Semua Bab Sinfully His: Bab 1 - Bab 10

I scroll through my Instagram feed, feeling my heart sink as I take in the posts. The venue—an opulent ballroom in the heart of the city—glitters under the soft glow of chandeliers. Every detail, from the lavish floral arrangements to the perfectly aligned crystal glasses, screams elegance and perfection—just as I envisioned and organized. I’ve spent weeks prepping for this day, ensuring that everything would be perfect, up until the fateful night a week ago.Now, I stand on the balcony of the adjoining building, a safe distance from the entrance, my eyes fixed on the scene below. It’s a grand affair, the kind of event that commands attention, and tonight, Mike is in his element.From my vantage point, I can see the throngs of people arriving, mingling, and exchanging polite pleasantries. They’re the sort of people you’d expect to see at events like this—high-powered businessmen, socialites, and even a few celebrities who grace the occasion with their presence. Everyone seems to be en

“I think you should attend this event, Nat,” Meera, my personal assistant-turned-friend, says over the phone. “It’ll be a good distraction from the Mike drama,” she continues, clearly hoping to convince me. But I know all too well the questions I’d be bombarded with if I showed up.For the last two weeks, no one has cared to ask me about anything except my husband. They shamelessly beg for all the juicy details of our upcoming divorce, and honestly, I can’t even blame them. I’m the one who brought it into the public eye. Although, it was Mike’s video message that pushed me over the edge. Or maybe it was the whiskey.I don’t care anymore.Mike can burn in the deepest pits of hell for all I care. It’s almost funny now—how he didn’t even bother hiding the fact that he was cheating. All those weeks of avoiding me, throwing out lame excuses about work—I was so blind.Blind in love. Pathetic.All I want now is to disappear until the drama dies down—if it ever does—and enjoy a few peaceful d

While my intention is to kiss him softly, I should’ve expected him to be rough. Ric’s lips crash into mine, with a raw intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. Before I know it, he has lowered me to the couch with a swift move of his hand. His other hand slides up my thigh, slipping beneath the silk robe. I can feel my breath quicken, my heart pounding, as he takes control, and I let him. I’m melting into the couch, his fingers trailing higher, confident and commanding. I’m losing myself to him completely. And I’m liking it.But then, as his hand reaches for the knot of my robe, ready to undo it, a sharp thought slices through the fog in my mind—Is he married? The question slams into me, stopping everything. My body tenses, the heat I feel stalling, and Ric notices. His lips pause, his hand freezes on my chest just as I was about to tease myself, his fingers barely grazing my skin.“Do you want me to stop?” Ric’s voice is low, rumbling with restraint. His breath is hot against my

Up until the moment I step out of the car, my heart pounds in my chest with uncertainty. What if I can’t pull this off? What if all of this is a mistake, and I end up doing more harm to myself than to Mike? What's the point of any of this? My phone buzzes again, lighting up with an incoming call from Mike, and I scoff. The man who has dodged me like the plague ever since I exposed him has been incessantly calling me for the last two days, since my dad left my penthouse. His texts insist on “discussing what to say to the interviewers,” but there's no mention of an apology. Not even a hint, no. I guess Mike has fully morphed into his businessman persona, where the only thing that matters is what’s good for his image. Emotions and feelings? They don’t exist in his world.I was his wife, wasn’t I? I still am, legally speaking—he hasn’t even signed the divorce papers yet. How foolish of me to believe, even up until three weeks ago, that this could be fixed. That we could be fixed. I had c

I step out of the greenroom, running my hands down the fabric of my gown, trying to fix my look. I can't look like I was about to get laid backstage. The distant hum of the event feels like white noise, almost soothing compared to the whirlwind of the last few minutes. For a second, I let myself breathe, steadying the rush in my chest. But it’s short-lived. The moment I spot Meera hurrying toward me, her face a mask of disbelief, I know my brief escape is over.“Nat?” Her voice is low, almost like she’s afraid I might disappear if she speaks too loudly. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you nonstop!” Her words are laced with both worry and frustration, but I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. She has no idea.“I threw my phone in the bin,” I reply with a casual shrug, as if it’s the most reasonable thing in the world. “Didn’t feel like dealing with Mike tonight.”Meera’s eyebrows shoot up as she stares at me, her eyes flicking down to the bouquet in my hands. Her