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**Tiffany’s pov**
By the time I realized I had made the biggest mistake of my life, dawn was already creeping through the floor to ceiling windows. Golden light spilled across the rumpled white sheets, turning everything soft and warm, as though the room itself refused to acknowledge what had happened only hours earlier.
I lay perfectly still, as my heartbeat thundered in my ears. This wasn’t my bedroom, and it
wasn’t my apartment. I certainly wasn’t supposed to be where I woke up after promising
myself for the last twenty seven years that I would never do something so reckless.
Slowly, I turned my head.
He was still asleep.
His face was turned toward the window, the early morning sun tracing the sharp line of his
jaw. Dark hair fell carelessly across his forehead, hiding part of his face from view. One
powerful arm rested across the empty space between us as if, even in sleep, he expected
me to still be there.
Last night he had worn a silver mask, and I had worn sapphire blue. We had spent hours
talking without exchanging names, and somewhere between laughter, dancing, and
conversations that felt far too honest for two strangers, I had forgotten every rule I had ever
lived by.
I should have left after the gala.
Instead… I ended up here, I pressed both hands against my burning cheeks.
“Oh, Tiffany…
”
This wasn’t me, I planned everything, every meeting, every deadline, and every step of
my career. I never acted on impulse. Yet somehow, one mysterious man with kind eyes
hidden behind a mask had completely dismantled years of careful self control in a single
evening.
The frightening part wasn’t that we’d spent the night together, it was that I didn’t regret it,
not even a little. That realization terrified me, I quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake
him. The polished wooden floor felt cold beneath my bare feet.
My dress was draped neatly over the arm of a cream colored sofa, while his tuxedo jacket
lay beside it. I smiled despite myself, at least one of us had remembered to fold our clothes.
Last night replayed in fragments, his laugh.
The way he listened instead of waiting for his turn to speak, how he looked at me as
though every word I said actually mattered. When was the last time anyone had done that? I
couldn’t remember.
I gathered my dress and disappeared into the marble bathroom, a few minutes later I
stared at my reflection. My hair looked hopelessly tangled, mascara had smudged beneath
my eyes. The sapphire earrings Molly had insisted I wear were missing.
I found one beside the sink. The other… hopefully it hadn’t disappeared forever. I let out a
small laugh, Molly was going to kill me. She was going to interrogate me for at least three
hours before deciding whether to kill me.
“You did what?” she would scream.
“I know.
”
“With a stranger?”
“I know.
”
“Without knowing his name?”
“I know.
”
I groaned softly.
There was absolutely no version of this story that made me sound responsible. After
smoothing my dress as much as possible, I stepped back into the bedroom. He hadn’t
moved, the room was silent except for the faint sound of his breathing.
For reasons I couldn’t explain, I found myself walking closer, so I studied him properly for
the first time. Without the mask, he looked… peaceful. Very different from the confident man
who had teased me all night.
There was something strangely vulnerable about him while he slept, his hand rested near
the pillow, they were strong. A faint scar crossed one of his knuckles, I wondered how he’d
gotten it. I also wondered what he looked like when he smiled without holding anything back.
Then I caught myself, and stopped. You’re leaving, you’ll never see him again. That had
always been the unspoken agreement, the masquerade existed because people wanted one
evening free from expectations.
No names, no titles, and no promises, just memories. I reached for my purse, as I did, a
leather wallet caught my attention on the bedside table, it looked expensive, beside it rested
a sleek silver watch that probably cost more than my car.
So… he was wealthy. I shouldn’t have been surprised, half the guests at last night’s gala
probably owned skyscrapers. For a brief second curiosity whispered in my ear, one glance
inside the wallet, one look at an ID, and you’d know who he is.
My fingers twitched, then I shook my head. No. If he had wanted me to know his name,
he would have told me, and if I looked now… it would ruin everything. Some memories were
beautiful because they remained unfinished.
I picked up the hotel notepad from the desk, the pen hovered over the paper. What
exactly did someone write after spending one unforgettable night with a complete stranger?
Nothing seemed right. Finally, I smiled to myself and wrote the only thing that felt honest.
“Thank you…
”
I paused, then continued.
“Thank you for reminding me that life can still surprise me”
.
No name, no phone number, and no invitation to meet again, just gratitude. I placed the
note beneath the pen where he’d easily see it, my hand rested on it for a moment.
“Goodbye,
” I whispered.
Not because I was heartbroken. But because some part of me wished we’d met under
different circumstances. I quietly opened the suite door, before stepping outside, I glanced
back one last time. He was still asleep.
Completely unaware that the woman he’d spent the night talking and laughing with was
walking out of his life forever, or so we both believed. I slipped into the hallway, as the door
clicked shut behind me.
As the elevator carried me toward the lobby, I had no idea that twelve hours earlier, I
hadn’t even wanted to attend the masquerade. If Molly hadn’t practically dragged me there…
none of this would have happened.
And if I had known the stranger behind the silver mask would one day become the man
standing across from me at the altar… I would have run the moment our eyes met
TIFFANYI stared at the screen. The image was blurry, but I knew that silhouette. I knew the way she stood. I knew the way she held herself. And the moment Ethan enhanced the image again, there was no room left for doubt.“Ashley.”The name barely left my lips.Damian looked at me.“You’re sure?”I nodded slowly.“I know her.”Ethan zoomed in further. The woman’s face became clearer.It was Ashley.She was sitting in the corner of the hotel room, partially hidden behind the glass partition. Watching. Listening. Waiting.My stomach twisted.“But she left the country with Victor,” I whispered.“This footage was recorded months ago,” Ethan reminded me.I stared at the screen.“So she was there before Damian signed the document.”“Yes.”“And Richard knew.”“Apparently.”I looked at Damian.He hadn’t said a word. His eyes remained fixed on the screen.“Damian.”He finally looked at me.“I don’t remember her being there.”I swallowed.“But she was.”“I know.”“You said you didn’t know Ashle
TIFFANY“No.”The word left my mouth before I could stop it.The video was frozen on Damian. His hand was holding a pen. The document lay in front of him. Richard sat across from him. Victor was beside them.I turned toward Damian.“You signed it.”His eyes remained fixed on the screen.“I don’t remember.”“How can you not remember signing something?”“I don’t know.”“You were there.”“I know.”“You heard them talking about me.”“I know.”“You knew the marriage would activate the agreement.”“No.”His voice was immediate.“I didn’t know.”“But you signed something.”“Yes.”“What?”“I don’t know.”I stepped away from him. My chest hurt.“Then what did you sign?”“I don’t know.”“Damian!”“I don’t know!”His voice echoed through the room. He looked as shaken as I felt.“I remember meeting them,” he said. “I remember Richard giving me a document. I remember signing something because he told me it was a corporate authorization.”My eyes burned.“And you didn’t read it?”“I did.”“Then how
TIFFANYI could not look away from the page.My signature.On a document I had never seen.On an agreement I had never signed.And a message asking me to find out where Damian had been three months before our wedding.Slowly, I lifted my eyes.Damian was staring at the same page.His face had gone completely still.“Where were you?” I asked.He didn’t answer immediately.“Three months before our wedding,” I repeated.“Tiffany.”“Where were you?”His jaw tightened.“I don’t remember.”I laughed once.It wasn’t funny.“You don’t remember?”“It was months ago.”“You remember everything.”His eyes met mine.“You remember business meetings from years ago. You remember contracts, dates, numbers, people’s names.”I pointed at the document.“And now you don’t remember where you were when someone forged my signature?”“I said I don’t remember.”The words hit harder than they should have.I stepped back.“Did you know about this?”“No.”“Did you know Bennett Interiors was being transferred?”“N
TIFFANYNobody spoke.My name.On the file.Not Bennett Interiors.Not Ashford Group.Not the merger.Me.I stared at Ethan.“Why would an agreement involving a company be filed under my name?”“I don’t know.”Damian took a step forward.“Where is it?”“Richard’s private archive.”“Take me there.”Ethan hesitated.“It’s secured.”Damian’s expression hardened.“Then open it.”“Damian—”“Now.”Ethan nodded.I followed them.The archive was in a private section of the penthouse I had never seen before.A hidden door opened behind one of the bookshelves.I stopped.“You have a secret archive?”Damian glanced at me.“My grandfather does.”“That’s worse.”He almost smiled.Almost.But the tension in the room swallowed it.We walked inside.There were rows of locked cabinets, folders, boxes and documents.Ethan moved toward one of the cabinets.“Here.”He pulled out a thick file.The label was simple.TIFFANY BENNETT.My stomach turned.Damian reached for it.I grabbed his wrist.“Wait.”He
TIFFANYFor several seconds, I couldn’t move. I stared at the message on my phone until the words blurred.Your father didn’t sell Bennett Interiors to Victor.He sold it to Ashley.My fingers tightened around the phone.Ashley.The woman who had spent weeks trying to destroy my marriage.The woman who had attacked Bennett Interiors.The woman who had somehow known things about my family that even I hadn’t known.The woman who had been watching me.The woman who had appeared beside my father.I looked at Damian. He was standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable as he stared at the photograph Ethan had pulled up on the computer.My father.Victor Hale.Richard.Ashley.All standing together.Six months before my wedding.Six months before Richard ever approached me with the marriage proposal.My stomach twisted.“How could Ashley own any part of Bennett Interiors?” I whispered.Ethan looked at me.“We don’t know that she does.”“But someone just told me she does.”“That doesn’
TIFFANYI couldn’t stop staring at the photograph.“Who is that?”Damian zoomed in.“I don’t know.”“Ethan might.”He immediately called him.“Who is the man in the photograph?”There was a pause.Damian’s expression changed.“You’re sure?”Another pause.“Send me everything you have.”He ended the call.“Who is he?”Damian looked at me.“His name is Victor Hale.”My stomach tightened.“The same Victor Hale from the earlier photograph?”“Yes.”The man who had been connected to Ashford Group.The man whose photograph had appeared during the first scandal.“What does he have to do with Bennett Interiors?”“We’re about to find out.”We drove back to Bennett Interiors.This time, I barely noticed the journey.My mind was stuck on Richard’s letter.Six months before the marriage.A third party.Victor Hale.Ashley.My father.There was something connecting all of them.Something I’d never known about.When we arrived, Ethan was already waiting outside.He approached Damian immediately.“I







