LOGINWinter thought the worst thing was being replaced with her cousin… until she crashed the company’s luxury retreat, almost drowned, and woke up pretending to have amnesia—right in front of the man who humiliated her. Now she’s stuck playing fake fiancée and sharing a room with a sexy stranger who clearly hates her guts… but can’t stop staring at her lips like he wants to ruin her. With an ex who suddenly cares way too much, her dream career on the line, and revenge heating up faster than the resort’s hot tubs, Winter is about to turn heartbreak into the most unforgettable comeback of the year. But there’s just one twist: her fake fiancé is actually the new billionaire chairman of the company… and he’s falling for her, hard.
View MoreWINTER
I pack my bags like I’m going to paradise, which, technically, I am. Thirty days of sun, wine, and couple-friendly activities at the Golden Retreat. I’m already picturing paddle-boarding, moonlit dinners, and maybe one of those couple spa sessions where they scrub your sins away. I step out of the house, glowing like a pre-honeymoon goddess in a sundress and lip gloss, only to find Mike at the car, zipping up the trunk with military precision and a face like I just told him I swallowed his promotion. He frowns. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I blink. “Um… packing? Dressing up? Getting ready to go to the annual Golden Retreat? The one your company Valcour International is hosting? The one themed around love and romance and bring-your-significant-other-or-you’ll-regret-it-for-life?” He sighs, long and deep, like I’m a toddler asking for cake before dinner. “Winter, are you seriously leaving your three jobs to go have fun for thirty days? That’s irresponsible. What if you get fired? What about your bills?” I smile like someone on the edge of violence. “Oh, that’s what you’re worried about? Relax, I planned for this. I worked overtime for months. All three jobs approved my time off. My bills are paid. My cats are fed. My soul is moisturized. I’m free, Mike.” He shakes his head slowly. “Yeah… no. I can’t take you with me.” I Pause. “What did you just say?” I ask, suddenly forgetting how to breathe through my nose. “You can’t come,” he repeats, avoiding my eyes. I feel my face twitch. “Okay. I saw the retreat post seven months ago on Valcour’s I*******m. It clearly said partners are required. That includes wives, girlfriends, fiancées, emotional support humans....whatever. I’ve been your fiancée for five years, Mike. If you're not taking me… who are you taking?” He rubs his temples. His anger flares like he’s the victim here. “So now you’re stalking me on social media?” “What? No. I follow Valcour because....hello...I want to work there as a fashion designer one day. That post was public! And you’re deflecting.” I cross my arms. “You promised, Mike. Two years ago, you said you weren’t qualified. Then you got promoted, but last year, you went alone. You said you’d take me this year. You promised.” His expression softens. For a second, I think he’s going to say sorry. Maybe even pull me into a hug. Instead, he does what Mike does best: disappoint creatively. He places his hands on my shoulders like I’m a child he’s about to send to boarding school. “You need to understand me, dear. I already promised to take someone else. I can’t break my word.” “Oh. But you can break your word to me?” “You’re my future wife,” he says, tone so rational I want to scream. “We’re getting married in six months. You should be understanding, Winter. Do you really want your husband to look bad in front of people?” I stare at him like he’s grown two extra heads. “Mike. Who are you taking?” He doesn’t flinch. “Your cousin, Olivia.” My mouth drops open. My ears short-circuit. I stare at him, waiting for the punchline. Nothing. “You’re taking Olivia?” I gasp. “Instead of me?” “She’s your cousin,” he snaps, suddenly defensive. “Can’t you be more considerate?” “I’m sorry....what?” He sighs again. “You know her health isn’t great....” My grip tightens around the suitcase handle. Here comes the pity Olympics. “Her parents died....” "Twenty-five years ago, Mike. They didn’t die yesterday." “She’s had a hard life, Winter. You have everything but she has nothing. Don’t compete with her. She’s been through a lot. And she... she needs this more than you do. You’ll understand someday. You always do.” My heart doesn’t just clench. It tap dances on broken glass. He checks his watch, like this emotional mugging is making him late. “I’m leaving, okay? I don’t want to miss the group photo. See you in a month.” And just like that, he kisses my cheek, gets into the car, and drives off... to a romantic retreat I was supposed to be on, that I basically discovered first. I stand there, in my best heels, with a suitcase full of unbothered outfits and a heart full of pain, watching the man I love disappear into the sunrise like my feelings didn't matter at all.WINTER Two Months Later I'm standing in front of a full-length mirror in a luxury hotel suite, staring at my reflection. And honestly? I barely recognize myself. The woman looking back at me is wearing the most beautiful wedding dress I've ever seen. It's elegant and timeless, off-the-shoulder with delicate lace sleeves that hug my arms perfectly. The bodice is fitted, with intricate beading that catches the light every time I move. The skirt flows out in soft layers of silk and tulle, not too poufy, not too plain. Just right. My hair is swept up in an elegant updo with a few loose curls framing my face. My makeup is flawless, natural but polished. And the veil. God, the veil is stunning. It's cathedral-length, flowing behind me like something out of a fairy tale. I look like a bride. A real bride. Not the fake version Mike tried to create. Not the fantasy version I used to imagine when I was with him and thought that was love. This is real. I'm getting married toda
WINTER I finally manage to stop a cab and practically throw myself into the backseat. "Where to?" the driver asks. I give him Nath's family house address, even though I'm not entirely sure he's there. I call his number again. It rings. And rings. And rings. No answer. I try again. Still no answer. Come on, Nath. Please pick up. I keep calling. Over and over. Like some kind of desperate telemarketer who won't take no for an answer. Finally, on what must be my tenth attempt, he answers. "Hello?" His voice is quiet and flat. "Where are you?" I ask immediately. "Are you at your dad's place?" "Yes." That one word tells me everything. He sounds defeated. Broken. "You sound very sad," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "Is everything okay?" There's a pause. "Can you come to me?" he asks. "If you can't come, you can tell me where you are and let me come to you." My heart breaks a little at how vulnerable he sounds. "What happened?" I ask again. "Is everything okay?" "
WINTER The cab pulls up to our house about twenty minutes later. I pay the driver and we get out. It's getting dark now. The streetlights are just starting to come on. I'm exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. This has been the longest day of my entire life. All I want to do is go inside, hug my mom, take a shower, and collapse into bed. We start walking toward the house. And then I hear it. "Winter!" My father's voice. Oh, you've got to be kidding me. I stop walking. Treasure stops beside me. "Winter!" he calls again. I turn slowly. And there he is. Standing by the side of the house. Looking desperate. "What does he want now?" Treasure mutters. My father starts walking toward us. Not running. Walking. Like he's trying not to spook us. And then he does something I never expected. He drops to his knees in front of me. Actually gets down on his knees on the pavement. "Please," he says, his voice breaking. "You can come and send me to priso
WINTER We agree on a location. A coffee shop about twenty minutes away. I give him the address and we agree to meet in thirty minutes. That gives us just enough time to get there and figure out what we're walking into. "So we're really doing this?" I ask Treasure as we walk to Ace's car. "Of course we're doing this," Treasure says. "Aren't you curious? I mean, our so called father is a piece of garbage, but there has to be a reason he treats Olivia like she's made of gold while treating us like we're dirt on his shoe." "Fair point," I say. Ace drives us to the coffee shop. It's a quiet place, not too crowded. The kind of place where people go to have private conversations. Perfect for secret revelations about family drama, apparently. "Okay, here's the plan," Treasure says as we park. "You sit at one table and talk to this guy. Ace and I will sit at a different table nearby. If anything seems weird or dangerous, we'll step in." "You think he's dangerous?" I ask.












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