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I never thought this day would come. I’ve imagined a lot of things that could go wrong in my marriage, but I never even imagined that it would come to this. And I never thought I would see it with my own eyes.
But there it was— a picture of my husband holding another woman close, smiling in ways he never smiled at me. To make it worse, it was not just any woman. It was Eva Sterling. “Multibillionaire, Lucian Dhark, reunites with superstar, Eva Sterling.” When I first read the headline, I was so shocked I could barely stand on my feet . For a moment, it felt like the world was spinning. The name ‘Eva Sterling’ haunted me. Eva was the woman who lived on magazine covers and television screens, the golden girl admired by the whole world. I grew up watching Eva on TV, in my tiny dorm room, wondering how someone could look so flawless. How someone could be so wanted. She always seemed so perfect, so untouchable and glamorous, almost as if she wasn’t part of the same world as people like me. And Lucian… Lucian had once chosen her. That knowledge lived like a ghost in our marriage, even on the days I tried to forget. I didn’t even realize when my phone slipped out of my trembling fingers and landed on the kitchen counter. My eyes burned with anger and hurt as I stared at the picture. Lucian had never looked at me like that. Not in five years. Not in all the quiet mornings when I made his coffee just the way he liked it. Not in the nights when I whispered “I love you”, begging for something he no longer felt. But now, he looked at Eva like she was his world. Eva Sterling was everything I wasn’t—famous, breathtaking, loved, and accomplished in her career. I sank onto the couch, with my head in my hands, staring at the photo as if the longer I looked, the less real it would become. “Claire?” A gentle voice pulled me back. Camilla, the housekeeper, stood in the doorway. “Are you okay, dear?” I lifted my phone and turned the screen toward her. “Did you see this?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Claire…” She sat beside me, placing her hand on my shoulder, the way a mother would comfort a scared child. “These pictures… they don’t necessarily mean—” I didn’t let her finish. “Yes, they do.” My voice cracked despite my effort to sound composed. “I can’t believe he would do this… and with Eva. His ex.” Camilla sighed softly. “I know it looks bad, but you don’t know the whole story yet.” “No.” My voice came out firmer than I expected, far stronger than I felt. “But I know this is real.” We sat in silence for a several moments. Camilla rubbed my back gently, and her voice lowered to a whisper. “You know… I remember how Lucian used to look at you,” she whispered. “During your first months here. He wasn’t exactly warm _ he never had been —but he noticed you. He cared and he showed it.” She paused. “He had this… softness in his eyes. I haven’t seen that in a long time.” Camilla’s words stirred the memories inside me. I remembered the early days, when Lucian would brush my hair behind my ear during a late-night conversation, how he’d asked if I had eaten when I forgot meals, how he’d held my wrist gently when he thought I was upset. The small gestures and quiet warmth was enough for me to believe I mattered. But the warmth faded and faded until it was completely gone. Camilla’s voice pulled me back. “Something changed, but it wasn’t your fault.” She said, rubbing small circles on my back. “It was his.” It hurt more because it was true. She bit her lip, unsure what else to say to comfort me. There were no words that could fix this. Later that evening, the front door opened. Lucian was home. I sat in the living room, waiting for him like I had done every evening for five years. Lucian walked in as if nothing had happened. His black tailored suit was perfect, his expression calm and unreadable. “Claire.” He always acknowledged me by simply saying my name. He glanced at me before removing his coat. I watched him for a several seconds, silently gathering the courage to speak. I needed my voice to be steady. “Lucian, I saw the photos.” Silence fell between us. Sharp, heavy silence. He tightened his jaw. “I see.” He simply said. I rose from the couch. “The photos are everywhere. You and her. Together.” I swallowed. “Who is she?” I knew exactly who she was. I had seen endless pictures of them together before we got married. Lucian tilted his head slightly, an amused expression formed on his face. “Eva. You know Eva. Everybody knows Eva.” His words stung. Yes, everyone knew the famous actress Eva Sterling. “Yes… I know Eva,” I said quietly. “But I didn’t know she was back in the country. I didn’t know the two of you…”My voice faltered. “Are you happy?” The question startled him, but only for a moment. A frown formed on his face and I could tell he was growing irritated. “Happy? Claire, what kind of silly question is that?” He exhaled sharply. “I’ve had a long day. I don’t have time for your drama.” My eyes burned, my shoulders dropped and my heart dropped even lower. Moments passed between us as we stared at each other—a couple whose marriage was slowly collapsing. One loved too much. One did not love enough. “Claire,” Lucian said at last, sounding detached and distant. “You and I come from two different worlds. You know that. We want different things.” “I thought we wanted each other,” I whispered. “You’ve always been naïve,” he muttered. “It’s time to grow up, Claire.” Lucian’s words struck me like a blow. “Do you still love me?” The silence that followed was unbearable, heavy and painful. I had my answer. After a long moment, he sighed and picked up his coat. “Go to bed, Claire. It’s late.” He walked past me without touching me. Without even looking at me. Just like that, he ended the conversation— leaving me standing alone in the middle of the room, with nothing but the image of my husband and another woman, arm in arm, burned into my mind.The gates opened slowly. I watched them from the back seat, my fingers still intertwined with Lucian’s. For a moment, I wondered if I should ask him to turn around. It wasn’t too late— we could still go back to my apartment. I could make some excuse about needing to prepare for court or having work to finish. But then the car rolled through the gates, and I realized I didn’t actually want to leave. I just didn’t know what it would feel like to come back. The mansion came into view a few seconds later. It looked exactly as I remembered: The wide driveway, the perfectly trimmed hedges, the enormous windows reflecting the afternoon sunlight, the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Everything was familiar. And yet, somehow, it wasn’t. The car came to a stop. Before I could reach for the door, Lucian’s hand squeezed mine. “You okay?” I nodded. “I think so.” Lucian studied my face for a moment longer. “If you want to leave—” “I don’t.” I answered quickly.
Two days later, Lucian was finally discharged. I had never seen anyone look so pleased about leaving a hospital. “You’re smiling,” I pointed out as I watched him sign the final discharge papers. “I’ve been trapped in here for almost two weeks.” He replied. “You’ve been recovering from a gunshot wound and a stab wound.” I stated. “Exactly.” “That doesn’t make you sound any less dramatic.” Lucian gave me a look. And despite myself, I still smiled. He looked better— so much better than he had when I’d first seen him lying unconscious in that hospital bed. There was still a sling supporting his injured shoulder, and the stitches along his side remained, hidden beneath his clothes, but the color had returned to his face. He was standing on his own now, walking without assistance. And, most importantly, he was going home. Camilla stood beside me, holding a small bag containing some of his belongings. The moment the doctor finished speaking, she began repeati
For several seconds, I couldn’t speak. I stared through the windshield, but I wasn’t really seeing the street in front of me anymore. I was seeing Hart. The Hart I’d known for a decade. The man who had always been there. The man who had taken my calls at three in the morning. The man who had never asked me whether something was right or wrong. The man who had simply asked me what needed to be done. And now he was talking about changing. Because of them. Because of Claire. Because of Margot Sinclair. Because of a trial. I clenched my jaw. “Did you give them something?” Silence. My heart began pounding. “Hart.” Nothing. “Did you give Claire something?” Still nothing. I sat up straighter. “Did you give her evidence?” He finally spoke. “Why does it matter?” My stomach twisted. It mattered because I needed to know how much he had told them. It mattered because every piece of evidence could destroy me. It mattered because if Hart had turned, I needed to know bef
I barely made it to my car before I slammed the door hard enough to make the windows tremble. For several seconds, I simply sat there in silent fury, my hands gripping the steering wheel. I didn’t realize how hard I had been clenching my jaw until it started hurting. Claire. That worm had somehow managed to get under my skin without even raising her voice. She hadn’t threatened or mocked me. She hadn’t even looked particularly triumphant. That was what made it worse. She had looked at me like I was already finished. Like she knew something I didn’t. I hated that look. I hated her. But more than anything, I hated the uncertainty. Hart was supposed to be the one thing I didn’t have to question. For ten years, I had never had reason to question his loyalty. Not once. He had always been there. Whenever I needed something done, I knew Hart would do it for me. Whenever someone became a problem, Hart made the problem disappear. Whenever I was afraid, he remind
I closed the door behind me as quietly as I could. For a moment, I just stood in the hallway. I could still hear the faint hum of the hotel at night. Voices drifted from somewhere downstairs, followed by the occasional sound of footsteps. Eva was waiting for me. Downstairs. At midnight. After everything that had happened between us, I should have woken Lucian. I knew that. But something inside me told me I needed to hear what she wanted first. I tightened the belt of my robe around my waist before walking toward the elevator. Every step I took made my stomach twist a little tighter. I had spent months preparing to take for Eva Sterling to court. I had studied her lies, her schemes, her relationships. The people she’d manipulated, the money she’d stolen, and the evidence she’d tried to destroy. I thought I understood her by now. But standing in an elevator at midnight because she had asked to speak to me privately made me realize something. I didn’t know what Eva
I woke sometime during the night. I wasn’t sure what had pulled me out of sleep at first. The room was dark, except for the faint light coming from the city outside the windows. For a few seconds, I simply stared at the ceiling. Then I became aware of something beside me. Warmth. Lucian. He was asleep on his back, one arm resting across the space between us. His breathing was slow and steady… peaceful. I turned my head toward him. There was something almost surreal about seeing him like this. After everything that had happened, I still occasionally woke up expecting to find him in a hospital bed, surrounded by machines. Instead, he was lying beside me, normal. And somehow, we had found our way back to this. I smiled faintly as I reached over and gently brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. He didn’t stir. “You’re impossible,” I whispered. He didn’t react— he obviously didn’t hear me. I smiled again and shut my eyes— there was no point in stay







