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.

It was still so hard to believe that Clinton and I had already been back from our Parisian honeymoon for an entire month. I pouted thinking about the lovely and romantic times.


The jet lag had long worn off, replaced by the sweetest, most grounding routine.


We were officially deep in the "just married" chronicles, navigating the early days of sharing a home, a last name, and a future. And honestly? I had never been happier or more at peace in my entire life.


"I'm telling you, Octavia, the man is completely ridiculous," I giggled, leaning my hip against the edge of the counter as I carefully poured fresh hazelnut coffee into two, matching ceramic mugs.


Chapter 303 - ~ 302