MasukAcross the city, inside her once-pristine penthouse, Tina Ackley sat alone on the cold marble floor of her living room. The space was in ruins—broken glass scattered like ice, a shattered vase against the far wall, overturned decorations, and cushions ripped open in a fit of rage. She had barely slept. Her makeup from the gala was still smeared beneath her eyes, dark streaks cutting through her pale cheeks. Her hair was a tangled mess from the countless times she had dragged her fingers through it in frustration. Everything had gone wrong. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the faces from the gala—the disgust, the judgment, the whispers slicing through the air like knives. “She tried to hurt Cassienne.” “She’s jealous.” “She’s obsessed.” Tina covered her ears, rocking slightly. “Stop it!” But the voices only grew louder inside her head. Her breathing turned ragged as fresh tears burned her eyes. Then, without warning, she screamed. The raw sound tore through the pen
Morning sunlight spilled softly into the master bedroom of the Tremont mansion as the bathroom door finally opened. A cloud of steam escaped, carrying the scent of Cassienne’s favorite lavender body wash. Then Dreston walked out with her wrapped securely in his arms, a thick white towel draped loosely around her body. Cassienne laughed softly, her damp hair falling in dark waves against her bare shoulders as he carried her toward the bed like he had no intention of letting her go anytime soon. “DT,” she protested between giggles, “put me down.” “No,” he replied calmly, voice still rough from earlier. Cassienne shook her head, already familiar with that tone. “You are impossible.” “And yet,” Dreston murmured as he lowered her gently onto the mattress, careful with her growing belly, “you still married me twice.” That made her laugh again—bright, unrestrained, and perfect. God, he had missed that sound so much. He leaned down and pressed a slow kiss to her shoulder, then rested h
“On your side, baby,” he said softly, helping her roll so she faced away from him. He spooned behind her, one arm sliding beneath her neck, the other wrapping around to cradle her belly. The position kept all pressure off her stomach while letting him press flush against her back. He notched the thick head of his cock at her entrance and pushed in with one long, careful glide. They both groaned. She was so wet, so hot, so tight around him that his vision blurred for a second. He stilled once he was buried to the hilt, letting her adjust, kissing the nape of her neck, her shoulder, the shell of her ear. “You feel like heaven,” he rasped. “Missed this. Missed you squeezing me like this.” He began to move—slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged his cock against every sensitive inch inside her. Each thrust was measured, powerful but tender, the angle perfect for hitting that spot again and again. His hand slid down to circle her clit in lazy strokes, syncing with the rhythm of his hi
Morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of the master suite, filling the room in soft golds and warm ambers. Cassienne was still deep in sleep, her body curled on her side beneath the silk sheets, one hand resting protectively over the gentle swell of her belly. Pregnancy had softened her edges in the most beautiful way—her skin glowed, her breasts were fuller and heavier, and even in repose she looked like a goddess carved from moonlight and desire. Dreston lay beside her, propped on one elbow, his eyes tracing every line of her face as if committing her to memory all over again. He hadn’t slept much. How could he, when she was finally here, warm and real and carrying his child? The last weeks apart had been torture. Now she was back in his bed, and the sight of her made something beautiful uncoil low in his gut. Her lashes fluttered. Those blue eyes opened, hazy with sleep, and found him instantly. A slow, sleepy smile curved her lips. “DT?” she whispered, voice husk
Dreston leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes for a brief moment. The exhaustion was clear on his face now. For days, he had forced himself to stay calm and follow a plan he already hated. But tonight had changed something inside him. Watching Cassienne almost fall because of Tina had shaken him badly. If he had reacted even a second later, she could have been hurt. Their baby could have been hurt. And he could not forgive himself for that. When he opened his eyes again, they settled completely on Cassienne Rhodes. “I cannot stay away from you anymore, Cass,” he admitted quietly. “It is torture.” Cassienne looked at him without interrupting. She could hear the sincerity in his voice. Dreston was not pretending now. He was too exhausted for that. “I am calling off the engagement,” he continued. “And I am announcing our marriage publicly. Whatever this costs us, we will face it together.” He paused briefly before adding, “I also got new information. Tina is not the real
Later that night, Cassienne Rhodes was about to leave with Corren Thornwyck when someone suddenly grabbed her wrist. She stopped immediately and turned around. “What happened?” she asked. Dreston Tremont did not answer her right away. His gaze moved past her and settled on Corren instead. Then he smiled faintly. “Mr. Thornwyck,” he said calmly, “I do not think I properly thanked you for saving my wife the other day. You are truly a good friend to the family.” Cassienne’s eyes widened instantly. Wife? Why would he say that here? Corren looked equally confused, though he hid it better. “I only did what any sane man would do,” he replied. Dreston nodded slowly. “And I appreciate it,” he said. “But if you do not mind, I would like to take my wife home now.” Before Corren could speak, Cassienne stepped in quickly. “Dreston, you do not have to call me your wife anymore—” “You are my wife,” Dreston cut in immediately. His tone was calm, but firm enough to stop her. “Nothing has cha
Dreston sat in his executive chair, his posture relaxed but guarded, his back pressed firmly against the leather as his arms folded across his chest. His gaze never wavered from the man seated opposite him. Jeffrey Sandler. A name that carried weight, Influence, and danger in the tech world. J
The tension in the conference room was tight enough to suffocate everyone in the room. The tantrum stayed between Dreston, Tina and Cassienne. No one was speaking now. The matter had taken a new turn and Dreston wanted answers. Then, suddenly, the door opened. Steve, Dreston’s assistant, stepped
At NEROX Technology, the atmosphere inside the executive conference room was high with anticipation. Jeff Sandler sat at the head of the long, polished table, his posture relaxed but commanding. Around him, several top executives occupied their seats, laptops were open before them, notepads ready
Cassienne followed Corren’s gaze, her brows knitting together in faint confusion. The door had been left slightly ajar, and now it was fully open. Standing at the entrance was Joseph Tremont, Dreston’s father, his tall frame rigid, his face carved into an expression as hard and unreadable as ston







