LOGIN"You are just a golden cage ornament, Celestine. Two years. No touch, no real feelings, and never enter my room. I bought your freedom, so you owe me your life." To save her sick father from a lifetime behind bars, Celestine Aragon commits the ultimate sacrifice: she sells her freedom to Cyrus Valdemor—the ruthless, cold-hearted billionaire CEO who rules the city's corporate empire with an iron fist. The rules of their marriage contract were simple, practical, and completely devoid of warmth: Maintain a flawless public image, smile for the cameras, and remain absolute strangers behind closed doors. Celestine expects a lonely prison, but she doesn’t expect the strange, suffocating tension that ignites every time Cyrus is near. Nor does she expect the fierce, alpha protectiveness he unleashes whenever the world tries to tear her down. But one forbidden, alcohol-fueled night in his private library shatters all their rules. A dangerous passion breaks through Cyrus’s icy defense, leaving them breathless and bound by a desire neither can deny. Just as the lines between their fake marriage and real feelings begin to blur, a dark secret from the past comes to light. Cyrus discovers that Celestine's family is tied to the tragic accident that killed his parents decades ago. Stricken by guilt and targeted by his sudden, icy hatred, Celestine is cruelly cast out into the freezing rain—shattered, helpless, and carrying a secret of her own. She is pregnant with the billionaire's heir. When the truth finally unravels and the ruthless CEO realizes he banished the only woman he ever loved, will it be too late? Can a marriage built on vengeance and secrets survive the ultimate betrayal?
View MoreJOHN'S POV
The loud shaking of the large cell gates woke me from my slumber as I squeezed my eyes to catch a glimpse of the intruder. A tall lanky man dressed in black dragged me by the collar of my prison wear from my bug infested bed to the Chief Warden's office. A sense of awareness stuck in my throat. What have I done this time?
I came face to face with the man that once ushered me into this large iron bars.
"You have been in a different world for the past seven years. You have now known what it means to live behind the iron gate. None of my assistants knew you before you were brought in here. The law brought you in. It is hoped that you will go out there into the real world and settle down to a normal life that will keep you out of trouble." He said sternly.
"Yes sir, I've learnt a lot here, I promise to be a good citizen when I get back home. Thank you." I replied.
I responded in that way in order to sound pleasant and polite. As far as I knew, no inmate was taught any trade or any lessons on morality throughout my stay, they were always blaming their irresponsibility on poor funding.
As I turned the knob, he cleared his throat once more.
"John, lest I forget, have this." He threw a five hundred naira note on the dusty floor, I wasn't even begging for it. But I had no choice , I stooped low to catch it before the air and I swore I heard him laugh. The thought of punching his voluptuous stomach chilled my spines. Should a Chief Warden be unnecessary robust?
After returning the pair of shoes, clothes and a Nokia phone which was already smashed, an officer gave me some papers to sign at the counter. A space in the boxes on one of the papers specified for the present date and I looked up to search for any calendars being stuck on the regular yellow and blue wall.
The date sounded familiar to me as I fiddled with the pen resting between two fingers. The realization kept me thinking until I started laughing and banging the counter simultaneously. It caused a few pair of eyes to check if my sanity was intact.
"It's my birthday." I said still laughing.
"Fill the form and get out!" The officer in front of me said, chewing her gum loudly.
I grudgingly filled the form, a few minutes later, I regained my freedom.
Like a fowl just released from its cage, I strode along the road. It was familiar and yet unfamiliar. Seven years behind bars might have changed the country a lot.
But I knew my destination, how could I forget?
Home.
Like a robot, I moved from one corner of the city to another trekking like a person on an urgent business, I couldn't talk to anyone. My bushy hair did not help the situation.
The city of Lagos was bustling with work, cars filled the roads like ants. It was hard finding a bus , I opted for a bike instead. On boarding the bike popularly known as Okada, I begged the Okada rider not to over speed as that was their trademark. Children and women were seen holding wares at every speeding car. That hasn't changed still, I enjoyed the feel of my buttocks on the seat and the wind on my face was enjoyable.
A drop of water settled at the middle of my head and I reached to pat it dry, unknown to me, it was the just the beginning and soon enough the rain came pouring down. The Okada driver had an extra helmet resting at the front of the bike and still didn't want to share. I hissed inwardly. Perhaps I would pay if I asked. I used my hands as a temporary shield from the rain throughout the journey.
When I had reached my destination, the rain was already reduced to mild drizzling. I thanked the Okada rider for his ironic hospitality and he zoomed off without a response.
Home was the final version of complete change. The once bright yellow walls surrounding the house was now dirty and unappealing. I walked, hands in my trousers and heart pounding.
When I was absent, I was still a boy but now I am a man.
How will Mama react on seeing me?
I was greeted by a sharp smell of ogbono soup. That was my twin brother's favorite soup. The wooden door that once shielded mosquitoes was now rickety and weak. Flies buzzing in and out as I mentally slapped myself. The kitchen was extremely tiny as it consisted of two large gas cylinders and four large pots. But what I almost failed to notice was mama, happily singing to a Christian hymn while cutting vegetable leaves on a black chopping board. I cleared my throat which startled her and caused the knife in her hands to drop noisily on the bare ceramic ground.
"John, why are you here?" She said putting her hands on her chest to steady her breathing.
That question had a thousand answers to me. It shattered my heart into a thousand pieces. My head kept spinning with different comprehension and therefore I put my pride before emotions.
I turned back smiling and headed for the living room and she followed curiously, not understanding my motive.
My eyes caught a portrait that smelt new and delightful. It was a picture of my twin brother, James wearing his judge outfit. I looked at the other pictures, I wasn't there. It crushed my heart that there were no pictures of me. I was like a black sheep being treated as a wolf.
"John, I said what are you...." She said folding her arms around her chest.
I interrupted her while taking a seat on the large table facing the black and white television.
"Do you remember my second day in prison, you came not with food but with a paper that crushed a part of my endless love for you. You came with a form to push me out of the family register, and you even pushed a pen into my shaking hands. Did you ever think of how I felt that night? I felt lonely. I felt like nobody. You never came after. You never loved me. It was always James. Even if he did something wrong, you would still blame me."
I continued as she lowered herself on a couch adjacent me.
"The day I was sentenced by the court was the same day James entered law school. Isn't that ironic? I defended someone and I ended up being hurt." I said with finality trying to hold back sobs.
"I didn't tell you to kill someone." She said pushing her arms forward and demonstrating it by clapping in annoyance.
That sentence made the fire in my mouth that I vowed not to ignite come back to bring heat in my folded hands.
"If I didn't fight for James, wouldn't it be the same case Mary?" I said standing up.
My mother also stood up in anger and moved close to me. As much as I was scared, I had a full box of bravery mixed with bitterness.
"What did you just say John, you called me by my first name? I, your mother" She said gripping my hands.
I laughed and stood a step backward.
"Don't tell me you have forgotten so soon that you disowned me, are you trying to mock me?"
"As much as I know, you aren't my mother and I am not your son. You made that very clear. So, let's call a spade a spade and drop the respect.
And I hissed and turned toward the door.
"Where are you going? Don't tell me you are going to see James. Don't go to him. Don't ruin his reputation." She said sternly.
That statement caught me off-guard and it also made my anger to swell like garri dipped inside cold water.
And I turned back and grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her on a nearby couch which caused her to whimper in pain.
"Everything is always James; did you ever think for once about me and that's a good idea. Let me go to my great brother and see if he can save me from my misery. " I said whispering amidst shaking sobs.
She didn't move. She simply watched me like I was acting a drama. I was already bored of everything. I only needed her to say one word and it felt so hard to her. Looking at her one last time. I gnashed my teeth and bit my upper lip. I bowed my head one last time while reaching for the door at the same time.
"Goodbye Mary"
Happy birthday to me.
CELESTINE POV The word "pregnant" seemed to hang in the sterile air, heavy and loud, drowning out the constant beeping of the heart monitor. My hand remained frozen against my stomach. Five weeks. My mind raced back to the dimly lit library, the scent of expensive whiskey, and the fierce, desperate way Cyrus had held me against the leather sofa before pushing me away. He had told me to pretend it never happened. But the proof was here, growing quietly inside me while the rest of my life burned to the ground. "Doctor," Julian’s voice broke the silence, sharp and rigid. He stood up from the edge of the bed, his fists clenched at his sides. "Are you absolutely sure about the lab results? There's no mistake?" Dr. Ramirez looked between the two of us, picking up on the sudden, suffocating tension in the small cubicle. "The HCG levels in her blood are definitive, sir. There’s no mistake. Right now, her body is in a state of shock, and that poses an immediate risk to the fetus. I’m presc
CELESTINE POV The harsh, artificial glare of fluorescent lights stabbed at my eyelids. I groaned, a bitter taste rising in my throat as the world slowly tilted back into focus. The rhythmic, mechanical beeping of a heart monitor echoed in my ears, accompanied by the sharp, sterile smell of antiseptic. I wasn’t on the wet driveway anymore. "Celestine? Hey, stay still. Don't try to get up yet." A firm, warm hand gently pressed against my shoulder, keeping me anchored to the stiff hospital bed. I blinked away the haze, my gaze landing on Julian Vance. His tailored suit jacket was missing, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his usually neat hair was completely disheveled. Deep lines of worry were etched around his eyes. "Julian?" My voice was a dry, painful rasp. I tried to swallow, but my throat felt like sandpaper. "Where... how did I get here?" "One of Valdemor’s perimeter security guards found you collapsed near the main gate," Julian explained softly, re
CELESTINE POV For three whole days, Cyrus became a ghost in his own home. He left for the office before the sun came up and didn't return until well past midnight. Whenever our paths crossed in the hallways, he look right through me, his face blanker and colder than ever. The intense, reckless passion we shared on the library sofa felt like a vivid dream, deliberately buried under a mountain of heavy silence. I sat in the morning room, staring blankly at a cup of tea, when my phone vibrated aggressively on the table. Seeing the name on the screen, my breath hitched. It was St. Jude’s Hospital. "Hello? Is this Ms. Celestine Aragon?" a frantic voice asked the moment I pressed answer. "Yes, speaking. What's wrong?" I stood up, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Your grandmother, Elena Aragon, had a severe cardiac arrest twenty minutes ago," the nurse explained, her voice tight with professional urgency. "We managed to stabilize her, but she needs immediate emergency surge
CELESTINE POV The drive back to the mansion was suffocating. Cyrus sat on the other side of the leather seat, staring out into the dark night, his jaw clenched tight. He hadn't said a single word since we left the gala. The protective alpha who had just threatened to ruin my stepmother had completely vanished, replaced by the icy stranger I married. Once we stepped inside the quiet house, Cyrus immediately walked toward his private library. The adrenaline from the party and the glasses of wine I drank made my chest swell with unvoiced feelings. "Cyrus, wait," I called out, following him through the heavy double doors. The library was dimly lit, smelling of old leather and rich mahogany. Cyrus unbuttoned his suit jacket and tossed it onto an armchair. He finally turned around, looking tired, but his eyes were still alert and guarded. "What is it, Celestine?" he asked, his voice low and exhausted. "I just... I wanted to say thank you," I said, stepping closer to him, my heels sink
CELESTINE POV The emerald-green silk gown fitted me like a second skin, draped perfectly over my curves. I stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the delicate diamond necklace the stylist had picked out. To anyone else, I looked like a radiant, wealthy newborn bride. Only I could see
CELESTINE POV The morning sun cut through the sheer curtains of the massive bedroom, hitting my eyes. I blinked against the harsh light, a dull ache throbbing behind my temples. For a second, I forgot where I was. Then my gaze landed on the heavy, silver-embossed pen resting on the nightstand next
CELESTINE POV The heavy silk of my wedding dress felt like a lead weight pressing down on my chest. I sat stiffly on the edge of the king-sized bed, the silence of the massive bedroom echoing the emptiness in my chest. There were no flowers here. No warmth. Just sleek, modern lines of black marble






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