Semua Bab Once Upon a Marriage : Bab 71 - Bab 80

Jennifer The amber light of dawn streamed through my penthouse windows, casting long golden bars across the polished oak floors. My assistant had left an arrangement of fresh lilies by the balcony, their perfume heady in the still morning air. I stared out at New York' s waking skyline from the living room, cradling a cup of dark roast coffee in my manicured hands.I should have felt satisfied. My latest collection had sold out within hours, my name was on every billboard, and Lucian’s company shares were rising with my brand attached to them. But none of it mattered. Because underneath it all, Eloise’s name still flickered like an inextinguishable flame.She was gaining traction again.I scrolled through my tablet, my fingers flying across the screen as I scoured comments on the fashion influencer reels. They gushed about “Eloise’s raw, authentic designs” and her “emotional textures that speak to real womanhood.”My throat tightened with bitterness. Emotional textures. They were my

Jennifer I stared at the black screen of my phone, the dim glow of my bedside lamp casting an orange halo across my silk sheets. The quiet hum of the AC filled the silence, but it didn’t soothe the chaos tearing through my chest. My pulse thundered so loud it echoed in my ears. Lucian hadn’t called back. Not since last night when he kicked me out of his penthouse, leaving me humiliated and trembling in the elevator, mascara streaking down my cheeks as I clutched my purse like a lifeline. I thought of his eyes, cold, distant, almost empty, as he’d told me to leave. It wasn’t rage or disgust that haunted me. It was that emptiness. That blankness that said I don’t see you anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the sting of fresh tears. No. I refused to cry for him again. I refused to let Eloise win this game. She was always lurking in his mind like an unkillable parasite, festering and rotting everything I Jennifer worked for. Even after she stole some of his company shares, even

Henry Morning came quickly. I leaned back in my leather chair, scrolling through the contract proposals for the new textile import expansion. My coffee sat half-drunk, cooling beside a neat stack of acquisition reports. I had barely slept the night before, caught between conference calls with Seoul and finalising a property purchase in L.A. I was halfway through an email draft to our tax consultants when my secretary buzzed through. “Sir, Ms Jennifer Sinclair is here to see you.” I paused, blinking once, twice, before clicking my pen shut. We didn’t schedule a meeting though…. “Jennifer Sinclair?” “Yes, sir. She says it’s important.” A small sigh escaped my lips as I rubbed the bridge of my nose. What could she possibly want now? Lucian’s name instantly flickered in my mind, bringing a frown to my face. “Send her in.” The door opened moments later, and there she was, clad in a fitted beige dress with gold buttons trailing down her torso, accentuating every curve. Her blonde

Jennifer The sharp scent of sandalwood diffused through my penthouse, mingling with the cloying sweetness of the leftover Merlot in my glass. The evening lights of New York City glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.I sat curled on the white velvet couch, legs tucked under my thin silk robe, my phone balanced on my thigh. My thumb scrolled relentlessly through Instagram, the glow of the screen harsh against the darkened room.Every influencer. Every lifestyle blog. Every fashion curator.They were all reposting Eloise’s new brand deal announcement with Fauné Maison and Vivienne Leclerc.My chest tightened so violently I thought my ribs might shatter. My pulse thudded behind my eyes, vision blurring with rage. The caption blinked before me:“From heartbreak to haute couture. Eloise Sinclair’s breathtaking resilience lands her designs in Fauné Maison’s upcoming Parisian lookbook. #Resilience #FashionIcon”Resilience. Fashion icon. Heartbreak. As if her suffering was some kin

Jennifer I didn’t bother knocking. I threw open Lucian’s office door so hard it slammed into the adjacent wall with a reverberating thud that made his assistant jump. Lucian was standing by his floor-to-ceiling windows, phone pressed to his ear, staring out at the city skyline with that same vacant, distracted look he’d been wearing for weeks. He turned slowly, his expression hardening when he saw me. He ended the call without a word, dropping the phone onto his polished mahogany desk with a clatter. “Jennifer,” he said in that low, clipped tone that always made my blood heat – with both rage and want. “What is it?” I shut the door behind me and strode across the room, my black Louboutin heels thudding against the Persian rug. My reflection flashed in the glass windows as I approached him: sleek hair pulled into a flawless twist, black silk blouse tucked into an ivory pencil skirt, red lipstick bold against my pale skin. Perfect. Powerful. Everything Eloise never was. “How dare y