On the night of her highly anticipated jewel launch, Eloise's world shatters when her husband Lucian publicly divorces her on national TV, rekindling his relationship with his ex-lover Jennifer, who is also Eloise's step-sister. As Eloise picks up the pieces, she meets a new man, who happns to be her boss, and sparks fly. Just as she begins to find success and happiness again, Lucian comes crawling back, desperate to reclaim what he lost.
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I settled on the coach, reaching for the television remote. Today was Lucian's big day and and the event was broadcasted. This silly illness had prevented me from accompanying him but I didn't care. "Tonight, the world will see my vision." I smiled, feeling the pride in my chest. The Live broadcast finally began, the spotlight settled on Lucian, as he made his way to the stage, looking impeccably polished in his tailored suit. I had never felt so proud, i couldn't help but smile and settled deeper in the cushion. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight. I’m thrilled to announce the launch of our latest collection—a collection crafted with love, passion, and elegance” He said, his deep steady voice echoed through the speakers. My heart fluttered at “Our” collection, i repeated in my mind. “I’ve been fortunate to work with someone special on this project, someone whose talent and dedication have brought this vision to life” Lucian said, his gaze sweeping over the crowd as he spoke. I held my breath, my pulse quickening with pride and excitement. I could practically feel my name on his lips. “It is my honor to introduce the genius behind this collection…” Lucian paused, then smiled. The camera zoomed in as he extended a hand, gesturing off-stage. My smile widened. The camera zoomed back to the crowd and a figure emerged the stage, it was Jennifer, Lucian’s ex lover and also my step-sister appeared on the screen. My breath caught in my throat, and from that moment my world began to spin. She stepped into the spotlight, gliding toward Lucian as if she belonged there— as if she had any right to stand on that stage, wearing a dazzling gown that sparkled beneath the lights. Jewels dripping from her neck and ears. Jewels i had designed. “What!…?” I exclaimed,my voice barely a breath. He turned to Jennifer,his eyes beaming, his arm slipping around her waist with a casual intimacy that made my stomach twist. The way he looked down at her with a softness, a warmth that i haven't seen in his eyes for a while now. “Jennifer has been an inspiration to me, both personally and professionally,” he said, his voice laced with admiration. “I couldn’t imagine anyone more fitting to lead this project with me” He continued. I felt my chest tighten, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. This can't be happening. It can’t be! My marriage with Lucian shouldn't have happened, it was a marriage i accepted for my selfish reasons, my childhood crush came asking for my hand marriage and I couldn't miss that opportunity. I thought after this years with the child we bore together that our love must've awaken but it didn't. I was just loving a man that would never love me, a man that was never mine to began with, a marriage i could've rejected and discarded my selfish feelings. The crowd applauded, their faces lit with admiration and awe. People were clapping for Jennifer. Jennifer knew nothing about jewellery designs but would she want to miss the opportunity to bask in my glory? Never. The woman who had barely even been part of my life, who despised and spited me whenever she pleased. My childhood with Jennifer was hell, she and her mother took turns tormenting my life. “Tonight is not just a launch of our new project. It’s the start of a new chapter.” He paused, turning to Jennifer, his eyes full of disturbingly tender look. “A new chapter for us, and for our future together.” The crowd gasped. Tears streamed uncontrollably from my cheeks, the bethrayal stinging more than I cared to admit. “No!…” I whispered, horror creeping into my voice as the realization hit me. “It’s true,” He continued, his tone smooth and practiced, as if he was reading from a script. “Jennifer and i have rekindled our relationship we never had to let go of, and in light of that…” My heart pounded so loud i could barely hear his next words. “…I am announcing my separation from Eloise.” He announced. The word echoed, causing the tears i had steadied to start streaming again. Separation?” He was ending our marriage—on live television? What more better way to humiliate me than this? I sat frozen, watching as the camera captured Jennifer’s coy smile, she leaned into him with a sense of possession and victory. She won, He was her man to begin with, if not for what happened years ago I wouldn't be in this mess, I wouldn't be so humiliated for everyone to see. I couldn't process the humiliation and shock playing before me. My past decision was now daunting on me. A decision i made thinking it was my escape to peace. Lucian was my peace, a place I felt safe. Trembling, I pressed my hand against my mouth, as if to keep myself from screaming. I wanted to scream but my voice felt hollow and dry. I could feel my chest pounding, a deep pulsing wound that threatened to tear me apart. This was supposed to be my night, i thought, disbelief mingling with the agony tearing through me. Maybe I shouldn't have fall sick. He….. he promised. Lucian promised to change, he reassured me, but foolish me never knew it was all pretence, he never left Jennifer not even for once. “To new beginnings,” he said, his voice filled with conviction and worse was satisfaction. The live feed cut back to Lucian, who raised his glass in a toast. He clinked glasses with Jennifer, sealing the moment. The paparazzi swarmed in around them, taking pictures and they smiled at them. I couldn’t move, i couldn’t tear my gaze away from the screen as the man i trusted and loved for so long casually discarded me, stripping away everything i thought we had. My mind spun, a rush of cold sweat appeared on my forehead. The sacrifices, seven years wasted, the trust, every ounce of loyalty i had given him—it was all crushed underfoot like it had meant nothing. What was I expecting? Does a man really forget they first love ever? The camera zoomed in on Lucian and Jennifer one last time before the feed cut out. The screen went dark just like how my world went blank. My legs gave up and I crumbled on the floor. Suddenly, I felt a light grip on my dress. I turned immediately—it was Max, my Son. His eyes were wide with fear. "Mom, are you okay?" He asked, his voice barely audible.JenniferMy thumb hovered over the screen, refreshing Eloise’s Instagram page for what felt like the thousandth time today. Every refresh brought a new wave of bile rising up my throat.“Eloise Sinclair stuns the industry with emotional Ironheart collection.”“A mother’s heartbreak turned into sculptural brilliance.”“Upcoming face of resilience and feminist expression.”I threw my phone across the marble kitchen counter. It skidded and slammed into the ceramic vase at the edge. The vase wobbled but didn’t fall. I clenched my jaw in irritation.“Lucky bitch,” I hissed under my breath.The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my apartment, catching on the polished surfaces and pristine designer furniture. The place felt colder lately. I padded across the glossy tiles in my silk robe and picked up my phone. A hairline crack now split across the corner of the screen. Great. Another small thing to fix.Just like Eloise. Another stain to scrub from my future.My ph
Mike The gallery was almost empty now. Assistants packed up folding chairs and rolled away racks of spare lighting. The scattered guests who remained lingered in clusters near the exits, soft murmurs drifting across polished concrete floors. But all I saw was Eloise. She stood near the centre plinth, her slender shoulders squared despite her visible exhaustion. Her hair, pinned back elegantly earlier, now curled in wild wisps around her flushed face. She was laughing softly at something Damon said, her eyes crinkling with a brightness I hadn’t seen in months. My chest burned. I shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the knot of my tie. It felt too tight, choking me even as I loosened it slightly. The tailored navy suit I wore, usually a shield of quiet power in my consulting meetings, felt like cheap theatre here. Because Damon stood in front of her in his black turtleneck, he owned the entire gallery space – no, like he belonged in it. His posture was casual but confident, hands tuck
Eloise The gallery lights cast a muted gold across the white walls, each display plinth glowing like a moonlit altar. I stood near the entrance, my palms damp, watching as buyers, stylists, and press filtered in with hushed admiration. Their voices hummed around me – snippets of praise, curious questions, reverent silence when their gazes fell on each piece. My pieces. Each sculptural work sat in minimalist isolation under glass domes or mounted on clear acrylic stands. Rough-brushed silver twisted around molten gold in jagged cuffs and layered chokers. Bronze interlaced with black rhodium in raw, brutal earrings shaped like shattered wings. At the centre of the gallery, a heavy breastplate necklace dominated its plinth – wide hammered silver segments inspired by Max’s drawing of an iron-clad superhero chest. I breathed in deeply, the crisp scent of white lilies from the arrangements at each corner grounding me. Around me, candle sconces flickered against the exposed concrete beam
Eloise The soft glow of dawn pooled into my atelier, pale gold flooding across polished floors and illuminating sketches pinned on every wall. My fingers trembled as I adjusted the clasp on one of the velvet display busts, fastening a brushed silver collar necklace into place. Each link gleamed, elegant and cold, reflecting the emptiness I felt within. Today was launch day. My rebranding day. A quiet, private unveiling of my new line under my reimagined name – Eloise V. Designs. It was like a testing name, not sure I will be using it. The anxiety in my chest refused to settle. My reflection in the atelier’s tall glass windows showed a woman in a cream satin blouse, hair brushed sleekly back, eyes rimmed with dark circles. I pinched my cheeks to bring colour into them, forcing a shaky breath. Behind me, the glass door creaked. I didn’t turn. The scent of Mike’s cologne drifted in first, clean cedar and faint citrus. I heard his hesitant footsteps pause just beyond the jeweller
Lucian I sank into the plush leather armchair by my office window, swirling the remaining amber liquid in my glass. The scotch glowed under the early dusk light, casting honeyed reflections across the Italian marble floor. Outside, the city skyline rose in jagged steel silhouettes, bathed in blood-orange sunset. But none of its beauty reached me today. My phone buzzed atop the glass table, rattling slightly against the crystal decanter. I ignored it at first, staring blankly at the shifting horizon. When it buzzed again, insistent, I snatched it up with an irritated sigh. “Speak,” I snapped. “It’s Julian from Ristov PR,” came the crisp voice. “Apologies for the late update, sir, but I thought you’d want to know immediately. There’s talk spreading through the upper design circles today.” I felt a familiar tightening in my chest, an ancient predatory tension. “What talk.” “It appears Damon Grey has been showing… unusual interest in Eloise Sinclair’s upcoming collection,” Julian co
Damon I stepped out of my black Jaguar, the engine purring into silence as I pulled the key fob from the ignition. The crisp air hit my face, sharp and biting, carrying the faint scent of croissant from the vendor down the street. Eloise’s atelier sat nestled between a pottery studio and a minimalist flower shop, its matte milk facade different against the row of sandstone townhouses. I adjusted the cuffs of my burgundy coat, brushing a stray lint off my lapel, and headed towards her door. Through the glass panel, I caught a glimpse of her silhouette, hunched over her drafting table, pencil moving in quick, desperate strokes. Even from here, she looked frayed around the edges—like threads pulled tight. I knocked softly before entering. A faint chime rang overhead as I stepped inside. The warmth of the atelier enveloped me, scented with sandalwood candles and the faint mineral tang of copper filings. Eloise didn’t look up at first. Her pencil paused mid-line as she sensed me, then
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