INICIAR SESIÓNThe days that followed became harder than Marilyn expected. Raymond was still there, and that was the problem. If he had travelled again, if he had stayed away from the penthouse, perhaps she could have convinced herself that the distance between them was only because of work. But he was there every morning. Every evening. And every night. And still, he felt far away. At breakfast, Raymond sat across from her with his tablet. “Did Grace send the update about your mother?” “Yes.” “How is she?” “Better now.” “Good.” That was usually where the conversation ended. No teasing. No smile that belonged only to her. And no casual hand reaching across the table. No “love.” Just Marilyn. Always Marilyn. At the office, it was the same, Raymond remained professional. He called her when he needed something, and gave her instructions. He asked for reports. Sometimes their eyes met for a second longer than necessary, and Marilyn would feel hope rise inside her. Then Raymond looked away.
Marilyn noticed changes in Raymond that evening. He came home late. Normally, even when he returned exhausted, the first thing he did was to find her and kiss her. A hand around her waist. And a quiet, “Where have you been, love?” Sometimes he would barely enter the living room before pulling her close. That night, he walked past her with just: “Good evening, Marilyn.” Marilyn stared at him. “Good evening.” Raymond removed his jacket. And the next person he asked was Elizabeth. “How is your mother?” “She’s fine too.” Marilyn replied. “Good.” And that was it. No kisses. No touch. No Nothing. Marilyn stood beside the sofa, watching him walk upstairs. She wanted to believe he was tired. But the next morning proved otherwise. Raymond was already at the breakfast table when she came downstairs. “Morning,” Marilyn said. He looked up. “Good morning, Marilyn.” Again. Just Marilyn. She sat across from him. Raymond continued reading something on his tablet. Marilyn waited fo
Raymond slept on that information and wasn't comfortable. The next morning, his car stopped in front of Ashford International Tower in Landmark City. Daniel glanced at him through the mirror. “Should I wait here, sir?” “Yes.” Raymond stepped out before Daniel could say anything else. He had spent most of the night thinking about Marilyn’s words. About Victor, Isabella, and Richard Hale. He still believed Victor was wrong. But belief was no longer enough. And that irritated him more than anything. Victor’s assistant looked surprised when Raymond walked into the executive floor without an appointment. “Mr. Stewart.” “I’m here to see Victor.” “Mr. Ashford is in a meeting.” “End it.” The woman hesitated. Raymond looked at her. She immediately reached for the phone. A few minutes later, Victor’s office door opened. Victor stood behind his desk, watching Raymond enter. “Well.” Raymond closed the door behind him. Victor smiled. “I didn’t think I would ever see the day Raymon
Marilyn spent most of the following day waiting for Raymond. He had sent only one message that morning. ‘I’ll be home tonight.’ And nothing else. No love, no teasing. No promise about showing her how much he had missed her. Marilyn read the message several times. Something was definitely wrong. By evening, she was already at the Triplex Penthouse. She changed out of her office clothes and waited in the living room. When the private elevator finally opened, Marilyn stood immediately. Raymond stepped out of it. Her heart jumped at the sight of him. For two days, she had imagined this moment. She had imagined running into his arms, his hands around her waist, his kiss, and the way he would tease her for admitting that she missed him. Instead, Raymond walked toward her and stopped. “Hi.” Marilyn’s smile weakened. “Hi.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. And that was all. Marilyn stared at him. Raymond removed his jacket. “How is your mother?” “She’s fine.” “Good.” He
Marilyn returned to Stewart Crown Resorts with Victor’s words still running through her mind. She tried to work. She really did, but every few minutes, her thoughts returned to the same thing. Isabella Stewart might be alive. It sounded impossible. Marilyn stared at the document on her computer without understanding a single sentence. Victor admitted that he could be wrong. He had no photograph, no video, nothing she could actually show Raymond. Only what he claimed to have seen her. And that was what frightened her most. If Victor had come to her with proof, perhaps the decision would have been easier. But how could she call Raymond and tell him that his dead wife might still be alive based only on the words of the man he hated most? Marilyn leaned back in her chair. Maybe she should tell Madison. Then she immediately rejected the thought. Madison had encouraged her to meet Victor because she believed he wanted help making peace with Raymond. She had no idea the conversati
Tuesday morning, Marilyn had already changed her mind about meeting Victor Ashford several times. One moment, she believed it was better to cancel. And the next, curiosity returned. What could the man possibly want to tell her that was so important? She had almost sent him a message early that morning telling him she would not be coming. But each time she tried, Madison’s words returned to her mind. Listening did not mean trusting. That was what finally convinced her. At exactly noon, Marilyn left Stewart Crown Resorts and headed toward the location Victor had sent her. It was a quiet restaurant inside one of the most respected hotels in the city. The place was public enough to make her comfortable, but private enough for people to have conversations without everyone listening. Marilyn stepped inside and looked around. A waiter approached immediately. “Miss Oxford?” She stopped. “Yes.” “Mr. Ashford is expecting you.” Marilyn followed him toward a table near the large window
Merilyn was just out of the elevator. She looked around the ground floor and regrets filled her eyes. Her carelessness has caught up with her. Her career is gone. What was she going to tell her mother now? She walked forward, thinking. Her mother had wanted this career for her. She had worked ha
Marilyn walked back toward her department with heavy steps. The hallway felt longer than it had that morning. When she reached the open area, the atmosphere had completely changed. Heads turned in her direction. Whispers spread quickly across the floor. Even people from other departments seemed to
Raymond Stewart strode into his private office without a word, the hot coffee still soaking through his white shirt and suit jacket. He did not bother to look down at the damage. The ruined clothes meant nothing. His mind was fixed on one thing only: the woman who had just collided with him in the
Two years later. Marilyn Oxford woke up to soft sunlight filtering through the curtains of her small apartment. Today was her first official day at Stewart Global Resorts, the company she had dreamed of joining ever since her sophomore year in college. Her heart beat faster as she climbed out of b







