He threw money on the bed after our one-night stand.
I threw it back in his face at his own inauguration.
By sundown, we were engaged. By the week's end — married.
Franklin Flemington needed a wife to secure his empire. I needed a miracle to save my family. For two years, we played our parts flawlessly — the golden couple the whole city envied.
Behind closed doors, I was invisible to him.
When the two years were up, I handed him divorce papers without blinking.
He stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "I've given you everything a husband should. What more do you want from me, Octavia?"
I smiled, signed my name, and walked out.
I thought that was the end. I thought I'd finally won.
I forgot one thing — Franklin Flemington has never lost anything in his life. And he has no intention of starting with me.
Game on.

The following morning, the sun climbed over the jagged skyline of Manhattan, casting long, golden fingers across Central Park. Walter navigated the limo to the edge of the park, which was awakening in that quiet, rhythmic way unique to New York mornings. The air was crisp, scented with damp earth and the promise of spring.


Locke and Holt trailed me with the practiced ease of shadows. They were far enough to grant me the illusion of privacy, yet close enough that I could hear the faint, rhythmic scuff of their boots on the pavement. My eyes scanned the verdant landscape instinctively, searching for a face I barely knew but felt tied to.


Then I saw her. Annie was standing near a weathered stone bench, a large silver suitcase resting by her side. The sight of the luggage made my pace falter. Why was she packed? Was she running, or was she part of the plan to move me?


Chapter 197 - ~ 197