Mag-log in“Sign the divorce papers, Olivia… or I’ll make sure you never wake up again.” I thought marriage meant love, loyalty, and forever. But the night I overheard my husband plotting my downfall with my sister-in-law, my world shattered. The man I had sacrificed everything for was only after my family’s wealth and worse, he wanted me dead. Drugged. Betrayed. Left bleeding while he ran to the arms of his ex. That was Marcus Thompson, the man everyone believed was the perfect billionaire husband. But I won’t go down quietly. With enemies in my own family and assassins at my doorstep, I must fight back. And when David, the man who risked his life to save mine, steps in, I begin to see what true love really feels like. Now, I’m trapped between a husband who would rather bury me than let me go, and a man willing to risk everything to protect me. In a world built on lies, betrayal, and deadly secrets… who can I trust when even love could be a weapon?
view moreOlivia's POVThe wedding was small, the way I always knew it would be, once I finally understood what I actually wanted instead of what I had once been taught a life was supposed to look like.We held it in the garden behind the foundation, under the same jacaranda trees that had grown taller in the two years since we planted them, their purple blossoms scattered across the grass the way they had been the first morning I found my mother's grave. I had asked for that on purpose. I wanted her there, in whatever way she could be, on the one day I most wished she could stand beside me."You look like you're about to cry before we've even started," Victoria said, adjusting the collar of my dress with hands that were steadier now than they had ever been when we were girls competing for the same scraps of attention."I might cry the whole way through," I admitted. "I've stopped trying to control that.""Good," she said. "It suits you better than the version of you who used to pretend everyth
Olivia's POVHe was too quiet while he did the dishes, and that was how I knew something was different.David was never quiet like that. He talked while he worked, ran commentary on whatever show was playing, complained cheerfully about the state of the kitchen sponge. That night he stood at the sink with his sleeves pushed up and said almost nothing at all, and I sat on the counter behind him swinging my feet and watching the tense line of his shoulders with growing curiosity."You're being strange," I said."I'm washing dishes.""You're being strange while washing dishes."He turned around, drying his hands on the towel slowly, and there was something in his face I had learned to recognize over the months we had spent building this life together, quiet, careful nervousness dressed up as calm. I had seen that exact expression once before, on a rooftop, right before he kissed me for the first time."David," I said, sliding off the counter. "What is it."He did not answer right away. H
David's POVThe box arrived at my apartment on a Tuesday, small and unremarkable, and I stood in the kitchen holding it for a full minute before I found the nerve to open it.It was not the ring itself that made my hands unsteady. I had chosen that weeks earlier, a simple band with a single stone, nothing like the ostentatious jewelry Marcus used to drape across Olivia like armor plating. I had chosen it specifically because it did not look like anything Marcus would have chosen, because I wanted her to see it and think of nothing except the two of us, no shadow of the old life lingering anywhere near it.What made my hands unsteady was the quiet certainty sitting underneath the decision. I had spent eleven years building a career around careful, measured choices, weighing risk against reward in every direction before I ever committed to anything. This was the first decision of my adult life I had made without needing to weigh it at all.I put the box in the drawer of my nightstand an
Emmanuel's POVThe ribbon was blue, which seemed like an odd detail to remember clearly on a day that held so much else, but I remembered it precisely because Olivia had insisted on it, saying blue was the color of the sky the morning she visited her mother's grave for the first time.We stood together in front of a modest building on the edge of the city, nothing like the towering glass headquarters my other holdings occupied. This one was low and warm looking, red brick with large windows, a garden already planted along the front where children could sit if they wanted to. Olivia had insisted on the garden too. Somewhere for kids to keep their own boxes of stones, she had told me once, without anyone telling them it was childish."The Osei Collins Foundation for Family Safety," the sign above the door read, and I had argued gently with her over that name, suggesting it should carry only her name, since the work itself belonged entirely to her vision. She had refused."It carries bot












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