Apologies for not updating any of my stories yesterday. It was an emotionally and physically draining day for me. I ended up focusing on finishing one of my ongoing stories that isn't published here and managed to get about 90% done before I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. Huge thanks to all the new gems contributors and to K.C. for the title suggestions. I’ve chosen "Blindsided" from your ideas and hope my editor approves it soon! :)
ARIAKatherine Deck' office takes up the top floor of a discreet building in the financial district.The reception area screams understated elegance. Quality furniture without being flashy, showing professional success without needing to brag about it.The vibe matches what my research revealed about Katherine herself: substance over style, real excellence over appearances.The receptionist takes me straight to Katherine's office despite the late hour.The attorney stands up as I enter. She’s a tall woman in her fifties with dark hair and sharp eyes that miss nothing.Her handshake is firm and direct, her assessment equally so as she gestures toward a seating area more comfortable for a long conversation than her formal desk."Thanks for fitting me in on such short notice," I start, placing my document portfolio on the table between us."High-conflict divorces rarely come with convenient scheduling," Katherine responds. "My assistant mentioned business complications mixed with the div
"These can't be right."Aria hunched over the quarterly reports, the numbers swimming before her eyes. Each column told the same story—a downward spiral that had begun years ago, almost to the day her father had married Victoria Pierce.She tucked a strand of dark curls behind her ear. Her fingers left a smudge of ink on her cheek, unnoticed as she recalculated the figures for the third time.The office around her had emptied hours ago. At twenty-four, Aria was often the first to arrive and the last to leave, desperately trying to keep her father's legacy from crumbling beneath the weight of mounting debt.The business degree she'd worked so hard for at State University—scholarship-funded, unlike Vivian's designer education was being put to use in ways her professors had never covered: how to stretch payments, which creditors to prioritize, when to beg for extensions.Her phone vibrated on the desk. A notification from Instagram. Without thinking, she tapped it open.Vivian Pierce's p
A sudden call at 2:17 AM jolted Aria from a restless sleep filled with dreams of drowning in red ink and balance sheets."You need to come now!" Victoria's voice was brittle with fury, lacking its usual veneer of false warmth. "Immediately.""What's happened? Is it Dad?" Aria was already fumbling for the light switch, heart hammering against her ribs."Just get here." The line went dead after that.Outside, the night had turned hostile. Rain lashed against Aria's windshield as she navigated the winding road up to the mansion, each lightning flash illuminating the path ahead for terrifying seconds before plunging her back into darkness.Her wipers fought a losing battle against the downpour, much like her struggle to keep her father's company afloat.By the time she reached the house, Aria was soaked from the brief dash from car to door.The housekeeper didn't greet her this time; instead, Victoria herself stood in the marble foyer, still dressed in evening clothes, her perfect makeup
Morning light filtered through the blinds, casting prison-bar shadows across Robert Taylor's sleeping form.Aria shifted in the uncomfortable chair where she'd spent the night, her neck stiff, her mind foggy from fitful sleep interrupted by nurses' checks and the steady beep of monitoring equipment.The doctor had called it a "cardiac event"—not quite a heart attack, but a warning shot across the bow. "His heart is weakening," Dr. Winters had explained in hushed tones outside the room. "The stress, his age, his previous attack... He needs calm and stability. Another episode like this could be fatal."Aria rubbed her eyes, smudging yesterday's mascara further.Her phone showed seventeen missed calls from the office. Monday morning, and for the first time in her working life, she wasn't there to open the doors.The click of expensive heels announced Victoria's arrival before she appeared in the doorway, immaculate in a dove-gray suit, not a hair out of place despite the early hour.She
Elysium Boutique occupied the penthouse floor of the city's most exclusive shopping district, accessible only by private elevator with an attendant who checked names against a list before allowing entry.Victoria was greeted by name while Aria was assessed with a quick, dismissive glance."Mrs. Pierce-Taylor," the boutique manager, a rail-thin woman with a severe chignon, glided forward. "We received your urgent request. How may we assist today?""Claudette, we have an emergency," Victoria confided, as though sharing state secrets. "My stepdaughter requires a complete wardrobe. Immediately."Claudette's gaze swept over Aria with the clinical precision of a butcher evaluating a subpar cut of meat. "I see. And the... dimensions?""Whatever you have in your largest sizes," Victoria replied. "We're working with significant constraints, both in time and... material."Aria felt her cheeks burn as the two women discussed her body as though she weren't present."Perhaps Madame would be more c
Xavier Harrington's office was a monument to power. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city he was systematically conquering, furniture of dark leather… not a single personal photograph or memento to suggest the occupant was human rather than a perfectly engineered corporate machine.The man stood with his back to the door, speaking quietly into a phone while gazing out at his domain. Tall and broad-shouldered, his bespoke suit emphasized a physique maintained by expensive personal trainers and ruthless self-discipline.When he turned, Aria's breath caught—not because of his conventional good looks, but because of the absolute coldness in his ice-blue eyes.Those eyes barely registered Aria's presence, focusing instead on Victoria as he concluded his call. "Meeting later. Pierce priority."With that, he set down the phone without saying goodbye."Victoria. I expected this meeting four hours ago." His words fell like ice shards into the silence."A family emergency," Victoria exp
Michael spread the contract before Aria, who could hear the low, intense conversation between Xavier and her stepmother across the room, though the words were indistinct.From Victoria's rigid posture, it wasn't going well."Page seventeen contains the personal conduct clauses," Michael said quietly, drawing her attention back to the document. "You'll want to pay particular attention to those."Aria flipped to the indicated page, scanning the dense legal text. Her business degree helped her navigate the jargon, but what she found made her stomach clench.[The Wife agrees to undergo any physical modifications deemed necessary by the Husband to maintain the Harrington family image, including but not limited to weight management, cosmetic procedures, dental work, and dermatological treatments.The Wife shall, within six months of signing, achieve and maintain the following measurements: waist not to exceed 26 inches, hips not to exceed 36 inches, weight not to exceed 125 pounds.The Wife
ARIAVictoria's phone chimed with a message once they arrived at the parking garage.Her smile widened as she read it."Excellent news," she announced. "Xavier's grandmother has invited us to the Harrington Estate. She wants to meet her new granddaughter-in-law immediately she calls."Aria stared at her in horror. "But I have nothing to wear, I need to check on Dad—""Details," Victoria dismissed. "The boutique will deliver options whenever we want. Your father is stable. This meeting with Eleanor Harrington is crucial; she's the true power behind the Harrington fortune."Victoria paused when they reached the car, her expression becoming suddenly serious. "One more thing, Aria. When you meet Eleanor, remember she's old-fashioned. Very old-fashioned. She believes in the sanctity of marriage, regardless of how it came about. Don't mention the business aspects of this arrangement.""You want me to pretend this is a love match?" Aria asked incredulously."I want you to be smart," Victoria
ARIAKatherine Deck' office takes up the top floor of a discreet building in the financial district.The reception area screams understated elegance. Quality furniture without being flashy, showing professional success without needing to brag about it.The vibe matches what my research revealed about Katherine herself: substance over style, real excellence over appearances.The receptionist takes me straight to Katherine's office despite the late hour.The attorney stands up as I enter. She’s a tall woman in her fifties with dark hair and sharp eyes that miss nothing.Her handshake is firm and direct, her assessment equally so as she gestures toward a seating area more comfortable for a long conversation than her formal desk."Thanks for fitting me in on such short notice," I start, placing my document portfolio on the table between us."High-conflict divorces rarely come with convenient scheduling," Katherine responds. "My assistant mentioned business complications mixed with the div
ARIAThe 48-hour deadline ticks down to its final hours when I return the divorce papers to Xavier's office. Each page is covered in my red ink markings, rejecting every inadequate term.My note stays simple: "Inadequate and unacceptable!"I also attach all my documentation: financial reports showing company growth directly from my projects, client acquisition records with revenue impact, strategic initiatives I developed with resulting profitability metrics. The evidence creates an undeniable record of value creation far exceeding the settlement he offered.I add a final page quoting specific language from our original contract about dissolution terms—language Xavier's proposal completely ignores.The message is simple: I know exactly what I'm legally entitled to, and I have the documentation to back it up.Xavier responds through his lawyers rather than personally. They send another threatening message giving me 48 more hours to accept the original terms before they "pursue alternat
ARIAThe morning after catching Xavier and Vivian together, I walk into my office to find a sealed envelope sitting dead center on my desk. "Personal and Confidential" it says in bold letters, with the fancy embossed logo of Xavier's personal lawyers, not Harrington's regular attorneys.I shut my door before opening it. Inside are about fifty pages of legal crap, with "Petition for Dissolution of Marriage" right at the top in big, bold letters.Divorce papers. Not exactly shocking after last night, but the timing right after the board meeting where they restructured everything shows this was all planned out.I flip through the document, my finance brain kicking in despite feeling being punched in the gut.The settlement terms jump out immediately. He’s offering a lump sum that's less than 20% of what our original contract guaranteed. The number completely ignores everything I've done for Harrington's growth, all the value I've created, and the specific compensation our prenup spelled
ARIAAfter another day of Xavier playing hide-and-seek, I've had enough.The manila envelope feels heavy in my hands. Inside are all the receipts I've been collecting.Hard evidence he can't just brush off with more of his bullshit excuses.My plan seems reasonable - leave this with a note asking for an honest conversation. No drama, no screaming match. Just grown-ups dealing with a problem.Xavier's study door is usually locked, his sacred man cave where even I'm not supposed to go without an invitation now. But today, the heavy oak door swings open when I push it.What I see makes my blood freeze.Xavier's on the leather couch with Vivian practically in his lap.Her blouse is half unbuttoned showing lacy bra underneath. His tie is thrown on the floor, and his hand is wrapped around her waist like he owns her.They break apart when they hear me with shocked expressions.For a second, nobody moves. The envelope dangles from my numb fingers as my brain struggles to process what I'm see
ARIAI arrive home drained, every muscle aching with the weight of the day.Too tired to think, I drag myself into a quick shower, hoping the water might wash away more than just the grime.But my chest still feels heavy with the ache lodged deep behind my ribs.I try to stay strong… to keep my head high, keep moving forward but nothing I do seems to lift the cloud settling over me.I flip through my leather journal, sitting cross-legged on my bed after a long shower, finally facing what I've been dodging for months.My hands are shaking as I read. The pages tell the whole embarrassing story of how I went from seeing Xavier as just a business partner to... God, I can barely admit it even to myself.May 22: Caught myself watching Xavier during the board presentation today. Not analyzing his strategy but noticing how his eyes crinkle slightly when he's pleased with a point well made.June 8: Missed Xavier during his three-day conference trip. House felt weirdly empty.My stomach twists
ARIAI start noticing a pattern. Xavier and Vivian's cars are the last ones in the executive parking lot night after night, sometimes until dawn. At first, I can buy the excuses—Asian expansion needs attention, European acquisition has those regulatory headaches. Sure, work happens.But then three nights a week becomes four, then five. They're staying past midnight no matter what's on the calendar the next day. And when they finally leave? They don't look exhausted like normal people after grinding through work all night. They look... energized. Sometimes disheveled. Often sharing little private jokes or lingering by their cars, talking low.I try to join one of these sessions, keeping it casual."The European acquisition filing deadline's coming up," I mention when I catch Xavier alone. "I could stay tonight, help finish the documentation. Those financial disclosures need a careful eye."Xavier doesn't even think about it. "Not necessary. Vivian and I have it covered.""Those financi
ARIAThe NeuroSphere acquisition report sits completed on Xavier's desk for tomorrow's meeting. Sixty-four pages of detailed analysis after three weeks of intense work. Singapore's tech market fits perfectly with Harrington's infrastructure, and I've covered every financial angle. When I walk into the conference room the next morning, I stop dead in the doorway. Vivian's standing at the presentation screen showing my financial models, just with different colors but clearly my work. The footer reads "Strategic Analysis by Vivian Taylor.""Aria, perfect timing," Xavier points to a chair far from the presentation area. "Vivian was just explaining the NeuroSphere opportunity."I sit there stunned while she presents my analysis as her own, occasionally adding comments that show she barely understands the actual numbers.The acquisition team directs all their questions to her instead of me, while Xavier nods approvingly at details I researched and put together myself."This is remarkably th
ARIAVivian starts at Harrington Consolidated exactly one week after getting back from Tokyo. Her office sits right across from Xavier's corner space that used to be for visiting board members only. The glass walls give her a perfect view of the executive floor while making sure everyone can see how close she is to the top.When the salary authorization form lands on my desk, I feel sick to my stomach. The number's higher than what directors with fifteen years of experience make. I question the ridiculous compensation package, but Xavier brushes me off without even looking up from his computer."Her role requires certain appearances be maintained," he says like that explains everything."Her role hasn't even been properly defined." I drop the form on his desk. "What exactly is she doing to earn this kind of money?"Xavier finally looks at me, clearly annoyed. "Client relations, social function representation, cultural consultation for international deals.""Those are just empty buzzwo
ARIAI don't know what I expected after Xavier left for Tokyo with Vivian two weeks ago. Maybe that distance would clear his head, give him perspective. Instead, they return closer than ever. I watch from my office window as their town car pulls up to Harrington headquarters. Xavier steps out first, then extends his hand to help Vivian. She emerges laughing at something he said, her hand lingering on his arm longer than necessary.My stomach twists as I observe their body language. They move in sync now, a closeness that wasn't there before. Two weeks in Tokyo accomplished what months of careful manipulation had been building toward.Michael knocks on my office door, his expression grim. He's been my only ally through this nightmare."How bad is it?" I ask when he closes the door behind him."Bad." Michael hands me a folder. "They shared a suite at the Imperial. Separate bedrooms, but..."I don't need him to finish the sentence. The implication hangs heavy between us."The Nakamura ne