But just as I took a step, a woman's voice pierced the air from inside Regan's office. I froze, my heart skipping a beat, then seemed to stop altogether, as if time itself had paused in that agonizing moment of realization. Every instinct within me screamed to flee, to escape the inevitable pain that awaited me. Yet, despite the overwhelming urge to run, something compelled me to turn around, my eyes narrowing as I faced the trembling secretary."Who is inside?" My voice was cold."No one, Ma’am. Please, just ignore it and leave."Her pitiful expression only fueled my resolve. "Move.""Ma’am, please, just go back later. I swear no one—""I said step aside."Reluctantly, she bowed, her trembling hands opening a path for me to pass.Without hesitation, I pushed past the secretary, my hands trembling as I reached for the door handle. With a deep breath, I pushed it open.As I entered the room, my worst fears were realized in an instant. Zarina stood before me, her cheeks flushed, and her

Tonight, I wore my best dress—a sleek, black satin maxi dress that hugged my figure perfectly, accentuating my graceful silhouette. The dress had a plunging neckline and a slit up the side that added a touch of elegance and allure. My dark, wavy hair cascaded down my shoulders, framing my face softly. I meticulously painted my lips a bold shade of red, a striking contrast against my fair skin.I sat in the corner of the restaurant, the glow of candlelight forming shadows across the tablecloth. The ambiance was romantic, but my heart was still heavy with dull ache. After my breakdown, I went back to the mansion like nothing happened.I’ll stay with Regan, with my husband no matter what. That’s what I decided three years ago.I wore my best dress and painted my lips a bold shade of red like always.This restaurant held a special significance for me—it was where Regan had first brought me after he saved me ten years ago. I was 17 when I got lost in the pouring rain, terrified by the thund

Regan’s POVI reclined against the headboard, the weight of the whiskey glass heavy in my hand. The scent of alcohol hung thick in the air, mingling with the subtle perfume that clung to Zarina's skin.She shifted beside me, not bothering to cover her naked body. "You should sleep here in the penthouse tonight."I shook my head, taking a long sip of the amber liquid. "No, I need to go home.""Why do you always go home to her?"I paused, grappling for an answer that I didn't have. Why did I always return to Anastasia, even when I knew I shouldn't?"I... I don't know."But deep down, I knew she was right. I should have stayed away from my wife, but something within me resisted. As Zarina's words echoed in my mind, a pang of guilt washed over me. Today was our anniversary, a day that held significance for Anastasia, even if it held none for me. She always prepared for our anniversary, despite knowing that I would never be there to celebrate with her.I don’t know why she can’t let our ma

As I skidded to a halt outside the towering building with a big sign Skyview Heights. I leaped out of the car and dashed towards the entrance. Then, I saw him—the man from the video—strolling casually inside as though he hadn't a care in the world.“Hey!” I shouted, storming inside the building. “Stop right there!”The man turned, his eyes narrowing in annoyance, but before he could respond, the two guards stationed at the entrance blocked my path.“Sir, you are not allowed to be here”“Let go! Do you not know who I am?!” I snapped, my frustration boiling over.“Sorry, Sir, but we cannot let you in,” the other guard insisted, crossing his arms in front of him.My jaw ticked with irritation. Pointing towards Anastasia, who lay unconscious in the man’s arms, I practically spat out my words. “She is my wife! And that asshole kidnapped her!”The guards exchanged a glance, but the man simply looked annoyed. “You don’t seem to be his husban

Anastasia's POVThe morning light pierced through the curtains. My head felt like a melon that had been dropped from a ten-story building. With a groan, I pried open one eye, then the other, squinting at the harsh numbers glowing on the bedside clock: 10:00 am. “Ugh,” I croaked, squeezing my eyes shut again in a desperate attempt to escape the throbbing pain behind them.Just the thought of sitting up sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over me.  Ignoring the dull ache blooming in my lower back, I attempted to rise anyway, only to be met with a white-hot spike of pain in my head that had me flopping back down onto the pillows with a whimper.That’s when Susan materialized in the doorway, a tray laden with a steaming bowl of soup held carefully in her hands.  “Good morning, Miss Anastasia,”“Ugh, Susan. I slept in so late. I can’t believe it’s already ten.”“You should drink this, Miss,” she said gently, plac