登入Lena married billionaire Dominic Black in a hush-hush deal to save her family from debt. But after one cold year, he files for divorce without ever knowing she was pregnant. Five years later, he crashes back into her life—not just as a CEO, but as the man her daughter unknowingly calls “Uncle Dom.”
查看更多Lena’s POV The gala was over, but the echo of it clung to me like smoke. Back at home, the house was quiet like it never was—no clatter from the kitchen, no low hum of Dominic pacing the hall. Just silence, stretched taut over the three of us. I sat on the edge of our bed, still in the black silk dress, my hair pinned, makeup smudged where I’d cried without meaning to. The clock ticked past midnight, and I kept waiting for the words that wouldn’t come. Dominic leaned against the doorway, his jacket long discarded, his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. The faint cut across his cheekbone from earlier—where Clara’s manicured nails had nearly caught him in the chaos—was a sharp reminder of how close we’d come to breaking entirely. Neither of us spoke at first. The truce between us was fragile, a thread stretched thin over months of doubt, jealousy, and half-healed wounds. But tonight, for the first time, he’d stood in front of the world and burned every bridge back to Clara. I ex
The gala was everything I hated. Especially when Lena and I were still not good. Polished marble floors reflected the golden light of chandeliers, the air buzzing with champagne and shallow laughter. Men in expensive suits shook hands as though they weren’t sharpening knives behind their backs. Women glittered like jewels in designer gowns, but not one of them compared to the quiet, steady beauty of the woman standing across the room. Lena. Her dress was black silk, simple but devastating, her hair swept up, leaving the column of her neck bare. She wasn’t smiling—not tonight. Her posture was proud, but her eyes flicked to me once, cool and cautious. She didn’t trust me fully. Not yet. And that was my fault. I had let Clara’s games wedge doubt between us. But tonight, I would burn every bridge to prove where I stood. “Dominic.” Her voice slid through me like poison before I even turned. Clara. She looked immaculate, red lips curved into a smile that was more threat than charm. “I
Lena’s POV I didn’t want to sit. I didn’t want to listen. But Dominic was standing in front of me with a flash drive in his hand, his expression carved from stone and desperation, and for once… for once he wasn’t begging. He wasn’t spinning words like honey. He wasn’t reaching for me. He was just—offering. “Please,” he said, his voice low, frayed at the edges. “If you never believe me again after this, fine. But watch first. Just… watch.” I folded my arms across my chest, trying to ignore the way they trembled. My mug of tea sat forgotten, cooling on the table between us. “Fine.” The word tasted bitter. “Show me.” He connected his laptop to the TV, the blue glow filling the quiet living room. Eliana was asleep upstairs. The house was so still it felt like the air itself was waiting to see which way we’d break. The footage began. A hotel lobby. Clara’s sharp silhouette sweeping inside, heels clicking like a countdown. She wasn’t clinging to Dominic—she was alone, though her bod
Dominic’s POV The hardest part of betrayal isn’t the wound. It’s the silence that follows. Lena hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t cursed. No—she’d just looked at me with those wide, wounded eyes and told me I smelled like another woman. That cut deeper than any bullet ever could. And it meant one thing: if I didn’t find proof, if I didn’t bury Clara under her own lies, I’d lose Lena forever. So I didn’t sleep. Couldn’t. While the house settled into its nighttime rhythm—Eliana’s soft snores down the hall, Lena’s restless shifting in the bedroom we were no longer sharing—I sat in my study with nothing but a lamp, my laptop, and a promise burning through me. Clara thought she could corner me. Frame me. Drag me back into her orbit like some pathetic puppet. Not this time. ********** First stop: the hotel. I made a call just after midnight. Money talks, and mine screamed. By two a.m., I had a scanned copy of the reservation in my inbox. The name on the file made my stomach tighten. D
Lena’s POV The house never felt smaller than on mornings like this — when the quiet stretched too long. I moved through the kitchen as if walking a tightrope, every step measured. Eliana’s drawings were still tacked to the fridge. A half-finished bowl of cereal sat on the counter from last night.
Dominic’s POV The thing about ghosts—they don’t announce themselves. They slip in through the cracks, through a remembered perfume, through a hand brushing yours when it shouldn’t. Clara wasn’t just a woman from my past. She was a wound that had never fully scarred. I met her when I was twenty-f
Dominic’s POV The morning had been mercifully quiet. For once, the paperwork stacked on my desk felt manageable, almost mundane. I let the monotony steady me and distract me from dinner with Clara, from the venom laced behind her smile and the threats curled beneath her words. I’d almost convince
Dominic’s POV The restaurant Clara chose wasn’t just any place—it was the kind of spot you reserved weeks in advance, where the air reeked of money and exclusivity. Chandeliers glittered above like cages of fire, and violins hummed softly in the background. She’d chosen this stage carefully.
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