Category: Billionaire Romance Books

👉 READ NOW

Kyra was seven months pregnant when she realized her perfect marriage was a carefully constructed lie.

As a therapist, she had been counseling an anonymous client who constantly boasted about her wealthy lover and their secret newborn son. It turned out, the lover was Kyra’s endlessly devoted husband, Kieran, and the client was his ex-girlfriend.

While Kieran claimed to be working late to secure a better future for their baby, he was actually at the hospital NICU, tenderly caring for his illegitimate child. He even packaged his secret business merger with his mistress’s family as a loving “gift” for Kyra. Trapped by his flawless lies and lacking concrete proof, Kyra was forced to play the blind, understanding wife, all while enduring her aristocratic mother-in-law’s calculated humiliations.

She couldn’t understand how the man who had built a flawless five-year marriage could be so monstrously deceitful. She was completely isolated in a powerful family that viewed her as disposable. How was she supposed to protect her unborn child when her entire reality was a suffocating trap?

That was until a tense family gathering, where her mother-in-law forced her to act as a servant and deliver tea to Kieran’s terrifying, legendary adoptive brother, Easton Cain. Standing in the dark garden, Kyra accidentally overheard the ruthless billionaire coldly ordering someone’s legs broken. The teacup shattered on the stone floor, and as she looked up in terror, Easton’s predatory gaze locked directly onto hers.

👉 READ NOW

Betrayed By Him, Claimed By His Brother Chapter 1

“He loves me, Doctor.”
The voice coming through Kyra Butler’s laptop was distorted, a raspy, anonymous shield chosen by the client who called herself “Jane Doe.” The video feed was black.
“He’s just trapped in a marriage. And we have a child. A son who can inherit everything.”
The words, laced with a sick sort of triumph, landed like stones in the quiet of Kyra’s Upper East Side home office.
Kyra kept her own voice steady, a practiced calm she used to navigate the turbulent waters of other people’s lives. “And how does that make you feel?”
A dry little laugh crackled through the speakers. “It makes me feel like I’ve won.”
Kyra’s stomach tightened. She was a professional, trained to remain detached, but a wave of nausea, sharp and unwelcome, rose in her throat. She instinctively placed a hand on the swell of her own belly. Seven months pregnant.
“He buys me apartments downtown,” Jane continued, her tone a boast. “He skips boring business dinners for me. He says his wife is… uninteresting.”
Kyra’s heart gave a painful lurch. She guided the session to its professional conclusion, her voice a placid surface over a churning sea of revulsion.
“Our time is up for today, Jane. I’ve scheduled our next session for the same time next week.”
“See you then, Doctor.” The connection ended.
Silence flooded the room. Kyra pushed back from her desk, breathing deeply, trying to dispel the client’s toxic satisfaction. She walked to the window, looking down at the green expanse of Central Park, but the view brought no peace.
Her phone buzzed. The screen read: Leah Foster. Her best friend.
A smile touched Kyra’s lips as she answered. Leah’s energy was always a welcome antidote.
“You’d better be sitting down, honey,” Leah said, her voice a conspiratorial whisper.
Kyra laughed, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “What ghost have you seen now?”
“Jordin Rosario.”
The name was a pinprick, instantly deflating Kyra’s relief.
“She’s back, Kyra.” Leah’s voice dropped lower. “And I swear to God, I saw her pushing a stroller near Lincoln Center.”
The smile on Kyra’s face froze. The polished wood of the floor felt suddenly cold beneath her feet. Her fingers tightened on her phone, the knuckles turning white.
“Jordin?”
“Kyra? Are you okay?” Leah’s tone shifted to concern. “I know she’s ancient history for Kieran, but I just… I thought you should know.”
Kyra took a ragged breath, forcing herself to sound calm. “I’m fine, Leah. Thanks for telling me. It’s all in the past, right?”
But after she hung up, the calm shattered. Two pieces of information echoed in her mind: an anonymous mistress with a secret son, and her husband’s old flame, back in town with a baby.
The thoughts were two parallel lines that refused to intersect, yet they created a dizzying, unbearable static in her head.
She walked into the living room, her eyes landing on the wedding portrait on the wall. Kieran Padilla, handsome and charming, looked at her with eyes full of adoration.
He loved her. Jordin was the past. She repeated it to herself like a mantra.
But the word child was a splinter, lodged deep under her skin.
That evening, the front door opened. Kieran was home. He wore a perfectly tailored Armani suit, his smile as warm and gentle as ever.
He saw her and immediately came forward, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His hands settled gently over her pregnant belly.
“How are my two favorite people doing today?” His low voice rumbled by her ear, laced with a familiar, intoxicating mix of fatigue and affection.
Kyra leaned back against his chest, his familiar scent a temporary balm on her frayed nerves. The anxiety seemed to recede.
He turned her to face him, his gaze soft as he kissed her forehead. “Sorry, I might be late tonight. An emergency project came up at the office.”
Kyra nodded, swallowing the urge to ask about Jordin. She wouldn’t be that wife. The suspicious, insecure wife.
Kieran changed his clothes, gave her another deep, lingering kiss, and left in a hurry.
Kyra stood alone in the vast living room. Outside, the lights of New York began to glitter. The unease she thought had been soothed by her husband’s embrace came rushing back, a cold and relentless tide.

Betrayed By Him, Claimed By His Brother Chapter 2

After Kieran left, the silence in the apartment was deafening. Leah’s words were a heavy weight on Kyra’s chest.
Her hand, moving on its own, opened a drawer in the living room console. Inside was an old photo album.
Her fingertips brushed across a glossy photograph from their graduation at Columbia University, five years ago. They were so young, their faces bright with a future that felt limitless.
Her mind drifted back. She was the star student in medical school; he was the celebrated golden boy of the business program. Everyone knew Kieran had a girlfriend he’d been with since high school, Jordin Rosario. Jordin was beautiful, loud, and another center of attention on campus.
Kyra had been drawn to Kieran’s sharp mind during a joint academic seminar. He, in turn, was fascinated by her quiet, rational charm. Their connection was immediate, but Kyra kept her distance. She wasn’t the kind of girl to get involved in someone else’s relationship.
She remembered telling him so, clearly and firmly. “I won’t be the other woman.”
Kieran’s expression had turned serious. He took her hand, his grip firm. He told her his relationship with Jordin was already broken, that it had nothing to do with her.
The turning point came at a campus party. Jordin had cornered Kieran, her voice shrill with accusations of cheating. The scene was ugly, public. Kyra had watched from a distance, seeing the exhaustion and finality on Kieran’s face.
The next day, he found her. He told her it was over with Jordin. For good.
He looked directly into her eyes, his voice imbued with a sincerity she had never heard before. “Kyra, I choose you. The future I want is with you.”
That sentence became the bedrock of their relationship.
From that day on, Kieran proved his words with actions. He never contacted Jordin again. His world revolved around Kyra. Their love story was celebrated by their friends, perfect in every way, save for the occasional hateful glare from Jordin across campus.
Kyra’s head lifted from the album. She took a deep, steadying breath.
Kieran loved her. He had made his choice years ago. There was no reason for him to go back now.
Jordin returning with a child had to be a coincidence. The child couldn’t be Kieran’s. The timing was all wrong.
She used logic, her most trusted tool, to fight back the tendrils of doubt.
She stood up and poured herself a glass of warm milk, deciding to stop the spiral of her thoughts. She trusted her husband. That trust was something Kieran himself had built, piece by piece, with his past actions.
A pang of guilt pricked her. She was pregnant, her hormones were a mess. Of course she was being emotional.
She picked up her phone and sent a text to Kieran.
Don’t work too hard. Come home soon. The baby and I are waiting for you.
His reply came almost instantly. I will, my love. Back soon. It was followed by a kiss emoji.
A small smile finally touched Kyra’s lips. She chose to believe him.
She turned off the living room lights and went to the bedroom, deciding to take a hot bath to relax. The warm steam enveloped her as she leaned back, her hands once again resting on her belly.
She would talk to Kieran when he got home. Not an accusation, but a calm conversation. She would tell him Jordin was back. She trusted he would give her an explanation that would put her mind at ease.
That faith in her husband felt solid, real. It left her utterly unprepared for the impact that was coming.
She had no idea the bedrock of her trust was already eroded, hollowed out from beneath her.

Betrayed By Him, Claimed By His Brother Chapter 3

The next afternoon, Kyra finished her last handover at the hospital. Her maternity leave was about to begin.
She walked out of the main building and saw Kieran’s black Bentley in its designated parking spot. He was leaning against the car door, a warm smile on his face as he watched her approach.
The sun caught him just right, making him look like a model from a magazine cover. A few young nurses walked by, their heads turning, faint blushes on their cheeks.
A swell of sweet pride rose in Kyra’s chest. She walked to him, and he effortlessly took her bag, opening the passenger door for her.
“Tired?” he asked, his voice soft. He carefully fastened her seatbelt, his fingers gentle around the curve of her stomach.
“I’m okay,” Kyra replied with a smile. Yesterday’s anxieties seemed to dissolve under the warmth of his attention.
Kieran closed her door and walked around to the driver’s side. The car pulled smoothly out of the parking lot.
As Kyra reached to adjust the air conditioning vent, a scent hit her. It was unfamiliar, sweet, and cloying. A fruity, floral fragrance. It was absolutely not her own subtle, woody perfume.
Her hand froze. Her heart skipped a beat.
“What’s wrong?” Kieran asked, his eyes flicking to her from the road.
Kyra’s gaze swept the immaculate interior of the car. Nothing was out of place. She took a slow breath, feigning casualness. “Did you get a new air freshener for the car? The scent is… different.”
Kieran’s fingers tightened imperceptibly on the steering wheel, but his expression remained unchanged. “Oh, that,” he said lightly. “It must be from when I dropped my mother off at the estate yesterday. You know how Beatrice loves those strong perfumes.”
The explanation was seamless. Beatrice Padilla was indeed famous for her dramatic taste and love of heavy, opulent scents.
“Mmm,” Kyra murmured, not pushing further. But her intuition screamed. Beatrice’s perfume wasn’t this. Her mother-in-law favored classic, spicy oriental fragrances, not the sugary scent a younger woman would wear.
A subtle silence fell between them. Kieran turned on the music, a soft jazz melody filling the car.
Kyra leaned back and closed her eyes, pretending to rest. But her mind was racing. The perfume. Leah’s call. Last night’s “emergency project.” The pieces wouldn’t stay separate.
Just then, Kieran’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered it on the car’s Bluetooth.
“Hello?” His voice was calm, but Kyra saw him glance at her in the rearview mirror.
She couldn’t hear the other side, but Kieran’s brow furrowed. “I understand. I’ll be right there. Tell him to wait.”
His tone was clipped, all business.
He ended the call and looked at her, his face a mask of apology. “Honey, I’m so sorry. There’s an urgent situation at the office. An important overseas client just arrived unexpectedly. I have to go back right now.”
As he spoke, he was already signaling to make a U-turn at the next intersection.
“I’ll drop you home first, then I have to head over. It might be another late night.” His voice was filled with regret.
Kyra looked at him. His expression was flawless, sincere. What could she say?
“It’s okay,” she said softly, forcing herself to sound like an understanding wife. “Work is important.”
He pulled up to their apartment building and leaned over to give her a quick, hurried kiss. “Be good. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.”
Kyra nodded, unbuckled her seatbelt, and got out of the car.
She stood on the sidewalk, watching the black Bentley execute a sharp turn and merge back into the flow of traffic, disappearing around the corner.
A cool breeze blew past, and Kyra pulled her coat tighter. The sweet, cloying scent of the perfume seemed to linger in the air around her, a ghost she couldn’t shake.

👉 CONTINUE READING

👉 READ NOW

I was in a one-year contract marriage with Blake, a powerful hockey star. I played the perfect, quiet wife while he still pined for his ex-girlfriend, Sophie.

On the night of our anniversary, I got a frantic call from the care home. Sophie had visited my grandmother, taunting her with intimate photos of her and Blake, and deliberately provoked her into a fatal heart attack.

When I confronted Blake at the hospital, he shielded a crying Sophie in his arms and coldly accused me of lying. He didn’t care that my only family was dead. Instead, he used his immense wealth to erase the care home’s security footage and threatened the only witness, a poor nurse, into changing her story. He even forced me to move back into his penthouse to maintain his public image, letting Sophie parade around my home.

When Sophie faked a fall to frame me, Blake got hurt trying to catch her. He glared at me with pure disappointment.

“Apologize. To her.”

I stared at the man I once thought I loved, my grief and despair solidifying into a cold, hard hatred. How could he demand I apologize to the woman who murdered my grandmother?

I didn’t cry or beg. I walked up to Sophie and slapped her across the face with all my strength.

Then, I secretly met with Blake’s biggest rival to make a deal. I would stay in Blake’s golden cage, but this time, I wasn’t the prisoner. I was the hunter.

👉 READ NOW

The Unwanted Wife And Her Ruthless Revenge Chapter 1

Emilia POV:
The single candle flame flickered, dancing in my eyes.
On the table sat a perfectly cooked steak, garlic mashed potatoes, and asparagus. A bottle of expensive red wine I couldn’t really afford was breathing on the counter.
Three years.
Our third wedding anniversary.
I glanced at my phone. Blank screen. No messages. No missed calls.
In three years of a PR contract marriage to Blake Sterling, captain of the Chicago Blackhawks, I should have been used to the silence. But a stupid, stubborn part of me still hoped.
My phone lit up, and my heart jumped into my throat. An unknown number. Maybe this was it. A surprise he’d arranged.
I swiped to answer, my voice a little too breathless. “Hello?”
“Is this Ms. Emilia Hayes?” a cold, professional voice asked. “This is Chicago General Hospital. Your grandmother, Eleanor Hayes, is in critical condition. We need you to come immediately.”
My fork slipped from my fingers, landing on the plush rug with a dull thud.
I grabbed my keys, my purse, and ran.
The drive was a blur. The city lights smeared across my windshield like wet paint. I turned on the radio, needing a distraction from the panic clawing at my throat.
“… exclusive! Chicago Blackhawks captain Blake spotted tonight at Gibson’s, dining with his former flame, model Sophie Price. Sources say the two were incredibly close, sparking rumors that the old romance is back on…”
My hand flew from the wheel and slammed into the dashboard. Pain shot up my arm, but it was nothing compared to the ice flooding my veins.
My husband.
On our anniversary.
While my grandmother was dying, he was with his “true love.”
I burst through the emergency room doors, the scent of antiseptic and fear making my stomach clench. Maria White, the nurse who cared for my grandma, was pacing near the entrance, her face streaked with tears.
“Emilia, you’re finally here!” She grabbed my arm, her hands trembling. “About an hour ago, a Miss Sophie came to visit. She and Eleanor were in the room and they argued…”
Before she could finish, the doors to the trauma unit swung open. Dr. Wright emerged, pulling off his surgical mask with a weary sigh.
He looked at me and shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Hayes. We did everything we could. The patient suffered a massive, sudden cerebral hemorrhage. We were unable to revive her.”
The sounds of the hospital faded into a dull, buzzing hum. My grandmother. The only family I had. The person who adopted me and gave me life.
Gone.
“No,” I whispered, grabbing the front of Dr. Wright’s scrubs. The fabric twisted in my fist. “That’s impossible. She was fine this morning. Why would this happen?”
“The patient’s blood pressure spiked to a catastrophic level,” Dr. Wright explained gently. “It’s usually triggered by severe emotional distress.”
Severe emotional distress.
My head snapped toward Maria.
I stumbled over to the nurse, my hands gripping her shoulders. “What did Sophie say to my grandmother? Tell me. You have to tell me everything.”
Maria flinched, her eyes wide with fear. “She… she said you’d never be a real Sterling. That Blake was going to divorce you and marry her.”
“She told Eleanor, ‘You old bitch, you’ll get to watch your precious granddaughter get thrown out on the street,’” Maria sobbed, repeating the words.
Every syllable was a hammer blow to my heart.
It was Sophie. She killed my grandmother.
My hand was shaking so hard I could barely unlock my phone. I dialed the number I knew by heart. It rang and rang, finally clicking on the sixth ring.
“Emilia?” Blake’s voice was laced with impatience. I could hear faint laughter in the background. A woman’s laugh.
I forced my own voice to be steady, devoid of the hurricane raging inside me. “Blake. My grandmother is dead.”
A pause. Then, “I’m sorry to hear that, Emilia. I’ll have my assistant handle the arrangements.”
“Sophie agitated her,” I said.
His tone shifted instantly, becoming defensive. “Emilia, don’t be ridiculous. Sophie was just being kind, paying a visit.”
A laugh escaped my lips, a broken, ugly sound. “Kind? You’re with her on our anniversary, Blake, and you’re telling me she’s ‘kind’?”
“Our marriage is a contract, Emilia. Don’t forget who you are,” he said.
That single sentence murdered the last shred of warmth I had for him. I ended the call.
My phone buzzed again. A push notification from TMZ.
The headline was a punch to the gut: “Blake and First Love Sophie Check Into Hotel, Is The Golden Couple Finally Back Together?”
The accompanying photo showed them from behind, walking into the Peninsula Hotel, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist.
I looked at the picture on my phone.
Blake. Sophie.
I swear, I will make you pay in blood.

The Unwanted Wife And Her Ruthless Revenge Chapter 2

Emilia POV:
I walked out of the hospital, got in my car, and drove straight to the nearest police precinct.
Inside, the air smelled of stale coffee and bureaucracy. An officer named Davis listened to my story with a practiced look of sympathy on his face.
I laid it all out, my voice flat and controlled. I accused Sophie of intentionally causing the emotional distress that led to my grandmother’s death.
“Ms. Hayes, I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said, clicking his pen. “But words, even cruel ones, are very difficult to prosecute as manslaughter or murder.”
“There was a witness,” I insisted. “A nurse. And there are security cameras in the hallway.”
He nodded, making a note. “We’ll look into it. Leave us your contact information, and we’ll be in touch if there’s an update.” He handed me a business card.
I walked out of the station into the blinding afternoon sun. I knew this was just a formality.
I drove to the penthouse apartment that was, in name only, our home. The housekeeper, Mrs. Finch, met me at the door, her eyes full of pity.
“Ma’am, I am so sorry…” she began.
I just shook my head and walked past her, heading straight for the study.
Blake was there, sitting behind his massive mahogany desk. He was still in yesterday’s suit, setting down his mobile phone as I entered. He looked at me with a blank expression as if he’d been waiting.
I slapped Officer Davis’s business card down on the desk. “I’ve filed a police report.”
Blake didn’t even raise an eyebrow. “The precinct commander calls me the moment a Sterling enters their doors,” he said coldly. “I’ve handled it.”
A cold dread washed over me. “Handled it? What does that mean?”
He picked up the phone on his desk, dialed a number, and put it on speaker. “Officer Davis, Blake here. Regarding my wife’s report from earlier…”
The respectful, almost fawning voice of the same officer came through the speaker. “Mr. Sterling, not to worry. We checked the hospital’s security footage. Unfortunately, the camera outside your grandmother-in-law’s room happened to have a malfunction late last night.”
My blood ran cold. A “malfunction.” How convenient.
“And as for the nurse,” Blake continued, his icy blue eyes locked on mine, “I believe she may be reconsidering the accuracy of her statement.”
“You threatened her?” I whispered, horrified.
“I merely reminded her that in this city, saying the wrong thing can be very costly,” he said, as if discussing the weather.
A wave of fury washed over me. I lunged across the desk, my hand raised to slap his arrogant face, but he caught my wrist in a grip of steel. His strength was terrifying.
“Emilia, don’t act like a lunatic,” he said, his brow furrowed in disgust.
Just then, the study door opened.
Sophie walked in, wearing one of Blake’s white button-down shirts. Her hair was damp, and a smug, triumphant smile played on her lips.
“Blake, honey, I can’t find the hair dryer…” Her voice was sweet as poison. She feigned surprise when she saw me, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, Emilia. You’re here. I’m so, so sorry to hear about your grandmother.”
She was wearing my husband’s shirt. In my home. Apologizing for a death she caused.
It was the sickest joke I’d ever heard.
I wrenched my wrist from Blake’s grasp, my gaze slicing across Sophie’s face.
“Get out of my house,” I said, my voice dangerously low.
Sophie immediately shrank behind Blake, her shoulders trembling. “Blake, she’s scaring me…”
He moved to shield her, positioning his body between us. “Emilia, that’s enough. Sophie is my guest.”
“A guest?” I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “A guest who spends the night and wears the host’s clothes?”
Blake’s face darkened. “I’m telling you again, this ends now. Sophie is innocent, and I will not have you harassing her.”
“Innocent?” I pointed a shaking finger at her. “She’s a murderer! And you, Blake, you’re her accomplice!”
A flash of impatience crossed his eyes. He reached into a drawer, pulled out a document, and tossed it on the desk in front of me.
It was a contract. A termination addendum to our prenuptial agreement.
“You should calm down and think about how to end this with some dignity,” he said, his voice a final, chilling verdict. “Instead of acting like a madwoman.”

The Unwanted Wife And Her Ruthless Revenge Chapter 3

Emilia POV:
I stared at the cold, legal document on the desk, then at Sophie, who was nestled against Blake’s side like a contented cat. The last embers of affection I might have held for him turned to ash.
“Blake is right, Emilia,” Sophie said, her voice soft, but her eyes gleaming with victory. “You’re making a scene. We’re all sad about your grandmother, but you can’t blame innocent people.”
I ignored her. I picked up the document and flipped through the pages. My lawyer and I had prepared for this day for over a year.
I reached into my own bag, pulled out a much thicker folder, and dropped it on the desk with a satisfying thud.
“No need for yours,” I said. “I have my own.”
Blake and Sophie both stared. My document was twice as thick as his, filled with red-penned notes and highlighted clauses.
“According to our PR agreement, the end of the three-year term, which was yesterday, was the natural expiration date of the contract,” I stated calmly. My voice was quiet, but it cut through the silence of the room.
“As the hired party, I have the right to decline renewal. This is my notice of termination, along with a detailed invoice for the compensation owed to me, as stipulated in the contract.”
Blake picked up my folder. His blue eyes scanned the pages, his brow tightening with every line he read.
Sophie leaned over his shoulder. When her eyes landed on the staggering figure in the compensation section, her face went pale.
“That much money? Emilia, you’re so greedy!” she blurted out, forgetting her sweet and innocent act entirely.
I smirked. “It’s what the contract stipulates, Ms. Price. Unlike some people, I only take what I’m owed.”
Blake put the document down, his gaze complex. “You’ve been planning this.”
“I’m always prepared to leave a place I don’t belong,” I said, meeting his eyes without flinching.
He was silent for a long moment, then gave a curt nod. “Fine. I’ll have my lawyers contact yours.”
He had agreed.
I didn’t want to spend another second in that room. I turned and walked out, not giving either of them a backward glance.
Back in my bedroom, I started packing. The room was filled with expensive things Blake had bought me, gestures to maintain the public image of a happy marriage.
I didn’t touch any of them. I packed only my own clothes and the few precious mementos my grandmother had left me.
Mrs. Finch came in, her eyes red, and quietly helped me fold a sweater. “Ma’am, are you really leaving?”
“Thank you for everything these past three years, Mrs. Finch,” I said, giving her a quick, firm hug. “But I have to.”
Dragging my single suitcase out of the opulent penthouse felt like shedding a heavy, suffocating skin. For the first time in three years, I could breathe.
I didn’t go to my old apartment. I checked into a suite at The Langham. I needed a neutral, secure space to plan my next move.
After making some initial calls for my grandmother’s funeral, I was exhausted, hollowed out. I decided to go to the hotel bar for a drink.
I changed my clothes and stepped into the elevator. Just as the doors were sliding shut, a hand shot out, stopping them.
The doors opened again to reveal Blake and Sophie. The relaxed expressions on their faces froze the instant they saw me. Sophie, clinging to Blake’s arm, cut off her giggling mid-laugh, and in its place came a fleeting flash of surprise in both their eyes.
She dressed to the nines for a night out.
The small space instantly felt airless. I pressed myself into the corner, turning my face away, pretending they weren’t there.
But I could feel Blake’s eyes on me, a heavy, scrutinizing gaze.
The elevator stopped at the VIP floor. They stepped out, heading toward a private lounge called “The Captain’s Deck,” reserved for elite athletes.
As they walked away, Sophie glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes flashing with provocation. She whispered something in Blake’s ear, and he actually smiled.
I stood frozen in the elevator, watching them disappear through the lounge doors. The fire I’d been trying to bank down roared back to life.
They thought I was gone, so they could just celebrate?
The doors started to close.
I jabbed the button for the same floor.

👉 CONTINUE READING

👉 READ NOW

BLURB
Disowned for choosing his passion over the life his foster parents planned for him, Damian is left with nothing but his talent and a gnawing fear that it won’t be enough. When a friend offers him a place to stay in his father’s extravagant mansion, Damian allows himself to hope-just a little-that this might be his way back on his feet.
Then he meets Nickolai.
Nickolai is powerful, attentive, and unsettling in the way he sees straight through Damian’s defenses. He offers help, connections, a future Damian has only ever dreamed of-but the price is intimacy Damian isn’t sure he’s ready to give. The line between opportunity and desire blurs, and loneliness makes the choice harder to refuse.
Caught between wanting more and wanting him, Damian gives in. What starts as an agreement slowly turns into something deeper, more dangerous.
Unspoken feelings linger, guilt settles in, and a secret from their shared past-one Damian has tried desperately to forget-threatens to surface.
As attraction grows and the stakes rise, Damian must decide how much of himself he’s willing to lose for love, ambition, and survival. Because some secrets don’t just ruin careers… they break people.

👉 READ NOW

Daddy’s Little Secret Chapter 1 Silence

Damian’s POV

 Silence stretched taut across the room, a moth could be heard once it flapped its wings across the room.

The food that was prepared by my mother tasted bitter in my mouth. Something that hardly ever happened.

My mother was a splitting image of my brother. Olive skin. Blue eyes and hair that could pass as a bright red colour.

 Every cutlery clutching against the porcelain plates created goosebumps that travelled across my skin. My father focused on his newspaper, using his left hand to guard his paper and the other hand to eat his food.

I sighed silently. “How was England?” They went there for a conference that my dad held for all the doctors across the country. I couldn’t go there because of work at the hospital. My mum looked up from her food, smiled at him.

That was a beautiful way of telling me she enjoyed the trip. My dad’s eyes still focused on the paper, he nodded his head.

Mum finally spoke up. “It was a beautiful conference.” She paused, as she dropped the cutlery against the plates.

“Your dad did a great job setting a conference for every medical personnel.” She continued. “It was a beautiful moment.” “Wasn’t it, darling?” She asked.

 I nodded along with my dad, unbothered by what was happening.

Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead even under the cold room. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words to my parents. I looked between my parents and my brother, whose main concern was the food that was served to him.

The time was ticking…

 One…

Two…

“I can’t do it anymore,” I blurted it out. My parents’ eyes darted across the table from where I sat.

 My mother raised her eyebrows at me. I looked at her, as fear danced across my face. This time, everybody’s attention was focused on me. My mother stared at me, waiting for answers. “I can’t go back there again.” I answered.

“Do what?” She asked.

As three pairs of eyes stared into my soul. “I want to start drawing,” I explained further. My mother was too stunned to speak, so she allowed my father to talk.

My father’s emerald eyes started to harden as he asked. “What will happen to your medical career?” I turned my eyes away from him, staring at everything in the room except my parents. “I’m going to put an end to it.” I said, feeling foolish for my choice of words

There was tension in the air, lingering around the room. My brother dropped his fork and looked at me.

My mum’s olive skin paled and the tightness with which she held her cutlery started to shake.

“Why?” My dad’s voice echoed around the silent room. I laughed bitterly. This wasn’t a question they should be asking me.

My dad ran his hands through his hair creating a wave over his forehead. My mum pulled herself together, straightening her shoulders.

She chuckled. “Stop saying nonsense. We are all eating.” My eyes flickered over my dad who digs back into his food without bother.

My mum’s usual demeanour was back. I pinched my palm under the table this time, before speaking. “I’m not saying nonsense. I can’t continue.”

My mother’s jaw tightened. “I have tried so long to tell myself I could do it.” “But I’m torturing myself cause I don’t love it…”

“Stop it now, Damian” she runs her fingers against her temples.

 “Don’t give me a migraine, please.” I screwed my eyes shut, regaining myself for the worse that’s about to come. “But it’s the tru-”

My mother begged me as her shaky voice stirring something deep across my chest. “Stop it now, will you?” I opened my eyes. “We can’t keep hiding this for a long time. It’s making me so unhap-”

“Enough.” My dad slammed his paper on the table, making me shiver from the cold that had started to settle in. “What will happen to the hospital pass over that we organised for you?”

My dad’s firm tone shot at me. “Who will take over the hospital?” he asked once again. I avoided his eyes. I couldn’t be so bothered about the hospital.

Someone better could take the offer. Except that someone else wasn’t me.

“Nola-” “Don’t you dare” my mother stopped me right before I could complete my statement.

Nolan, my brother was the golden child. I was the one made for the media. I was the one made to suffer so they get whatever they had worked for. I couldn’t do it again.

 Not anymore. Not again. Drawing was not just a thing of passion, but also a talent.

I could see everybody’s emotions through them and outline them on a paper. That was me. That was who I was.

My mother held her chest, as her eyes started to dim.

“Get out,” my father roared, sending a warning laced beneath his calm tone.

Nolan watched this unfold perfectly but, he couldn’t utter any word. Not like he was allowed to. I stood up abruptly. “I’m sorry I wasted all your effort.”

My mother strained her eyes at me. “You wasted our time as well.”

Tears gathered behind her eyes. “We took you in.”

Here we go again.

A lecture about how they were the only ones that helped me while life was dealt with me a lot. My dad growled at me.

My mum looked into my eyes. “All Nolan did was make us happy.” She paused. “But with you, it’s a pain I can’t bear on my own.”

A pain so sharp hit my chest as I looked at her. “I was not yours to begin with,” I spoke, almost loudly.

 She opened her mouth slightly, her eyes widening, while my father’s hands landed hard on my cheeks from across the table. I took in the sting of the slap.

My jaw tightened. My father spoke his final words. “Get your things and leave my house, you ungrateful son of a b**ch.” I looked between him and my mother whose face screamed an approval.

“Thank you, Father” I said politely.

 “Till we meet again.”

Daddy’s Little Secret Chapter 2 Homeless

Damian’s POV

 As soon as I reached the room, I picked up my phone. I needed a place to sleep tonight. I packed a few things, Nolan slowly helped me, silently folding clothes and handing them to me like he knew words would only make this harder.

I picked up my bag and left through the back door without informing them. I grabbed my coat, my hands trembling slightly. I was ready for this. Or at least I kept telling myself I was.

 I walked out through the gate, leaving behind the only car that I had once loved and cherished-the one my parents gave me when I entered medical school. I walked out of the house for the last time, leaving behind the house I had spent most of the beautiful memories I had after staying at a foster home for some time. I sighed, the sound heavy and broken.

 I walked through the streets of New York, looking for a cab I could hail hoping to get to the best hotels that were available.

 As everyone passed through the street. I couldn’t bring myself to think about all the things I would do to prove my parents wrong.

The clouds began to darken, just as doubt started to settle in. As I flagged a cab who stopped almost immediately. I opened the door and slid inside.

 “Good day,” I greeted quietly. He responded with a nod. “Take me to a hotel far away from here,” I begged, my voice barely above a whisper.

 He glanced at me through the mirror and drove off without asking questions. “Bad day uh?” He asked gently. I nodded, afraid I would completely break down at that moment. He looked through the mirror and chuckled softly.

The rest of the ride fell into silence until we reached the hotel. I handed him the money and walked straight into the hotel.

 At the reception desk, I forced a smile at the lads whose face flushed slightly the moment she saw me. “Good day. I’d like to book an exclusive room,” I said.

She battled her eyelashes, as she checked the prices on the laptop. “That would cost you $500 per night,” she replied.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my card. She took the card and swiped it through the machine.

It beeped.

Her expression changed instantly.

 She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry….your card has been declined.” I raised my eyebrows at her, fear slowly start to creep in.

My chest started to beat rapidly. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I had enough money on that card to last me a month.

I ran my hand across my hair, my foot tapping uncontrollably against the floor. “Could you try it again?” I asked, my voice strained.

She swiped it again-this time faster.

It beeped once more. She looked at me with pity. A look that I hated more than anything. “It’s still the same.”

My parents had gone that far. They froze my card. I had nowhere to go. I was alone and all I had left was the $50 in my wallet that could barely buy me a burger and a drink.

I knew I needed help; a shelter just for this night. And I knew exactly who to call. Derek.

 I dialled his number just immediately. His voice sounded tired as he answered on the phone. “Where are you?” He knew something was wrong.

I gave him my address. “I’ll meet you there. Just stay right there,” he said. The moment the call ended. I struggled to breath.

I pressed my fingers into my chest. I hardly called anyone for help. This was something I wasn’t built to do. But tonight, I had no choice.

****

Few minutes later, Derek was here.

“It’s okay”, he assured me. We got into the car and we went home. So many thoughts filled my mind as I thought of what my parents had done.

This night was gone already. Tomorrow is a day to get ready and start putting out proposals. Derek interrupted my thoughts.

 “I was just leaving the hospital when you called,” he pressed the wheel of the car.

I heaved a heavy breath. “With the look of things. I was sure that did not go well with them,” he continued.

I nodded my head abruptly.

“You can stay at my place till whenever you get back on your feet.”

I shook my head slightly. I couldn’t leech on him because of my stupidity.

 “You can have a room to yourself,” he said, immediately reading my mind. Where was Derek staying? He had more than one room. He must be staying with his parents too.

“My dad hardly comes home because of work.” He held the wheel tightly.

“So you have nothing to worry about.” I sighed deeply, feeling grateful for having him to stick around.

In no time, Derek got to the front of his house… mansion.

The building stood elegantly beautiful as the cream colour displayed its specialty. Derek laughed at me seeing the way I was too stunned to speak.

“It’s nothing” he chuckled, while he turned off the ignition. This was something. It was bigger than my foster parent’s house.

“Let me carry your bags for you.” He grabbed the big bags. “There are no maids in this house.”

***

“This is your room” Derek took me to the last room by the right upstairs.

The bed was bigger than my bed at home. It had enough space for my artworks. I wish I could stay here forever, but I had to leave and do some things for myself. I needed to find a way to get my talent.

Everyone needed to see me. And I wasn’t going to bound myself just because my parents don’t want me to become an artist.

 He dropped the bag and tapped my shoulder. “Just freshen up and come downstairs. I’ll fix us something to eat.”

He shut the door slightly, while I drowned in the seas of my thoughts.

Daddy’s Little Secret Chapter 3 First meeting

Damian’s POV

 FOUR WEEKS LATER

 I had been in my room since I arrived. Derek knocked on the door several times before leaving for work.

Today was an exception- he was still standing outside the door. “Open up,” he nudged me, his thick accent echoing around the empty mansion. I walked over and pulled the door open.

He stood there in his scrubs battered and tired, exhausted, dark circles forming beneath his eyes.

 “How have you been?” He asked softly, touching my shoulders, squeezing gently against the shoulder bone.

 I pushed my hair back and ruffled it. It had been weeks-weeks of trying to map out every single thing, uploading my artwork on countless sites for people to notice and buy.

 But, there was nobody to buy. Nobody was getting it. I looked down, unable to meet his eyes. I felt I was staying for way too long.

 He understood. “I brought us some meals.”

“Let’s go and eat,” he moved away, walking towards the stairs.

 I slipped a shirt over my body. And went downstairs, this time taking in the designs of the exclusive mansion.

 The railings on the staircase took a beautiful ancient design. I couldn’t get my eyes over every single design, the chandelier stood magnificent in the middle of the big room. We got to the dining and pulled the chairs so we could silently eat.

 Each arrangement reminded me of home. We all sat down to eat together. We waited for everyone to get back before we eat dinner.

 I had not received any calls since I got here. Nobody reached out to me, including Nolan.

They were serious about it and I had already made up my mind already.

 Derek picked up the bowl of creamy broccoli and stilton and carefully poured them into his plate. “I just called the restaurant to cook us something very nice,” he said silently. I put a spoon of creamy broccoli and Stilton into my mouth, relishing the taste of the beautiful soup.

It tasted better than home.

The rich taste of the soup slid beautifully in my tongue. I shut my eyes tightly.

 “Do you like it?” Derek asked, carefully studying my face.

 I nodded slightly.

 As we silently devoured each of the foods that was brought. Derek stood up immediately, checking the time on his wristwatch. “It’s time to go” I nodded, with foods in my mouth.

 “Take care of yourself,” he spoke. I finished the food and picked every plates and utensils to get them washed.

 I rinsed them thoroughly placing them in the dishwasher.

 A loud, rich baritone voice came from outside the mansion. “Derek,” the smooth voice called from outside.

Was Derek’s brother here to see him ?

My heart raced. “Derek,” the voice called from outside, this time a little angry.

I left the plates and walked towards the door to meet the person and see who he was.

I opened the door slowly, preparing myself for the humiliation that could come after. “Der-” he stopped abruptly, seeing that I was a totally different person than his brother.

He walked towards me slowly.

My breathing rapidly increased. “Who do we have here?” He spoke, his cinnamon rich scent wafting and filling the whole place.

I opened the door properly so he could enter inside.

My lips quivered, afraid to speak.

His presence filled the empty mansion. He had a confidence you could mistake for pride. His hands kept firmly in his pocket, he moved towards me shutting the door behind.

“Derek did not say a word to me about his visitor.

“Did he?” He asked. I stuttered. “He… I…m so sorry”

He arched his eyebrow.

He looked more muscular than Derek. His broad smile played on his lips. His shirt stretched across his broad chest leaving a few buttons to expose his hair.

I just wanted to trail my hands over his abs.

 He was the most handsome man I had ever seen.

 He smiled lightly. “Just kidding. I’m Nikolai. Derek’s Dad.”

Derek’s Dad???

 He looked younger than Derek. I stared into his eyes.

My words refused to spill out of my lips. I was too careful with my words. Careful I was going to say something to upset him.

 I bowed my head slightly. “G…oo day Mr sokenvji” He nodded his head slightly, stretching his hands forward.

“Call me Nickolai instead.” “Thank you, Mr…Nickolai” I thanked him.

 His beauty captivated me in ways I couldn’t explain. His black suit complimented his deep blue eyes like the sea. I just wanted to stare deep into his eyes.

 “Nice chest by the way” he said, making my cheeks flush. I stared at him. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

 I hadn’t noticed when Derek came into the house. He cleared his throat.

The timer on the dishwasher dinged caused a whole distraction to the whole tension that was already created. “Dad,” Derek faced his dad immediately, ignoring the tension between the two of us.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming. I just forgot something and I thought I should come back,” he said, watching between me and his dad.

I turned away quickly and walked into the kitchen, while my ear lingered into their conversation.

“This is my house, remember?” He joked lightly, his gaze never fully left me.

 “I forgot something and decided to come back.” Derek’s eyes moved between us.

 “I see you’ve met Damian already.” He paused.

 “Not properly,” His dad answered, causing my thighs to tremble.

The way he looked at me-like he could see through me.

 And that made me feel

Vulnerable.

Exposed.

Seen.

Afraid he was going to point out my insecurities, afraid and it made me feel seen.

And that terrified me. “Damian,” Derek called, pulling me back into reality.

“I’ll be leaving now,” he said gently. “And I apologize about my Dad,” he smiled.

 I nodded quickly and stepped away, moving towards the kitchen.

His voice followed. “See you soon.”

 I froze for a second , before walking away finally. It wasn’t until I got to my room, closing the door behind me that I realised I had been holding my breath the entire time.

And I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid of him. Or the fact that part of me wanted him to come back.

👉 CONTINUE READING

👉 READ NOW

Ashley’s heart gave out while her husband watched fireworks with his mistress.

For five years, she had poured everything into their marriage, working herself ragged for a man who saw her as little more than a live-in maid.

Only when death nearly claimed her did the truth finally hit. Remembering who she used to be, Ashley returned once again as an untouchable heiress, conquered high society, and left the powerful scrambling for her favor. Even her remorseful ex dropped to his knees.

Then a cold, commanding man pulled her against him and swept the crowd with an icy stare. “She’s mine.”

👉 READ NOW

While I Was Dying, He Watched Fireworks With Her Chapter 1 Patrick, I Want A Divorce

An ambulance sped through the streets of Aleford.

“Your coronary artery is severely blocked,” the paramedic said to Ashley Cooper. “You need an emergency bypass operation. Is there someone we should call for you?”

The urgency in his voice barely reached Ashley through the intense pressure crushing her chest.

“We’ve contacted the person listed for emergencies,” another paramedic said. “Tell him to get to the hospital as soon as possible.”

Clutching her chest, Ashley brought the phone closer. Every breath was shallow, and speaking took effort. “Patrick… They found a serious blockage in one of my coronary arteries. I need emergency bypass surgery. Can you please get to the hospital? They need you to sign consent forms.”

“Stop it!” Patrick Cooper, her husband, snapped. “You seriously expect me to believe this? Making up something this ridiculous just to force me to see you is pathetic. I’m not dropping everything and rushing over there.”

“Patrick…” Ashley’s voice trailed off.

As the ambulance drove past Aleford’s largest public square, flashes of light filled the window. Fireworks exploded across the night sky in brilliant bursts, bright enough to sting her eyes.

A moment later, Jolie Webb’s cheerful voice sounded through the phone.

“Patrick, thank you for the birthday fireworks! You’re so sweet!”

Ashley froze.

Jolie had been Patrick’s first love, the woman he had never truly forgotten. She had returned from overseas only recently.

Suddenly, Patrick’s refusal made sense. He was not too busy to come to the hospital. He was celebrating Jolie’s birthday.

A fresh stab of pain ripped through Ashley’s chest. Her breathing became even more difficult, and tears rolled silently down her cheeks.

Since they got married five years ago, she could not remember Patrick ever giving her a genuine smile.

She would spend hours cooking the dishes he liked most, hoping to please him. His response was always restrained and detached. “Not bad.”

Once, when Patrick had been sick with a high fever, she stayed awake the entire night. By the next day, exhaustion had left her ill as well.

Patrick had shown little concern. “At least you know how to fulfill your responsibilities as my wife,” he had said.

She had lost their baby, yet Patrick’s face had remained unreadable. “We can have another one.”

He had barely even looked in her direction.

Every year on her birthday, Patrick claimed work had made him forget. His solution was always the same: transfer three thousand dollars to her account and tell her to buy whatever she wanted.

Her best friend had even questioned why she continued to stay with him.

Patrick possessed more money than most people could imagine, yet he treated his wife’s birthday like another obligation he could settle with a payment.

Money, however, had never been what Ashley wanted from the Cooper family. She had only wanted Patrick to love her.

For that reason, she had even agreed to hide their marriage for five years. The Cooper family knew she was his wife, but beyond them, their marriage did not officially exist in anyone else’s eyes.

Now, with unbearable pain spreading through her chest, Ashley finally saw their marriage clearly. Patrick’s treatment of her had never been about generosity or money. He simply had never loved her.

The pain became unbearable, and everything around her slowly slipped into darkness.

Through the fog settling over her mind, Ashley heard one of the paramedics yell toward the front of the ambulance. “Go faster! She’s crashing. We can’t wait for her emergency contact anymore. The hospital will have to proceed under emergency authorization.”

“What happens if the surgery goes wrong?” another voice asked, trembling with panic.

“We save her life first!”

The voices surrounding Ashley faded into an indistinct hum. A sudden, searing pain shot through her head, and memories she had lost years ago rushed back all at once.

Everything returned to her.

She was from the Edwards family, one of the four most influential families in Aleford.

Ashley had no idea how much time had passed while she was unconscious.

When she finally opened her eyes, heavy bandages were wrapped around her chest. She managed to lift her head a little and noticed the visible relief on the faces of the doctor and nurses standing nearby.

“Thank goodness you’re awake,” the doctor said. “The bypass surgery was successful. You’ll need to stay away from strenuous activity for about a month, but we expect you to recover fully.”

After giving her the necessary instructions, he shook his head and added quietly, “I still can’t understand how we couldn’t reach even one member of your family before performing such a serious operation.”

Ashley’s face was drained of color, and her eyes remained swollen from crying. “Thank you, Doctor.”

She understood clearly that without his intervention, she might not have survived.

The doctor assured her that gratitude was unnecessary. Keeping patients alive was simply part of his responsibility.

Ashley spent the next two weeks recovering in the hospital. Throughout, she kept waiting for Patrick to call. She thought he might eventually call and ask where she had gone.

For two full weeks, no call came. Not even a single message.

What did appear constantly on her phone were reports about Patrick and Jolie.

“Cooper Group CEO Purchases Luxury Yacht for Celebrated Artist Jolie Webb.”

“Billionaire Executive Showers Girlfriend Jolie Webb With Rare Artwork and Expensive Jewelry.”

Each new headline displayed just how much Patrick was willing to do for Jolie.

And the realization hurt each time.

Once she was discharged, Ashley returned home.

She had only just walked through the entrance when Patrick appeared. Without warning, he caught her by the wrist and pushed her against the wall near the console table.

“Where the hell have you been for two weeks?” he asked in a dark, dangerous voice. “Did you run off with another man just because I wasn’t giving you enough attention?”

The force of his grip sent pain through Ashley’s healing chest. For a moment, she felt close to losing consciousness again.

Patrick moved to kiss her, but Ashley quickly turned her head aside. The smell of cigarettes lingered heavily on his breath.

“You’ve spent every day with Jolie,” Ashley said, fighting to keep her tears from falling. “So why does it matter to you where I’ve been?”

This time, she did not shrink away from him.

Patrick caught her chin and forced her face back toward his. “You’re still my wife, Ashley,” he said. “Don’t forget that. I’m warning you to know your place and stay faithful to me. If you don’t…”

His other hand moved beneath her skirt, touching her without tenderness or consideration, as though humiliating her was the entire point. His desire was unmistakable, and he did nothing to conceal it.

Patrick had never loved her.

While she had been undergoing heart surgery, he had been arranging fireworks for the woman he had never managed to forget. After she disappeared for two weeks, his first concern was whether she had been with another man.

She could no longer see any reason for everything she had endured.

Patrick’s touch became more intrusive. A quiet sound escaped her before she could suppress it, and humiliation immediately washed over her.

She had finally reached her limit. Her body remained weak and pale, but her decision was firm. She lifted her hand and struck Patrick hard across the face. “Patrick, I want a divorce.”

While I Was Dying, He Watched Fireworks With Her Chapter 2 We Honestly Believed You Would Never Return

A dark look settled over Patrick’s face. “You want to divorce me?”

He grabbed Ashley by the throat and tightened his grip. “Have you actually been cheating on me? You used to stick to me like glue no matter how often I tried to push you away, and now you’re suddenly asking for a divorce?”

His fingers pressed harder. Ashley’s face slowly turned purple as she fought to speak.

“P-Patrick… Isn’t Jolie the only woman you’ve ever loved?” She managed to speak. “Once you divorce me, the two of you can finally be together.”

Hearing Jolie’s name, Patrick eased his grip before finally letting her go.

“So we’re back to Jolie again,” he said with irritation. “I’ve told you she’s nothing more than a friend now. Quit letting your jealousy turn her into a target.”

Ashley dropped heavily to the floor, desperately drawing in air. Her heart surgery was still recent, and the struggle had left her chest throbbing with pain. She clutched it while trying to steady her breathing. “A friend?” she rasped. “The sort of friend you sleep with?”

Patrick’s tone became icy. “I know you resent Jolie, but keep those accusations to yourself. If you ever confront her and humiliate her, our marriage won’t last much longer.”

Ashley took out the divorce agreement she had signed at the hospital and tossed it at his feet. “Perfect, because I don’t want this marriage anymore. You give me $20, 000 a month and expect me to handle every household expense with it, yet you can spend $50 million on fireworks for the birthday of the woman you love. I’m not living this way anymore.”

By the time she stopped speaking, her breathing had become labored again. She stayed down until the pain eased, then grabbed the console by the doorway and slowly hauled herself upright.

Her eyes were swollen and red, yet there was no hesitation in her decision. “Our marriage ends here, Patrick.”

She turned and opened the door.

Patrick’s frigid voice came from behind her. “If you leave through that door, Ashley, don’t expect another chance with me. Five years ago, you were a helpless woman with no memories. If I hadn’t taken you in, you wouldn’t have the life you’re living now.”

Ashley felt her chest constrict with pain.

Five years earlier, a car accident had wiped her memory clean.

With no idea who she was or where to go, she had wandered the streets alone. Before long, she had drawn unnecessary attention.

One day, several street thugs trapped her, ripped at her clothes, and tried to rape her.

Patrick had arrived at the critical moment. His bodyguards chased the men away, and to Ashley, he looked like the person who had saved her.

He later proposed that she marry him, explaining that it would silence his family’s constant pressure for him to settle down.

Having no memories and no one else to rely on, Ashley treated Patrick as her only lifeline. She eventually fell for him and accepted his proposal without a second thought.

From then onward, she molded herself into the wife she thought he wanted—quiet, obedient, and easy to please, taking care of his household more like a servant than an equal.

Ashley staggered out of the house and straight into the downpour.

The icy rain washed away the final remnants of her confusion. For the first time in years, she could finally see her life clearly.

She refused to become that exhausted housewife again, wasting her days serving Patrick and waiting for him. She was Ashley Edwards, and she was finally going to take her life back.

Ashley entered a number that had been buried with the memories she lost in the accident.

The instant the call went through, a woman’s emotional voice came over the line. “Ashley? Is that really you? Where have you been all this time? I’ve looked everywhere for you.”

Guilt washed over Ashley. Holding back her tears, she murmured, “Mom, I’ll tell you everything once I get there. For now, I just want to go home.”

Eileen Edwards could barely hide how much she had cried. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll have someone come for you immediately.”

Ashley had finally recovered all her memories.

Ashley’s true identity was far greater than simply being an Edwards. She was Starlight, the famous painter who had kept her real name hidden from the world.

She was finally returning to take back the life that had been stolen from her.

Eileen’s driver reached her shortly afterward.

By the time Ashley arrived at the Edwards family’s residence, her parents had already hurried outside to receive her.

“Ashley, you’re really back,” Eileen cried, tears streaming down her face. “We’ve missed you terribly.”

Steven Edwards had always been a tough and resolute businessman, yet seeing his daughter again left even him unable to hide his tears.

Ashley pulled both of them into a tight embrace. “Mom, Dad, I’m so sorry.”

For five years, she had remained in the same city as her family. She had paid no attention to the outside world. Instead, she had stayed home, looking after Patrick and his parents. That was why her parents had failed to track her down despite their years of efforts to search for her.

She couldn’t help feeling that she was partly responsible for all those wasted years.

She was preparing to explain the truth when another voice suddenly broke into the emotional reunion. “Mom, Dad, is that my sister?”

Ashley’s head jerked toward the speaker.

Not far away stood a young woman who looked delicate and harmless. Her neatly styled hair framed her shoulders, while her gentle features made her seem like someone who had been carefully sheltered from the world.

The girl tilted her head curiously. “You’re Ashley?”

Ashley couldn’t understand why a stranger was standing so naturally in her home.

The young woman introduced herself through her actions before Eileen could say anything, stepping closer and affectionately taking Eileen’s arm.

Eileen gently patted Leanne’s hand before explaining, “Ash, this is Leanne, your younger sister. When you disappeared five years ago, your father and I were completely broken. We couldn’t accept that you were gone, so we adopted her. She’s been a wonderful daughter and has stayed by our side all these years.”

For several seconds, Ashley could do nothing but stare at them in disbelief.

While she had been struggling through life without even knowing her own identity, her parents had filled the empty space she left behind with another daughter.

Steven shifted awkwardly before speaking. “We honestly believed you would never return. Leanne helped us through the years when we had almost nothing left to hope for.”

Ashley’s heart ached. His explanation stirred that old, bitter feeling of being replaced.

A flash of resentment crossed Leanne Edwards’ face, but she quickly covered it with a pleasant smile. “I’m really happy that you’ve come home. There’s just a little problem. Mom and Dad gave your old bedroom to me, so you’ll probably need to use a guest room. But if having your old room matters that much to you, I can move out and return it to you.”

Eileen’s face brightened. She was clearly pleased by what she saw as Leanne’s willingness to give way.

Ashley’s lips curved into a humorless smile. “Keep it. I’ve never been interested in anything that’s already been handed down to someone else.”

Rather than getting angry, Leanne remained perfectly composed. She picked up a glass, filled it with water, and held it out to Ashley with the same innocent smile. “You must be exhausted after traveling this far. Here, have something to drink.”

Then, without warning, the glass tilted in Leanne’s fingers.

“Oh!” She cried out in surprise as the water splashed over Ashley, soaking part of her clothes.

While I Was Dying, He Watched Fireworks With Her Chapter 3 I’m His Fiancée Now

“I’m sorry, Ashley. The glass slipped from my hand,” Leanne said carefully, as if she were afraid Ashley might punish her.

After all she had endured, Ashley could see through the act immediately.

“It’s okay.” She stepped toward the table, grabbed the pitcher of water, and poured the entire thing over Leanne’s head. “Don’t worry, Leanne. We’re even now.”

Leanne let out a sharp scream.

Water drenched her completely, leaving her looking much more miserable than Ashley, whose clothes were only wet in one spot.

Tears instantly filled Leanne’s eyes as she rushed into Eileen’s arms. “Mom, I was truly happy that Ashley came home. Why would she treat me like that?”

Standing between her two daughters, Eileen was at a loss. But after five years of raising Leanne, her instincts naturally made her take her side. “Ashley, don’t be so hard on Leanne. She simply lost her hold on the glass. She meant well.”

Steven also spoke up. “Leanne didn’t mean to do it.”

Seeing both of her parents immediately defend Leanne hurt Ashley deeply.

She had spent five years wasting her life on a man who was never worthy of her, while her parents had given the love that should have been hers to the daughter they had brought home in her absence.

The hurt was nearly unbearable.

She had only just returned and had no desire to quarrel with her parents, so she simply responded, “I’m tired. I’ll go get some rest.”

A hint of triumph flashed through Leanne’s eyes, but she quickly covered it with a hurt expression. “Does Ashley despise me? Is that why she’s upset with you too? This is all because of me. I shouldn’t have taken her place.”

Eileen’s heart immediately softened. “Sweetheart, this isn’t your fault. Ashley lost her memory and spent years living on her own. She must have gone through a lot, so it’s normal for her to be more sensitive now. Once you spend more time together, she’ll come to care about you.”

Leanne obediently nodded. “I’ll try my best to make Ashley like me.”

Eileen reached out and gently stroked her hair.

Ashley said nothing else and walked into the guest room. By then, the pain inside her had turned into numbness. She pulled out her phone and called her closest friend, Mina Webb. “Mina, is your offer to open a gallery together still available?”

Mina’s voice immediately brightened. “Ash, you finally agreed! I have passes for an auction at Diadem Auction House. We can go together and see if there’s anything that would suit the gallery.”

“Okay,” Ashley said softly.

The following morning, Ashley was getting ready to leave for Diadem Auction House to meet Mina when Leanne called out to her.

“Ashley.”

Ashley looked at her coldly. “What?”

Leanne smiled sweetly. “You probably feel like a stranger in this house now. But you should understand that, in Mom’s and Dad’s eyes, I’m the Edwards heiress. You were gone for years, and they’ve already come to regard me as their daughter. So don’t think you can ever rival me.”

Eileen and Steven had gone out early that morning to handle some matters at Edwards Group. With no one else present, Leanne no longer bothered pretending to be innocent.

Ashley was just about to answer when a man’s cold voice came from outside. “Why would she have to rival you?”

Ashley turned around and saw a remarkably handsome man walking toward them. He wore a black suit and gold-rimmed glasses, and the calm authority he carried made him seem intimidating.

It was Colton Harrison, her fiancé and the boy who had been her greatest rival while they were growing up.

Why was he standing up for her?

Leanne’s face lit up the moment she saw him. “Colton, what brings you here?”

She quickly walked over, slipped her arm around his, and looked back at Ashley with a proud smile. “You probably don’t know this yet. After you disappeared, Mom and Dad agreed that I would marry Colton instead. I’m his fiancée now.”

Ashley kept her expression calm, but Leanne’s words still struck somewhere deep inside her.

Had Leanne taken everything that was supposed to be hers?

To Ashley’s surprise, Colton withdrew his arm from Leanne’s hold. His deep, lazy voice turned cold. “When did I ever agree to marry you, Leanne? Ashley is the woman I intend to marry.”

👉 CONTINUE READING