CHAPTER 2

Cassandra’s POV

I pressed the phone tighter against my ear. “Hello? Who is this? Where’s Marcus?”

Silence.

Then, just as abruptly as it came, the call ended.

I stood there, phone still pressed to my ear, my thoughts spiraling. It was so late — how could a woman be the one answering his phone? His assistant was clearly a man.

Before I could dwell on it any longer, the sound of liquid splashing snapped me back to reality.

Ava stood by the dining table, her small hands gripping the now-empty glass as the last of the milk trickled into the sink.

“Ava!” My voice came out sharper than I intended.

She flinched, then scrunched her nose in frustration. “I don’t want milk!” Ava shouted, her arms crossed tightly.

I exhaled slowly, walking over to clean up the mess. “Ava, if you don’t like milk, you should have told me instead of wasting it.”

She huffed, not even looking at me. “But Violet said I don’t have to drink anything I don’t want. She said I don’t have to do anything I don’t like!”

My fingers froze, the cloth in my hand suddenly feeling heavy. “Violet said that?”

“Yeah! She says I don’t have to listen to you. You always make me do stuff I hate!” Ava’s words filled with stubbornness.

I felt a cold weight settle in my chest, a mix of disbelief and hurt. “Ava, that’s not true. I just want what’s best for you.”

“Best for me?!” Ava rolled her eyes. “You always make me eat things I don’t like, wear things I don’t want. I don’t care about your ‘best for me’!”

Her words hit me like a slap, and she continued, “I wish Violet was my mom. She’s way nicer than you. At least she lets me do what I want!”

I stood frozen, every word like a dagger. It was hard to breathe through the tightness in my throat. How had I become the villain in my own daughter’s eyes?

I couldn’t sleep for a long time that night, Ava’s words kept coming back to me.

It wasn’t until I went to work the next day that the words were temporarily erased from my mind.

The next morning, I arrived at the office. The polished floors and sleek glass walls reflected the powerful empire Marcus had built, where I was nothing more than a shadow, blending into the background.

No one here knew that I was Mrs. Cole.

To them, I was just Cassandra—the quiet, diligent secretary.

Our marriage had been arranged by his grandfather, a man who had taken me in after my own grandfather passed away.

I had barely graduated college when Marcus and I wed, my heart foolishly clinging to the hope that he would one day love me.

Instead, he treated me like a duty to be fulfilled, a role to be played in the grand scheme of his family’s legacy.

I had always dreamed of becoming a designer. But when Marcus offered me a position as his secretary, I took it without hesitation.

Because I liked him. Because I thought that being close to him would be enough.

I had been so naive.

A burst of hushed voices near the break room snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Did you hear? The new head of design is starting today.”

“Oh, you mean Violet?” Someone giggled. “I heard she’s very close to Mr. Cole.”

My grip on the files tightened.

Violet.

I forced myself to keep walking, to keep moving, to keep breathing. But as I rounded the corner, I caught sight of them.

Marcus walked ahead, his posture relaxed and commanding, while Violet strolled beside him, a confident smile playing on her lips.

They were deep in conversation, laughing as they made their way through the lobby.

I tried to look away, but at that time, I overheard snippets of the conversation drifting through the air.

“She’s one of the most promising architects in the industry,” Marcus said smoothly, his voice full of warmth. “Graduated with honors from The Windsor Institute of Fine Arts, the best art school in London. We’re lucky to have her.”

A polite round of applause followed, and Violet’s smile widened as if she belonged here.

I watched the scene unfold, a familiar ache settling in my chest.

When I first started working here, Marcus hadn’t cared to introduce me to anyone.

He hadn’t praised me, hadn’t guided me, hadn’t even acknowledged me beyond the role of his secretary.

“I don’t understand how someone like her ended up here,” I heard one of my colleagues whisper. “No family, no credentials... just Marcus’s secretary, right?”

Another voice added, “She doesn’t even seem like she fits in with the rest of us.”

The coldness of their words cut through me like a blade, and I wanted to disappear.

Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me.

I turned slightly, only to see Marcus standing in the doorway, casually observing the scene. I thought he must have heard them talking about me, but he didn’t even look my way.

Instead, his attention was fully on Violet, smiling and talking as if nothing was wrong.

My chest tightened. Could it be that he really wants to rekindle things with Violet?

“Cassandra, coffee!”

I busied myself preparing coffee, keeping my hands steady despite the turmoil swirling inside me.

Taking a steadying breath, I carried the tray back to the conference room. The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear Marcus’s deep voice inside.

As I set the tray down on the table, Violet’s gaze flicked up to me, and for a moment, something unreadable passed through her eyes.

Then, as if remembering something, her lips curved into a polite smile. “Hello?” she said smoothly.

“You’re Cassandra, Ava’s mom… right?”

I stiffened. The sound of her voice—it was unmistakable. The voice from last night.

She was the one who answered Marcus’s phone. Thinking about that, the pain inside me made it impossible to force a smile.

I barely had time to pretend it before Marcus’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“That’ll be all, Cassandra. We need to discuss work.”

Again. He always kept me out of his world. No matter how hard I tried, it felt like I never got any closer to him.

Swallowed by disappointment and hurt, I nodded silently and walked away.

That evening, as I stepped through the door of my home, exhaustion weighed heavily on me.

I had expected Ava to be asleep by now, but as I passed by her room, a soft glow seeped from beneath the door.

Frowning, I pushed it open gently. Ava was curled up on her bed, phone in hand, her little fingers tapping quickly on the screen.

“Ava,” I said, my voice soft but firm as I stepped into the room. “It’s late. Why are you still awake?”

She barely glanced up, her eyes still glued to her phone. “I’m talking to Violet. Don’t interrupt.”

The words struck me, a painful reminder of the distance between us. I took a breath, trying to keep my composure.

“Sweetheart, it’s really late. You should get some sleep. You can talk to Violet tomorrow.”

Ava rolled her eyes, then replied without patience. “Ugh, you always say that. You don’t get it. Violet actually listens to me. Talking to her is a lot more fun than talking to you.”