I left the confused makeup artist behind and made my way to the venue’s exit as quickly as Bonnie’s legs would allow. I needed to get out of here before Damien found me.
If he was even looking for me.
“Mommy, where’s your pretty white dress?”
“I don’t need it anymore, Bonnie.”
“Why?”
Her question shoved the knife deeper into my heart. I would have to explain to my daughter that our lives as we knew them were over. Our family had been permanently destroyed.
How do you tell a five-year-old that?
I took a deep breath. “Because Daddy and Mommy are not having a wedding anymore.”
“Why?”
I stopped and picked her up.
“Bonnie, Daddy did something bad with Auntie Vanessa.”
“What did Daddy do?”
Her pretty face was so innocent. I could never tell her the truth.
“It doesn’t matter, honey. But we can’t all live together anymore. We’re going home to pack our things and find a new home. Just the two of us.”
Damien may have destroyed our family, but I’d always be Bonnie’s mother and she’d always be my daughter. We’d start over together.
“But I want to live with Daddy and Auntie Vanessa!”
It felt like I’d been sucker-punched in the gut.
This final betrayal hurt beyond anything I could imagine. The child I cared for with all my being chose her father, who hardly had time for her, and her aunt, who never cleaned a single diaper or snotty nose, over me.
It was more than I could take.
Bonnie whined. “I wanna go down. I want Daddy!”
Damien and Vanessa had just come into the reception area. I let Bonnie wiggle out of my hold and watched numbly as she ran and jumped into Vanessa’s arms.
“Honey, are you sure? You won't get to hear a bedtime story from Mommy tonight,” I said, my smile feeling like a mask over the pain.
Bonnie just shrugged, like it didn't matter.
“It's okay, Mommy. Auntie Vanessa can tell me a story.”
“Fine, just don’t kick the covers off when you sleep tonight,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
I turned and walked away, my vision blurring as I left the wedding reception.
My suitcase bulged as I finished packing. But there were so many things I’d have to leave behind.
I took one last look at our bedroom. My stomach twisted as I wondered if Damien and Vanessa ever made love in our bed. If they hadn’t, they probably would now.
I slammed the door shut and dragged my suitcase downstairs.
My fingers trembled as I opened a little black box. The ring inside was the one I had been dreaming of for five years.
I would never get to wear it.
I left the ring on the coffee table, next to the divorce agreement I had printed and signed as soon as I got home. Damien would find them without a problem.
Leaving the living room, I dug my phone out of my bag.
6 missed calls from mom
Shit. I immediately called her back. She must have been frantic.
“Celeste, dear, what’s happening? Vanessa told the guests the wedding was off.”
The concern in her voice finally unleashed my tears.
“Mom, I’m so sorry. I should’ve listened to you when you warned me about Damien. I was so blind. So stupid.” My throat burned as I forced the words out. “I’m d-divorcing Damien. He’s having an affair, mom.”
The line was quiet for a moment.
“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”
The gentle kindness of her voice sent me into a sobbing fit. I wasn’t completely alone. My mother was still there for me.
“Don’t cry. It’s not your fault, you hear me?” She sounded stern.
I could only nod as I tried to calm down.
“I’m going to find that good-for-nothing bastard and make him regret the day he hurt my baby.”
The gung-ho determination in her voice actually made me laugh through the tears.
“It’s fine, mom. I’ve already signed the divorce papers and I’m leaving the house now.”
“Good. I’m proud of you, Celeste. You call me if you need anything at all, okay?”
I smiled, feeling a little less hopeless.
“Thanks, mom.”
I hung up and dried my face. If my family didn’t want me to be their wife or mother, then I would be myself. I had sacrificed everything for them, and they took it for granted.
It was time I rediscovered who I was.
With my suitcase in hand, I left my home of five years and I didn’t look back.
Vanessa’s POVThe moment I stepped out of the executive elevator and into the marble corridor of Crown Luxe, I felt like the building itself bowed to me.My heels clicked with slow, purposeful rhythm, queenly, even if my ankles protested under the weight of my pregnancy.A few weeks left until delivery, and yet no one dared suggest I rest. Why would they? Queens don’t take sick leave.Melissa hurried behind me, carrying the embossed folder pressed to her chest like sacred scripture.“Stop fussing,” I murmured without looking back.“Y-yes, Ms. Abrams.”She always squeaks when she’s nervous. Pathetic. But useful.Outside Maximilian’s office, I smoothed my hair, adjusted the soft fall of my maternity dress, and allowed the smallest, sweetest smile to curve my lips. This part mattered. The performance.Maximilian Edwards valued power, but he valued obedience even more.I knocked precisely once then entered.Maximilian was behind his desk, skimming through reports with that predatory calm h
Ryan’s POVThe elevator ride to the top floor felt longer than it should have.Crown Luxe always had a weird effect on me, like the walls themselves were judging me for ever daring to walk out of them.Mr. Davis stood beside me, hands folded neatly behind his back, posture flawless as always. But there was something different about him now. A looseness, king of a quiet defiance.And he had chosen me.When the doors opened, the receptionist stiffened slightly at the sight of the two of us together. Word traveled fast in this building. Suspicion traveled even faster.My father’s office door was open when we approached, which was already unusual. My father hated openness. Anything ajar was an opportunity for someone to listen.He looked up from his desk the second we stepped inside.His eyes went straight to Mr. Davis.“Why are you with him,” he said sharply, “instead of waiting where you were instructed?”I didn’t give Mr. Davis a chance to answer. He had already risked enough.“He’s wit
Celeste’s POVI should’ve been with Celeste.Every bone in my body told me to stay, to sit outside her office door if that’s what it took, to be there when the weight finally crushed her and she needed someone to lean on.But Aurora didn’t care about timing. Aurora didn’t care that Jenny had just handed Celeste her resignation with shaking hands and tear-stained cheeks. Aurora didn’t care that Celeste had collapsed into her chair like someone had torn the ground out from under her.Aurora needed me. And Aurora couldn’t wait.So I found myself in my own office space that I had bought anonymously so that no one could trace me here.My sleeves were rolled up, phone on speaker, laptop open to encrypted files Steven had forwarded at dawn.His voice crackled through the line, quiet and tense. “We can’t afford delays, Ryan. We signed a three-week exclusivity contract with the Antwerp workshop. If we don’t send the US distribution roadmap, we lose them.”“I know,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes.
Celeste’s POVMorning light hadn’t even settled properly over the city when I pulled up outside Molly’s art studio.She was humming in the backseat, swinging her little legs, blissfully unaware of the storm twisting my insides into knots.“Are we early?” she asked as I unbuckled her seatbelt.“Just a little,” I said, forcing a smile.Honestly, I was stalling. I wasn’t ready to cross the street yet, not ready to step back into Rosemary where Jenny’s hollow eyes and trembling hands still haunted every quiet moment.Molly slipped her hand into mine as we walked toward the entrance.Her fingers were warm, soft, grounding. When we reached the door, she tugged on my sleeve.“Aunt Celeste?”“Yes, sweetheart?”“Why are you looking at your building like it hurt you?”I froze.Across the street, Rosemary Atelier stood tall and polished, the morning sun reflecting off the windows.“I’m… just thinking,” I said carefully.“Is someone in trouble?” she whispered, eyes wide. “Like big trouble-trouble?
Celeste’s POVI didn’t realize how quiet the atelier had become until the door to the room clicked shut behind everyone.The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful, it felt suffocating, a cold hand clamped around my throat.The meeting was over, but the echoes of it stayed.Jenny’s sobs.Her voice cracking when she swore she hadn’t done anything.The way she looked at me as if I’d personally pushed her off a cliff.And I let her fall.Because I chose to believe evidence that felt wrong instead of trusting what I knew about her.I pressed my palms into the table, bowing my head. My reflection stared back from the polished surface with eyes too wide, too hollow, too ashamed.What the hell was I doing?For the past week, I had told myself I was being a responsible leader. Objective. Fair.But my chest felt bruised.A girl who adored me, who worshipped Rosemary, was breaking and I couldn’t do anything about it.I felt helpless.A soft knock came at the door, making me flinch.It was Jenny.
Celeste’s POVIt had been a week.Seven days of pretending nothing was wrong while the ground under my feet kept shifting.Every morning at Rosemary felt a little heavier, a little tighter around the ribs.More discrepancies appeared, missing fabric rolls, duplicated purchase orders, login timestamps no one could explain.Ryan and I had spent two nights replaying CCTV footage until our eyes blurred, pausing every time a shadow crossed the workshop doorway.The footage wasn’t incriminating enough to be conclusive… but paired with everything else, it painted a picture I didn’t want to look at.Jenny didn’t know. She bounced into work every day with the same bright energy, humming as she tied her apron, chattering to Rachel about enamel techniques.Every time she laughed, guilt twisted deeper into my chest.Then we found the USB, loaded with evidence of designs that weren’t supposed to be on anyone’s system but the company’s.It was found in Jenny’s drawer by Grace.It was all too much.I







