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Summary
" What are you? my body guard?" I asked him with an eyebrow raised. " If that's what you want, I will gladly drop everything I'm doing and lay down my life for you," Diane Wrenford is forced back home by her father, to get married to none other than Theodore Hawthorne, her childhood crush slash rival and also her sister's boyfriend. Diane must find a way to break this engagement, but what can she do when all odds are against her, Including Theodore himself.
Chapter 1
I returned home after a very tiresome day at work, fatigue hanging on my shoulders like a weighted cloak. Despite my exhaustion, I continued with my plan—a surprise for Benson, my boyfriend.
I had planned everything meticulously: a reservation at his favorite restaurant, a bottle of his preferred red wine, and the biggest surprise of all—a car.
I’d worked extra shifts for months, sacrificing sleep and personal time, just to make this moment perfect. He’d lost his job months ago, and supporting us both had become my full-time reality.
As I stepped off the elevator, my heels clicking against the polished floor, anticipation fluttered in my chest. I hadn't had the time for him and I hoped this could make up for it.
Balancing takeout bags in one hand, I fished out my keys and unlocked the apartment door. A soft lavender scent from the diffuser greeted me, a calming fragrance I’d come to rely on after long days.
But tonight, another scent lingered—something sweet and cloying, entirely out of place. My stomach twisted. I had noticed this scent before, faint and fleeting, but now it was stronger and I couldn't ignore it.
Then came the sound of laughter—a high, familiar, taunting laugh that made my blood run cold.
No... it can’t be.
I inched forward, every step weighed down by dread. The closer I got, the more unmistakable that voice became. Veronica Bliss—my old college rival, a woman whose existence revolved around undermining me.
The bedroom door was slightly ajar. My pulse thundered in my ears as I pushed it open.
There they were. A half naked Veronica lay on top Benson, doing despicable things. Their moans were loud and poisonous to my ears, a lewd scent choking me by my neck.
The feeling of betrayal, the thing I hated the most, overtook any feeling of hurt I had in me.
It took them a solid minute to realize it wasn't just them in the room anymore.
Benson scrambled off the bed, his face draining of color. "Diane—this... this isn’t what it looks like!"
I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “Not what it looks like? I walk in and find this, do you really think misunderstanding is a thing in this situation?”
Veronica rose lazily, draping the sheet around her like royalty. “Oh, Diane," she cooed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Don’t act so shocked. You can't possibly expect anyone to stay loyal to a nobody like you, can you?”
I clenched my fists, shaking with barely rage. How much I wanted to smack that disgusting smile out of her face.
Benson rubbed the back of his neck, guilt replaced by defensive indignation. "You’re never here, Diane. You’re always working, too tired to even talk—let alone touch me! What was I supposed to do? Wait around like a damn dog?”
I felt a thousand needles prick at my heart from his words.
I took a sharp breath, my nails digging into my palms. “You had to cheat because I was working to support us both? Do you hear yourself?”
His jaw tightened. “I’m a man. I have needs,” he paused. " And you see... that's the difference between you and Veronica. You have to work to put food on the table, she doesn't. She can support me without lifting a finger." He said taking me by surprise.
It wasn't just about the sex. What he wanted was money and power. How could I have been so blind to let him use me all along?
"Benson, are you even a man?" I yelled.
Veronica smirked. “Face it, Diane. You were never enough. Benson deserves someone who can keep up... someone like me.”
Anger surged through my veins. Before I realized what I was doing, my hand struck Benson’s face with a satisfying smack.
His eyes blazed with fury, and for a terrifying moment, his hand lifted as though to hit me back. Surprisingly Veronica intercepted, stepping between us with a dark, warning look.
I stumbled back, breath hitching. The room felt like it was caving in.
“I don't want to see you here when I come back tomorrow.” I said.
I stormed out, slamming the door behind me, not daring to look back. It might be cowardly, but I wasn't going to wait around till he changes his mind and decides to teach me a lesson.
No amount of adrenaline pumped into my veins could make me win a fight against him.
---
At Thorne Bar,
The dimly lit bar enveloped me like a protective shield. Quiet, dark, and far from familiar faces—a perfect place to drown in anonymity.
I sat at the counter, staring at the amber liquid swirling in my glass. The burn of the alcohol barely dulled the ache in my chest.
How did I let it get this bad?
I’d sacrificed so much, bent over backward to support Benson... and for what? To be brutally stabbed in the back.
“So stupid,” I muttered, bitterness staining my voice.
I took another long sip, savoring the temporary numbness. But even through the alcohol’s haze, I couldn’t shake the eerie sensation of being watched.
I cast a wary glance around the bar. It was sparsely populated—just a couple of patrons tucked into dark booths. Nothing unusual.
“Rough night?” a voice asked from beside me, making me flinch.
I turned and met piercing blue eyes framed by messy blond hair. He was ruggedly handsome. His voice carried a faint foreign accent.
“Is it that obvious?” I sighed.
He smirked. “You’re drinking alcohol like water and you look two seconds away from either crying or punching someone.”
A reluctant chuckle escaped me. “That bad, huh?”
“I’ve seen worse.” He raised his glass in a mock toast. “To surviving bad nights.”
I clinked my glass against his. “I walked in on my boyfriend... with another woman.”
He winced. “Yikes. Sorry you had to go through that.”
I shrugged, swallowing another burning mouthful. “It’s whatever.”
He glanced at his watch, then back at me. “You’ll get through it. Trust me. I would have loved to stay for some more chit chat but I've got to go”
Before leaving, he slid a small card across the counter. “In case you ever need someone’s ass kicked.”
His name was printed boldly: Ethan Graves, followed by a phone number.
I slipped the card into my bag, watching him disappear into the night.
The unsettling sensation of being watched prickled the back of my neck again. My gaze darted upward—to the dimly lit second-floor balcony.
My eyes landed on a dark silhouette. I couldn't quite make out his features, but I could see his dark eyes staring down at me with hostility.
I felt a chill run down my spine.
Deciding I was drunk enough, I gathered my things to leave. With every step I took, I felt myself getting dizzier. My stomach hurt like it had been punched repeatedly in the gut.
Just as I was about to walk out the exit, my legs gave out and the last thing I felt was a warm embrace before everything went dark.
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