LOGIN Roxanne Ally McBeal never imagined her life would fall apart so quickly. After a year of marriage to Archiver Mathew Montenegro—the enigmatic CEO of Montenegro Inc.—she suddenly found herself signing divorce papers without a single explanation. Heartbroken and blindsided, she ran away, desperate to heal the wounds he left behind. But fate has a cruel sense of humor. Years later, Roxanne returns to the Philippines for a major project assigned by her boss. She thought she was finally ready—stronger, steadier, over him. Until she saw Arch again. The man she tried so hard to forget now stands in front of her with a request she never expected: pretend to be his wife. His grandmother, whom Roxanne deeply cares for, never knew about their separation—and with her worsening condition, Arch is determined to keep the truth from her. Roxanne wants to say no. She should say no. But for his grandmother, she can’t walk away. Now she’s back in the very place where her heart first shattered, living under the same roof as the man who broke it. Every stolen glance, every accidental touch, every unspoken memory threatens to pull her back to a love she’s terrified to feel again. How long can Roxanne play the role of Arch’s wife before the act becomes real? What happens when old feelings return stronger than before? And if she falls for him again—can she survive another heartbreak? One thing is certain: pretending has never been this dangerous.
View MoreThe morning sun cut through the penthouse windows in sharp gold blades, catching dust motes dancing over the marble floors like tiny galaxies. Roxanne sat at the kitchen island, fingers wrapped around a mug of black coffee, watching Arch pace the length of his living room like a caged lion.It had been three days since Victor Hale’s arrest. Three days of police interviews, board meetings that ran until dawn, and news cycles that chewed up Montenegro Inc. like it was yesterday’s trash. CEO’S SCANDALOUS AFFAIR WITH TOP ENGINEER blared one headline. SABOTAGE PLOT EXPOSES CORPORATE BETRAYAL screamed another.Arch paused by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline—his skyline, dotted with cranes and half-finished towers that now felt like targets. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it more tousled than usual. The cut on his temple was healing, but the bruise around his eye was still a deep purple.“You should eat something,” Roxanne said, pushing a plate of scrambled
Roxanne McBeal had always trusted numbers more than people. Steel beams, stress ratios, torque limits—those were predictable. Human motives were not.That was why the anonymous message burning on her phone screen made her blood go cold.Stay away from him.She slipped the device into her pocket, fingers trembling as the words replayed in her mind. Around her, the construction site roared back to life after the near-catastrophe—sirens wailed, radios crackled, and boots crunched across concrete and shattered steel. But all Roxanne could hear was the echo of Arch Montenegro’s voice from moments earlier, the intensity of his kiss still alive on her lips like a memory she couldn’t erase.That kiss should never have happened.Arch was the CEO of Montenegro Developments—billionaire, visionary, and her direct superior. She was the firm’s lead structural engineer, brought in for her brilliance, not her heart. But when the inspection beam failed and sent debris raining down like a storm of kniv
Roxanne McBeal gripped the steering wheel of her SUV as she navigated the predawn streets toward the Montenegro Inc. construction site. The clock on the dashboard glowed 5:15 AM, and the chill seeping through the vents clawed at her skin despite the heater blasting on high. She'd barely slept, her mind replaying yesterday's charged encounter with Arch Montenegro;the way his piercing blue eyes had held hers a fraction too long during the project review meeting, the subtle brush of his fingers against hers when passing a blueprint. Routine inspection, she repeated like a mantra. Just verify the foundation pours before the crew clocks in. But her pulse thrummed in her ears, betraying the lie. This wasn't routine. Not with him.The site sprawled on the outskirts of the city, a colossal beast of progress amid the foggy industrial sprawl. Chain-link fences topped with razor wire encircled the perimeter, fluttering with faded warning signs that whipped in the wind. Floodl
Roxanne arrived at the Montenegro Inc. headquarters earlier than usual, a mixture of nerves and anticipation twisting her stomach. The office smelled faintly of coffee and polished wood;comforting and familiar, yet charged with something else today. Something she couldn’t name. She straightened her blazer and smoothed her skirt, telling herself again and again: it’s just business. Nothing else matters. She passed the glass-walled boardroom and paused. Inside, the table was already set for the day’s meeting. Laptops hummed quietly. Notepads were open. Coffee cups lined the edge like sentries waiting for orders. And at the head of the table, naturally, was Arch. He didn’t look up immediately, too engrossed in the papers in front of him. But the moment he sensed her presence, his head lifted, and their eyes met. That familiar pull hit her chest. The same pull from the site visit. The almost-kiss. The brush of his thumb on her wrist. The heat that refuse












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