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The Don's purchase
The Don's purchase
Penulis: Valentina

Glass Walls

Penulis: Valentina
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-03-28 03:40:15

Chapter One

"Aziza, you have to smile. Not too much though—you don’t look beautiful when you show too much teeth."

Mother’s words rang through my head as I forced myself to smile at the dozens of cameras flashing my way. You’d think with the way the paparazzi accosted us that I’d be used to them by now, but I wasn’t, and I don’t think I ever will be.

Wilbet held my waist in a punishing grip as I tried not to wince because just underneath my custom Versace dress throbbed a huge bruise  a reminder of when he had  pushed me down the stairs earlier that day.

Wilbet had a very short fuse

That's what his parents and my mother would tell you to make up for his excessiveness. But the truth is that Wilbet was a very abusive man.

I didn’t know he was like this when we got married. Not like it would have stopped me from marrying him, but at least it would have given me time to prepare. My wedding was the only thing I had done right, according to my mother. You see, I wasn’t even supposed to be born. My mother already had my sister and my brother, and she was content with her happy little family—until, well, me.

She never fails to remind me what bad luck I am because when she got pregnant with me, she was at the peak of her career. And let's be honest nobody wants a pregnant model. She took so much time bouncing back that it's safe to say her career never recovered after my birth. Hence, the hate.

I smiled a little for the cameras as Wilbet guided me inside the lavish restaurant where an exclusive dinner event was being held. I was tired of this life,waking up and getting dolled up to play pretend for the world as Wilbet Gregory’s wife.

I know I might sound ungrateful because a lot of people would kill to be in my shoes,a rich husband, unlimited credit cards, a chance to frolic with the cream of the crop. A fairytale life to those behind the lens.

But not to me.

I remember meeting Wilbet sometime last year at a gala I attended with my mother. I had no other option. It was either that or endure her mouthing me off the next week, and seeing as I value my peace and quiet, I followed her. Draped in silk and pearls, I looked pretty enough to attract someone suitable, Mother had said after giving me a once-over. Though, I suspect she never guessed that he would be that interested in me. Hell, I didn’t even expect it.

Turns out Mr. Gregory was very much interested in me, which came as a shock because anyone who spent a couple of minutes with me left I  was an absolute bore. Something I had to do because I could not see myself marrying someone as stuffy or aristocratic as my mother’s posé.

But Wilbet had stuck—annoyingly so and had refused to leave me. All my attempts to get him to leave me alone proved futile. And when he noticed I wasn’t giving him any attention, he started to woo me with the most extravagant gifts from beautiful gold pieces to high-end emeralds and rubies—in a bid to get my attention.

He got someone’s attention, that’s for sure.

My mother’s.

She began her usual pestering for me to accept his proposal. This was the very first man to show interest in me, and if I let him go, nobody might pay any attention to me. I wasn’t pretty like darling, beloved Cassandra, nor was I smart and innovative like sweet Noah.

So, I did what any sensible person would do.

I accepted Wilbet’s proposal because, one, I didn’t have a choice—my mother would have made my life a living hell if I had denied him—and two, he seemed like a nice person. What harm could be done?

Boy, was I wrong.

The wedding was planned by my mother and Wilbet’s parents and, like anyone guessed, was very grand. They wanted nothing short of the best for their only son. My mom only cared about the bragging rights this would bring her. I mean, two daughters marrying into wealth and a son who's one step closer to receiving the Nobel Prize? My mom was on the freaking moon.

On my wedding day, I stood in the bridal suite, makeup done. My elegant Vera Wang dress made me look stunning, but despite the beautiful exterior, I was a mess inside. Was I really about to do this? Tie the knot with someone I barely knew because of a few gifts?

If I called off this wedding now, sure, it would be embarrassing, but people would still talk about it, right? Giving my mother what she wants there’s nothing like bad publicity, right?

I picked up my bouquet, sighing helplessly. I wished I had someone to talk to. My sister barely said a word to me—even while growing up. It seemed as though, to her, I didn’t exist. And if my feelings were hurt, why would she care? She had everyone eating out of the palm of her hand.

It was even worse with Noah, who was closer to my age always buried in work. I doubt he even remembered he had a younger sister. He wasn’t even here for my wedding.

But Cassandra was.

I wished that maybe she’d just come inside and reassure me that it was pre-wedding jitters, that it would all pass. But she didn’t. No one did.

No one came to the bridal suite.

And no one walked me down the aisle.

I was alone. Just as I had always been.

Even my husband didn’t smile, grin, or cry when he saw me—left me wondering if this wasn’t the same man who had wooed me endlessly.

I would later come to understand that Wilbet never really loved me.

He was almost in the same position as I was.

Unwanted.

While my reason for being undesirable was because I was a bore and practically chased all the men away from me, Wilbet’s was much worse.

And like a fool I fell for him Hook, line, and bloody sinker.

Your wedding is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. The day you wear a pretty dress, look like a princess, and marry the love of your life.

Mine was anything but.

And the fact that I don’t get to have a do-over crushes me to this day.

A painful squeeze by my side snaps me back to reality.

"You’re zoning out too much. Where’s your mind at?" Wilbet whispered in my ear as I flashed a tentative smile.

"Nowhere."

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    Aziza – POVSomething was wrong. I just didn’t know what.One week ago, the staff were gone. The cars were missing. The house had felt half-dead. I had tiptoed around empty halls with questions bubbling up in my throat, scared to ask them out loud.And now? Everyone was back.The cook was humming again in the kitchen. The gardener waved at me like he’d never stopped coming. The driver was polishing the Bentley in the sun. I even caught a glimpse of the jet flying out yesterday, its wings cutting across the blue sky.The paintings that had disappeared from the hall quietly, without a word were back too. Hung exactly as they’d always been. As if someone had taken a photo and pressed rewind.It was the kind of thing you’d dismiss if it happened once. But everything had reversed itself in a week.And that was why my head wouldn’t stop spinning.Because I had seen the documents.I had been in the library looking for a book when I found them, lying half-tucked under one of Wilbet’s old news

  • The Don's purchase    Pressure Points

    Wilbet – POVLeaving Emile’s house left me more disoriented than usual. I used to run to her for closure, for comfort—a distraction that made forgetting easier. But now? I couldn’t even forget in peace.I slid into the driver’s seat of my Bentley and backed out of the driveway. If any of Emile’s staff were shocked to see me behind the wheel, they didn’t show it. Honestly, I wouldn’t have blamed them. I couldn’t even remember the last time I drove myself anywhere. But now, it was something I had to do. Letting the driver go was one of many decisions forced by truth I could no longer outrun: we couldn’t afford him.And that wasn’t even the worst of it. Aziza had started noticing. The missing day staff. The cleaner who didn’t show. The little girl who now served her breakfast alone. I silently prayed to whatever god might still tolerate me that Aziza hadn’t started connecting dots too fast. The last thing I needed was for her to go running to her mother—or worse, her brother. That would

  • The Don's purchase    Pawn or player

    EMILE — POVHe rolled out of bed without a single word. Like he hadn’t just rearranged my guts.Classic Wilbet.If there’s one thing the man knows how to do, it’s fuck. I’ll give him that. Cold precision. Mechanical. Detached. But still—there’s a hunger to it. A need. I used to think it was about me. Now, I know better. It’s about control. About reminding himself that he still owns something—anything—in a world where everything else is slipping through his fingers.I stretched, letting the silk sheets pool at my waist, my skin flushed and sticky with the sweat of something that could never quite be called love. I watched him from the bed—back stiff, movements tense, shirt wrinkled from where it had been tossed across the floor last night. He didn’t glance at me. Didn’t say a thing.“You’re quieter than usual,” I murmured, voice low and drowsy, the kind of voice that invited secrets. “That wife of yours not letting you get any rest?”He paused for a fraction of a second, stiffened as

  • The Don's purchase    Cracks in Marble

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  • The Don's purchase    Too close too far

    MALCOLM — POVI had always prided myself on my restraint and control. It was something I had honed over the years—carefully cultivated through brutal discipline and relentless precision. I had immense experience when it came to handling people, especially women. I knew how to make them feel wanted, understood, even cherished, all while keeping my heart locked behind iron bars. But when it came to her… all those years of experience went flying out the window.I first saw her at a debutante ball. She wasn’t the one being celebrated—no, she was simply there to support her older sister, who was making her grand entrance into society. While the entire room buzzed over the elegance and poise of the beautiful, condescending older sister, my gaze landed elsewhere. On her. She was like a breath of fresh air in that stuffy ballroom, a vision wrapped in soft silk and mystery. Her discomfort was evident—like she’d rather be anywhere else but there. That alone was amusing to me. Unpolished. Authe

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