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I still remember how excited I was that night.
My heart was beating so fast I could barely breathe as I stood outside Daniel’s apartment. In my hand was a small, white-ribboned box, the watch he’d been eyeing for months.
A "future husband" gift.
In exactly two weeks, we were supposed to say "I do."
I smiled to myself, adjusting the strap of my bag. The hallway smelled faintly of fresh paint and someone’s dinner; the lingering scent of garlic hung in the air.
I knocked softly. No answer.
"Daniel?" I called out.
Still nothing. He’d told me he would be home tonight. Maybe he was in the shower?
I reached into my bag and pulled out the spare key he’d given me months ago. “For when you move in after the honeymoon,” he’d said then, kissing my forehead. My chest warmed at the memory.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside.
"Daniel? I’m here!"
The apartment was dim. Only a single light in the living room cast a low, golden glow. His jacket was tossed over the couch, and his shoes were kicked messily near the door.
He was home.
I kicked off my heels and walked further in, a nervous, happy flutter in my stomach. "I brought you a surprise…"
A sound came from the bedroom. A soft, breathless laugh.
Then, a low male voice. Daniel’s voice.
My heart skipped a beat, but not the good kind. Another sound followed, a woman’s voice. A soft, unmistakable moan.
My body went completely cold.
No. It’s the TV. It has to be the TV.
But then another laugh echoed, and this time, my stomach dropped through the floor. I recognized that voice.
"Sophie?" I whispered.
The sound of the bed creaking reached my ears, sharp and rhythmic. Every step toward that bedroom door felt like walking through wet cement. My hand trembled so hard I could barely grip the handle.
I pushed the door open. And my world shattered.
Daniel was in the bed. He wasn’t alone.
Sophie was underneath him, her long blonde hair fanned across the pillow. His hands were on her waist. Her nails were digging into his shoulders.
They were both naked.
For a second, the world stopped spinning. Daniel froze. Sophie’s eyes went wide.
The small white gift box slipped from my fingers. It hit the floor with a hollow thud that felt louder than a gunshot.
Daniel scrambled back, grabbing a handful of the duvet to cover himself.
"Lena"
My ears started ringing. My vision blurred as if I were underwater.
"Lena, this isn't what it looks like…"
"Don’t," I said. My voice sounded flat.
Sophie pulled the blanket around her shoulders, but she didn’t look ashamed. She looked smug. "Lena... you weren't supposed to be here tonight."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
"You..?" I whispered, looking at the girl who was supposed to be my maid of honor.
Daniel ran a hand through his hair, looking more annoyed than guilty. "Look... since you’re here, we might as well just deal with this."
"Deal with what?" I asked quietly.
"Us." He glanced at Sophie, then back at me. "I don’t want to marry you anymore."
"What?" I breathed.
Daniel looked relieved, like he’d finally offloaded a heavy burden. "I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you for weeks."
Sophie leaned back against the headboard. "You have to admit, Lena... Daniel and I just make more sense."
This was the girl who helped me pick out my wedding dress. The girl who held my hair back when I was sick. She had been sleeping with my fiancé for months.
"How long?" I asked.
Daniel sighed. "A few months."
The room spun. "A few months?"
"That’s not the point," he said impatiently. "The point is, we were never right together. You’re kind, Lena. But you’re... safe and predictable."
Sophie let out a small, cruel laugh. "Daniel needs excitement and… passion."
My nails dug into my palms. I looked at her. "You were my best friend."
She shrugged. "Not anymore."
Daniel reached for his shirt on the floor. "I’ll handle the wedding cancellation. I’ll even pay the deposits. You can move your stuff out by the end of the week."
"You’re kicking me out?"
"Well... Sophie is moving in."
Something inside me finally snapped. I didn't scream or cry. I just laughed, a broken laugh.
I looked at them one last time. The man I loved and the woman I trusted.
Then I turned and walked out. I didn't stop until I hit the cold night air and the first sob finally broke. through.
The morning mist was still clinging to the Atlantic as Leo dragged Tristan toward the shoreline. I watched from the porch, a steaming mug of coffee in my hands, as Leo took his "Uncle" on an exhaustive tour of the tide pools. "Look, Tristan! A crab! He’s got armor just like a knight!" Leo’s voice carried over the sound of the crashing waves. Tristan knelt in the sand, completely unbothered by the salt spray ruining his expensive sweater. He wasn't the brooding intruder anymore; he was a man discovering a childhood he had missed out on. Over the last three days, he had been inseparable from Leo. He taught him how to skip stones, how to read a compass, and even the "proper" way to brew a cup of English tea, which mostly involved Leo getting sugar everywhere. Adrian stepped out onto the porch behind me, his arms sliding around my waist. his chin resting comfortably on my shoulder. "He’s good with him," Adrian murmured, watching the two figures on the beach. "He’s a natural," I
The dust hadn't just settled; it had been swept away. The Sterling Group was in a tailspin, their stock price cratering as news of the forensic audit hit the wires in London. Marcus was in custody, and Daniel—the man who had always tried to burn my life down out of spite was finally facing a courtroom instead of a boardroom. The Wolfe Media boardroom felt different today. The air was clear. The directors sat in silence, their eyes moving between Adrian and the man who, only days ago, had been their greatest threat. Adrian stood at the head of the table. He looked revitalized, the weight of the "Ice Prince" persona replaced by a quiet, earned authority. He looked at Tristan, who sat at the far end of the table, his hands folded neatly in front of him. "The Board has reviewed the evidence of the Sterling Group’s interference," Adrian began, his voice steady. "It is clear that this company was targeted by an outside force using internal vulnerabilities. We have neutralized those th
The air at the shipyard was thick with the scent of saltwater and rust. Huge steel shipping containers were stacked like giant colorful blocks, creating a labyrinth of shadows. I sat in the back of a darkened surveillance van with Adrian, the glow from the monitors casting a ghostly blue light over his sharp features. "Tristan is in position," Adrian whispered, his eyes fixed on a graining camera feed. I looked at the screen. Tristan was standing near a rusted pier, his coat collar turned up against the biting wind. He looked isolated, a small figure against the massive machinery of the docks. Marcus appeared a moment later, stepping out from behind a stack of crates. He looked haggid, his usual composure replaced by a twitchy, paranoid energy. "Did you bring it?" Marcus’s voice crackled through the hidden mic on Tristan’s lapel. "I have the drive," Tristan said, his voice remarkably steady. "But I want to know who else is on the payroll, Marcus. I'm not handing over the keys
The morning light poured into the penthouse dining room, turning the crystal glasses on the table into tiny prisms. It was a rare, quiet morning. Adrian was sitting at the head of the table, his tablet pushed to the side for once. He was focused entirely on Leo, who was currently trying to negotiate an extra fifteen minutes of screen time. "Dad, if I finish all my blueberries, can I play that new space game?" Leo asked, his eyes wide and hopeful. Adrian leaned back, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. "The space game involves physics, right? If you can explain to me how the rocket stays in orbit while you eat those berries, we might have a deal." Leo scrambled to grab a blueberry, holding it up like a tiny planet. "It’s gravity! But, like, the fast kind. If you go fast enough, you don't fall down." Adrian let out a soft laugh, reaching over to squeeze Leo’s shoulder. "Close enough for a seven-year-old. Eat up, and we'll see." I watched them from across the table, m
The high-stakes war in the boardroom had left a different kind of electricity humming between us. As the door to the penthouse clicked shut, the silence of the city felt like a world away. We had spent the day fighting ghosts and brothers, but now, the only thing that mattered was the heat radiating between us in the dimly lit foyer. Adrian didn’t wait or say a word. He simply backed me against the heavy mahogany door, his hands framing my face with a possessive intensity that made my breath hitch. The "Ice Prince" was gone, replaced by a man who looked like he wanted to devour me. "Thank you for always standing by me," he rasped, his voice low and vibrating against my skin. "In front of everyone. You didn't blink." "I told you," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I'm not going anywhere." He let out a jagged breath, his lips crashing against mine. It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was a claim. It was the kind of kiss that tasted of relief, adrenaline, and a hunger tha
The drive back to the penthouse was silent. Lena leaned her head against the window, her hand still locked in mine. We had won the battle, but the war had just shifted into a much darker territory. Tristan wasn't a villain; he was a casualty. And in the Wolfe family, we don't leave casualties for the vultures to pick over. "You're going to help him," Lena said, her voice soft but certain. "I'm going to use him," I corrected, though even to my own ears, the 'Ice Prince' mask felt a little heavy. "Sterling & Cross think they have an asset inside our walls. They don't know the asset just found out they were the ones who destroyed his mother." "He’s hurting, Adrian. He’s spent his whole life believing a lie," she said, turning to look at me. "Be careful. A man with nothing left to lose is a dangerous partner." An hour later, there was a knock at the door. I had sent my private security to bring Tristan to the penthouse. I didn't want him in a hotel where Sterling’s people could ge
The drive to the old Brooks textile mill felt like a descent into the underworld. Adrian had forbidden me from coming, his voice colder than I had ever heard it. He wanted to play the lone martyr, the "Ice King" sacrificing himself for the sins of his past. But I wasn't the kind of wife who sat at
The club was called The Vault, a name that fit the people inside. It was a place for secrets, for men with too much power and women with too much blood on their hands. I stepped through the heavy oak doors at exactly midnight, the cold night air clinging to my wool coat like a second skin.The inte
The sound of the ocean was the first thing I heard when I woke up. It was a rhythmic, peaceful thrum that made me want to keep my eyes closed forever. For a few glorious seconds, I forgot about , the contract, and the vultures waiting for us back in the city. Then, I felt the weight of Adrian’s ar
Adrian caught me around the waist as a larger wave hit, pulling me back against his hard chest. We were dripping wet. My white shirt was translucent now, clinging to every curve, and his trousers were soaked through, molding to his muscular thighs. The playfulness in the air snapped. The laughter







