THREE YEARS LATER MORGANA FOSTER On that morning, everything seemed quiet as I arrived at the mansion. After two years, I returned, feeling a shiver run down my spine as I gazed at that enormous door. I took a few deep breaths before turning the handle, pondering if this was truly a good decision. I had inherited this house from Grandpa Burke when I married his grandson in that crazy contract, but I never wanted to stay here. Living on campus during college and maintaining minimal contact with my paper husband never sparked the desire to dwell within these white walls. I only wore my wedding ring at family gatherings and events where I had to accompany him, keeping up appearances of a happy and stable couple. I never considered the possibility of living with him, and he never approached me about it. We even tried to make the fake marriage seem real in the first year to appease the family, which led to me staying in the city apartment during the initial months. That didn't work out

MORGANA FOSTER A thin ache throbbed in my chest. Hearing the word 'divorce' coming from his mouth hurt much more than reading it in the document. I felt my eyes welling up, looking down, blinking a few times to dispel the tears before they fell right there. Why had I fallen in love with him when he treated me with no tenderness? There was no love or affection, just a play of smiles during visits and important gatherings. I wouldn't appear sad about it; I had promised myself that he wouldn't see me crying because of him. Not after all the nights he spent away with "sweet Elena." After an eye roll, I cleared my throat and responded: “I know it will be all right.” I sighed and glanced to the side; I needed to be strong. “Tomorrow, I will sign it. Excuse me, I have to pack my things.” Then I stood up from the couch with a bitter and disdainful smile, marching toward the kitchen. Ryan raised an intrigued eyebrow, and I could feel his gaze following me all the way. I knew he didn't expec

RYAN BURKE "Why the hell is everyone now looking at and praising Morgana?" I thought, feeling that twinge of jealousy burn in my mind. In recent years, I had been negligent. I didn't visit her, nor did I bother to find out how she was doing. Not even on the day of her father's funeral. Elena had a problem that day and was in the hospital, and I was with her. So I accompanied her, but made sure I left Morgana well-supported with all the resources possible. "Enough with the compliments for my wife, Stefan," I said, squeezing his shoulder forcefully and maintaining a smile. "You're making her embarrassed." She kept her eyes down and the smile shy, while all attention was directed at her. This behavior was unusual, even for her. "Are you getting jealous, cousin?" "Where's my beloved granddaughter?" My grandfather called; I heard Mr. Burke's voice as he entered the room. Morgana's eyes sparkled like crystal when she spotted the elderly man entering the room. My grandfather, Mr. Julia

RYAN BURKE After Morgana left, I looked at the papers on the table and leafed through them. She had actually signed. My heart had a brief twinge of pain and I didn't understand why the feeling. I wanted the marriage to end for a long time, and I only married that woman because of her father's illness, which, after a while, sensitized my heart and made me continue in my grandfather's foolish contract. Now there was a reluctance within me to sign back and get rid of her. What was wrong now, then? She wasn't a terrible wife. In the first year we were married, she didn't impede my goals, nor did she intrude on my relationship with Elena, so understanding. She even cooked some things that I liked. I felt a bit like a jerk for having a relationship outside of marriage, but since it was only a nominal marriage, I felt a little better as time passed. I always went out with Elena to dinners and private parties, causing no big fuss, otherwise, my grandfather would kill me. Since Morgana did

MORGANA FOSTER Everything seemed normal when we arrived at the nightclub. The sound was loud and the lights were flashing. People were dancing in some places. I rolled my eyes around the place, not spotting them."Where are they?" I asked, turning to BethanyShe stretched her neck into one of the reserved areas of the club and spotted the group of doctors sitting in a reserved area, my eyes following her all the way."Got it!" she said, pulling me by the hand across the room.They smiled at us, so we made our way there, asking the dancers in the middle of the dance floor to excuse us."Ladies!" John Nardek, the heart surgeon, was the first to greet us. John was 1.87 meters tall, with black hair, brown eyes and a plump, velvety mouth. He was wearing a white shirt, light blue jeans and a black leather jacket that outlined his slender body.This was the first time he had made a greeting outside the formal.He raised a glass of beer in a friendly greeting, "Welcome!""Hello!" we replied t