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.

Clinton's birthday was tomorrow, and I was determined to make it special. My plan was simple yet thoughtful: surprise him at his apartment with a homemade cake, then take him to Jovita, his favorite restaurant in Queens, for a quiet dinner. Since he would be busy with work all day, evening felt like the perfect time.


I sat on the porch swing, gently rocking back and forth as the late afternoon sun warmed my skin. My laptop was open on my lap while I tried to secure a reservation on Jovita's website. The soft creak of the swing mixed with the distant sounds of the estate grounds.


Uncle Dorian's sleek car pulled up the driveway, followed closely by Kieran Townsend—his ever-present, stern-looking bodyguard. Kieran's cold, unreadable expression always gave me an uneasy feeling.


"Hey, Uncle Dorian," I greeted him as he climbed the porch steps.


"Annie," he replied curtly, barely glancing at me.


"What are you doing?" he asked, stopping near the swing.


Chapter 167 - ~ 167