MasukCatherine Smith was born into untouchable wealth, a girl with everything except the freedom to love by choice and not demand. When she falls for Elijah Blakes, the quiet, kind man who works at the repair shop, she thinks she’s found the one thing money can’t afford: real love. But Elijah is hiding a secret. He’s not poor. He’s not powerless. He’s the estranged heir of a rival empire— and he’s been pretending to be someone else to keep her close. When her powerful parents discover their forbidden relationship, they break them off mercilessly. Catherine is forced to marry into a loveless engagement. Elijah, heartbroken, disappears and marries someone else. Years later, fate brings them back together. He’s colder now. Married. Untouchable. But the fire between them never died. And now, with everything to lose and nothing left to hide, the only question left is: Will she risk everything again for a man who lied to win her heart or—will love truly the only thing they can’t afford?
Lihat lebih banyakThe knock on Catherine’s door wasn’t gentle.It was deliberate. Sharp. Like it came with a threat.She opened it, half-expecting Elijah. Maybe even James.But nothing — nothing — could’ve prepared her for Talia Blake, standing in a bone-white coat, a wicked smile playing on her lips like she already knew she’d won.Catherine froze. “You’re kidding me.”Talia’s eyes swept over her, calm but cutting. “I don’t do jokes, sweetheart. I do facts. Truths. And I brought one for you.”She held up a black envelope sealed in wax.Catherine didn’t move. “If you think I care—”“You don’t. Yet.” Talia stepped closer. “But you will. The man you’re so in love with? He’s not who you think he is. He never was.”“I don’t believe a word out of your—”“You don’t have to. Just read.” Talia shoved the envelope into her hands and walked off, the click of her heels echoing like gunshots.Catherine’s fingers trembled as she broke the seal.Inside: documents. Dozens of them.Private jet manifests.Offshore acco
The phone buzzed again.JAMES CATER IS LIVE.Catherine’s blood turned cold.She opened the stream.James stood in front of a luxury backdrop, all charm and heartbreak. The lighting soft, his voice calculated.“I never wanted to speak about this publicly, but… after everything she’s done… I can’t stay silent.”The comments flooded in:“You deserve better.”“She’s sick.”“This is what women like her do.”James continued, eyes glassy.“I loved Catherine with everything I had. Even when she ran back to him. Even when I found out about the video… I still prayed she’d come home.”A beat.“But some people aren’t meant to be saved.”That was the moment Catherine cracked.She screamed.She screamed like her soul had claws and needed to tear through her body to breathe. Her phone hit the floor. Her fists balled into the sofa.He’d made her the villain of a tragedy he wrote.⸻Her assistant, Marla, banged on the door minutes later.“Everyone’s pulling out, Catherine! Vogue dropped the feature. E
The internet didn’t whisper.It screamed.By morning, hashtags had changed.From #CatherineForgiveHim to:#HomewreckerHeiress#CaughtWithElijah#SlutInSilkA blurry but undeniable video was everywhere.Elijah, on his knees.Catherine, crumbling into him.His hands wrapped around her waist like she belonged to him.It wasn’t pornographic.But it was intimate. Raw.And the captions twisted it into filth.“This is what loyalty looks like?”“Engaged but grinding on your ex?”“James deserves better.”Catherine’s name became poison.⸻She woke up late.Her eyes swollen. Her throat dry.Her phone buzzing like a wasp nest.“Catherine,” her assistant, Marla, sobbed over the phone. “Your brand sponsors are pulling out. Harper & Vale just ended the campaign. All of them saw it.”Catherine sat upright, heart pounding. “What… saw what?”Marla hesitated.“You and Elijah. Someone filmed it. It’s everywhere. Twitter. TikTok. News blogs. Even your mom shared a cryptic post saying she’s ‘praying for yo
The rain had started without warning.Not a downpour — just enough to blur car windows and drown out thoughts.Catherine sat in the back of a nondescript black sedan, hood pulled low over her forehead, dark sunglasses shielding swollen eyes. She hadn’t slept. Not really. Her phone had remained beside her all night like a ghost whispering Elijah’s words over and over again:“Tell me where you are. I’ll come.”She didn’t text back.She just… showed up.The driver took a turn down a narrow alley in Westbridge — the kind of place nobody photographed for magazines. Elijah had chosen the location: a run-down piano bar turned private loft. No cameras. No staff. Just keys under a mat and memories waiting to explode.She stepped out slowly. Her heels clicked against the pavement, but it wasn’t confidence anymore. It was armor.The door creaked as she pushed it open.And there he was.Leaning against the grand piano, the keys dusty and untouched — but his eyes? They burned like matches.“Cather












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