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 weekend arrived wrapped in a crisp New York morning, the kind that promised fresh beginnings even when the shadows of the week still lingered in my chest. I drove toward the family estate with a strange mix of anticipation and dread twisting in my stomach. I was going to pick Annie up for our long-overdue outing, but the closer I got to those familiar wrought-iron gates, the more I prayed I wouldn't run into my father face to face. The last thing I needed today was another confrontation that would leave me raw and distracted.


The moment I stepped inside the grand foyer, the familiar scent of polished wood and fresh flowers greeted me like an old, complicated memory. Cleo, the new assistant housekeeper, appeared almost instantly, her warm smile cutting through the tension I carried.


"Good morning, Mr. Clinton," she greeted with her usual respectful cheer.


Chapter 135 - ~ 135