. It was a small, simple act, but it felt monumental. It was a physical barr

n, more forcefully. I lay in bed, my eyes open in the darkness, and listened. There was a long silence.

e but never truly control. I spread them across the desk and started going through them, line by line. My mind, which had been clouded by grief and confusion for so long, was now sharp

d "Willow Arts." The name

The betrayal was old news. Now, it was about damage control and strategic planning. I made notes, highlighting ever

were sitting on a stone bench by the koi pond. It was a scene ripped directly from my past life, a memory that had once caused me so much

and had run back to the house, my heart in pieces. I

riosity. I saw the way Vivian leaned into him, the calculated nature of her distress. I saw the

se, of being the white knight, and he gave her financial and emotional

y before they could see

could hear the maids whispering

t of the room, can

her. It' s that Vivian. She'

ly, but they have nothing left. Mrs. Hayes is

oper lady, but she has no fi

een a proper lady, molded and shaped to fit the role of the wife of a wealthy man. I had suppressed my own fire, my own ambitions, to

n being proper. She was interested in being free. And she was interested in reclaiming what was hers. The fire they s