LOGINSeveral days went past without any news on a signed divorce filing. Sophie found herself waking up later and later in the day. She consulted her doctor and received only words that it was normal during early stages of pregnancy.As if complicit in that diagnosis, bouts of nausea began hitting her, too.It was another one of those days. She woke up to find that it was already ten in the morning. Gregory had been trying to reach her: a rather concerning detail, since he never contacted her if there wasn’t any meaningful update. So she called back.“You need to prepare for a contested divorce, Mrs. Beckett,” Gregory opened.“Why? Did he shred the papers again?”“No,” Gregory replied. “But he knew you’re currently busy at your bo
Dinner wound down the way Whitaker events always did. Slowly, warmly, with Mrs. Whitaker extracting promises from everyone before she would let them leave."You'll visit next week," she told Sophie. Her voice was firm, a signal that it was not a question."I'll try, Mrs. Whitaker.""You will visit next week," she repeated, putting emphasis on each word.Sophie could only laugh. "Yes, Mrs. Whitaker."Only then did the older woman seem satisfied. She held Sophie's hands for a moment, slightly longer than necessary. Her kind eyes searched Sophie’s in a way that was reassuring."You're doing well," Mrs. Whitaker finally said. "Bett
Oliver stood there, his towering 6’4 body draped in black tie suit. His golden hair was neatly slicked back. Sophie couldn’t remember the last time she saw Oliver in such a formal setting. Normally, he just let his hair down, obscuring the edges of his face. With his hair pushed back, the strong lines of his face were suddenly impossible to miss. “Looking good, Ollie,” Sophie said in a hushed voice, “but I’m Mrs. Beckett right now.”“Right, right,” Oliver nodded, pulling his hands when he saw Sophie had found her footing. He followed it all by speaking, in a slightly raised voice this time, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Beckett. You should be careful. There are dangerous shards everywhere.”Sophie smiled—Mr. Blackwood was a terrible actor. If not for his reputation as a carefree socialite, people might have noticed how deliberate this entire exchange sounded. “Thank you, Mr. Blackwood,” Sophie said.On the corner of her eyes, she saw Adrian on the floor. His palm was bleeding after holdin
A long-wheelbase Bentley pulled up in front of Donovan Rise. As if it wasn’t enough, a Whitaker crest was painted on the side. Sophie held her laugh: Mrs. Whitaker didn’t play. She really wanted to cheer Sophie up. So as to not waste the kind gesture, Sophie climbed into the car and, within the bounds of propriety, enjoyed all the amenities provided. Except the vintage wine. Damn, Sophie could really use some of that. She put her hands on her belly. There would be champagne tonight. Plenty of it. Normally, refusing a glass at a Whitaker gala would attract little attention. Tonight, however, every eye in New York seemed determined to watch her. She still wanted to keep her baby a secret for a little longer, but if she completely steered away from alcohol, she wondered if it would be too noticeable. Just an hour later, they arrived at the Whitaker’s residence. Built on a vast generational land, it took another
Phones ringing, the PR department running around in chaos. Calls coming one after another. When they thought they'd managed to control the situation, just when they finally managed to send all the reporters away, they immediately swarmed back in. All just because of a single post made from an anonymous account.Adrian’s heart sank. He knew who did it—the one behind the account. What he didn’t know was that she would actually do it.Why? He had defended her properly. He hadn’t exposed her, not even blaming her. People no longer thought she was a vicious, jealous wife. The situation was under control. He had told her it would. Why was she still mad?Gregory Abbott stood by his side, never not on call. Adrian himself was swamped, rejecting interview requests left and right. The HR department had been bugging him for a while. They had been since the first time the scandal happened. Their demand was clear: to suspend Julia Hall. He managed to convince them othe
Sophie didn’t need to wait long for the release to take effect. Of course, she had carefully picked the best and clearest photos. One that showed their faces in a way that was unmistakable. One that immediately made it clear that everything Adrian had said during the press conference were a lie.Just twenty minutes after she released the photos, her phone got busy with notifications. Articles, interview requests. She put her phone on mute after the fifth ding, with only a few exceptions on a white list.One of those on the white list was Lyla Orwell, her employee at her boutique, Meadow Lane.“Mrs. Beckett, are you okay?”Sophie chuckled. Twice she was asked the exact same thing.“Thank you for asking,
Adrian fulfilled his promise. Just as the clock struck midnight, Sophie could hear the beeping of their door system. She swiftly assumed her usual role. The wife, who was always ready to welcome her husband back.“Adrian, you’re too much,” Sophie said with a pout. “Not a word, not even a text. Do I
Their dinner ended on an unsatisfactory note.Adrian had to leave because of a work emergency. Sophie couldn’t even tell if it was real or not—if Adrian was just stealing fractions of time to be with Julia Hall.“I’ll make it up to you,” Adrian had said.But it had been two days, and Adrian was now
Nation’s ideal husband. That was what people called Adrian Beckett—a title Sophie had helped him earn. A self-made man, building his kingdom within just one generation. Beckett Holdings went public after only three years, and on the announcement livestream, Adrian had turned to Sophie and proposed
Three years. Turned out Sophie could only live as Mrs. Beckett for a mere three years. “How disappointing,” she said as she put down the photos in her hands. On the coffee table, there were even more photos of Adrian Beckett. Nation’s ideal husband, they said. Sophie snickered, her eyes scanned th







