Fragment Of Time

She was his stepdaughter by law… but his temptation by fate. A contract marriage_ A stepfather who should be off limits. But when the sparks fly between them, pretending isn’t enough. She’s drawn to him in ways she can’t explain, and he’s trying hard to resist. But desire is a powerful thing—especially when tied to a past they never knew they shared. Can they keep their hands to themselves, or will their forbidden temptation destroy everything?

“Are you crying?" She shook her head and wiped at her face as more tears were falling. “I’m so stupid.” she groaned. "Now I am truly and utterly alone. If I had just said yes to marrying him, none of this would’ve happened. I wouldn’t have dragged you into this mess.” Without warning, I turned sharp to the side, putting the car to a sudden stop close to the curb. “Don’t ever say that again. You think marrying a man you don’t love, a man who doesn’t care if he hurts you, just to please your family is the right thing to do?” I turned to her slowly. “That would’ve ruined you.” “But I would’ve had a home to go to, I would’ve been taken care of. Now I have nothing,” she looked away. I reached over and gently took her bruised hand in mine. “You did the hardest thing anyone in your position could have done. You saved yourself. That takes more guts than standing there and pretending to be happy.” I tucked a hair behind her ear. “You think you are alone? You’re not… you have me.” ___ Alina Etienne has always lived a life dictated by her parents. She is groomed to be an obedient daughter, a perfect public image, and now, a bride to a man she doesn’t know or love. On her wedding day, crushed by the weight of expectations, Alina does the unthinkable... she says “I don’t” and flees the altar. On the run and scared with nowhere to go, she crosses paths with Mikhail Antonov. A cold, guarded man with a past he doesn’t talk about. What began as a reluctant act of kindness turned into something neither of them expected.

When I was waiting for Theodore at City Hall from dawn to dusk, he was accompanying his first love on a hike. I called him dozens of times, but he rejected my calls instantly each time. He finally picked up on the twentieth call. "Why are you blowing up my phone when you simply didn't see me for a day? Why are you acting so desperate? Sammy's feeling unwell because of her heart and I still need to take care of her at the hospital. We'll talk later about registering our marriage." Ten years of love. This was the 100th time Theodore had left me alone in front of City Hall for his first love. I hung up and calmly tossed the wedding ring away. This marriage? I was done with it.

Lena Clermont fell hard for her dad's friend, Andrew Rohan—twelve years older. The first time she saw him, he was all sharp suits and broad shoulders, effortlessly standing out. He smiled, patted her head, and handed her a princess dress. Fast forward to twenty. He got drugged at a banquet. She wore that same dress, offering herself as the cure.

Copper, named after her grandmother, was told to her face that she was the black sheep of her family. She got into fights, hang out with the bad crowd, and had the biggest crush on a teacher. However just when her parents couldn't take it anymore, a driver appeared outside of her school and informed her that her grandfather, the richest man in their city, and a man she'd done her best to forget about, wants to reunite. Kenny Greenland refused every woman his parents brought to marry him. Fed up with his folks, he made a deal. He would only marry the grandchild of his master, knowing full well that his master didn't have grandchildren. However, to his surprise the most dashing young lady he has ever seen claims to be his master's grandchild. She whispered, "Keep your promise, darling." From family conflicts, to poisonous rivals, outside forces were happy to stop the union of two powerful families, but they don't know who they're messing with. Whoever tried would live to regret it.

My parents made Dana and me settle it with rock-paper-scissors. Loser had to marry the Baillieu heir—the so-called "freak." I won. Then flipped the script. "Cool. I'll take Blake. Dana can have the empire." Last time? I was dumb in love with Michael—Dad's adopted golden boy. Chose the company, stayed behind, and handed Dana off to Blake Baillieu. Big mistake. Six months in, Dana was gone—wrecked by that marriage. Right before she croaked, she texted Michael blaming me. Said I lost the game and ditched the deal, dumping Blake on her. Michael? Snapped. Dude went full psycho. Turns out, he and Dana had been sneaking around for years. He dragged me behind the Baillieu estate and forced a dozen intellectually disabled men to assault me. "If it weren't for your cruelty, Dana would still be alive! You'll pay for everything she suffered!" I was over eight months pregnant—almost due. Begged him to stop. Begged for my baby's life. He didn't care. Kept ordering them to take turns. Even when my water broke, he just watched. Both my baby and I died that night. Now? I'm back. And this time, I rewrote the story. Step one: marry Blake.

On my 22nd birthday, my uncle Scott discovered my diary. After he found out about my secret love for him, he sent me overseas. He then spent hundreds of thousands, marrying the love of his life.

My husband's first love posted a video on her social media. In the video, the two of them were passing a playing card with their lips. When the card fell, their lips met in a kiss. They didn't stop—lost in the moment, they kissed passionately for an entire minute. Her caption read: [Still the same clumsy piggy! PS: Steve's skills are as good as ever!] I quietly liked the post and left a comment: [Congrats.] The next second, my husband called, yelling at me furiously, "No other woman is as dramatic as you! I was just playing a game with Lanie. Why are you acting crazy again?" It was then that I realized seven years of love meant nothing. It was time for me to leave.

When Yelton Group tanked, their CEO and his wife showed up at our door, begging for a marriage alliance. My dad, thinking I was still head-over-heels for Rosie after ten freaking years, threw a million into their sinking ship and signed me up to marry Rosie. Wedding night? She blindfolded me and kept whispering how bad she wanted it. A month later, I tested positive for an STD. Then I caught her bragging to her friends. "Quinn got wrecked by, like, a dozen girls," she laughed. "Wanna guess who gave him the infection?" Her friends were cracking up. "I scouted all the grossest red-light spots," one said. "Each one's got a different flavor." "Just wait," another giggled. "When the symptoms hit hard, we'll know who wins." Rosie added, "Prize money's ready. Soon as we figure it out, she gets paid." That's when it hit me. It wasn't Rosie in bed that night—it was a lineup of strangers she set up. I lost it. Went straight to her, demanded answers. She didn't even flinch. "Mad? Please. If you hadn't dangled that million to force me into this marriage—or scared Caleb off—do you think I'd waste my time on you? "Once Caleb forgives me, you're done." I asked for a divorce. She locked me in the basement. "Chill," she said. "We're still placing bets on who gave you the STD." Six months later, I died down there. Just rotted away. Then I woke up—right back on the day her parents came begging for that deal. Only this time, on the wedding day? She was the one crying.

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.