TARA

Ugh. Not again.

 When my boss called my name twice, I knew I had gone overboard with my commentary.

 My head was still not in the game. I hated Monday, but I hate this day even more. I still had a hangover, not from alcohol, but from a kiss with a stranger. 

I knew it was nothing, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. Maybe this was the effect of having a dry spell longer than any woman could bear.

 "Yes, Mr. Brown?" I said in an American accent as I ran towards his office door. As I got closer, I could see his nose flaring, his brown eyes narrowing at me behind his eyeglasses.

 "Are you kidding me?" He shoved the paper before my eyes. "You can't write something like this and not get backlash online. If you still want this job and your co-workers will have a job tomorrow, just do what I ask you to." 

"But, that's exactly-" I stopped mid-sentence when he glared further. 

"What did I just say? Express Media will not see the light of day if you post something against the giant corporate media or the entity they're supporting." He pushed the paper into my chest. 

"Mr.-" I caught the paper of my one-hundred-word analysis on the latest issue of foreign policies. 

"Rewrite that. I need it before the end of the day." Before shutting the door right in my face, he turned to me. "Just write what makes the subscribers and readers happy." 

Drawing a deep breath, I walked back to my desk. So my promotion was not going to happen sooner. I just threw it outside the window because, apparently, I was very opinionated. But that was the job, the last time I checked.

"Look who got an admirer," Talia sang, her brown fox eyes dancing with humor.  

My eyebrows furrowed. What was she talking about? I ignored what she said, just like how she complained to me every day about her abusive husband, but never left him, as if he were the last man on earth. 

But what was more concerning than my analysis was the bouquet with a single Juliet rose in the center. It didn't have to check the card. I knew what it meant. Someone was sending me a message.

Oh, no. Did something happen back home?

My heart started to beat faster as I grabbed my bag and told Talia, "I'll be right back before lunch."

Confused, she asked, "Where are you going? It's not even lunch break yet."

"I know, but I have to go." I stuffed the paper into my bag and walked out.

I arrived at the park and sat on the bench. I checked the watch, it was only thirty minutes, and I started to grow restless. I rubbed my palm against my pants as I looked around at the possible familiar faces.

Since I left home, I barely checked the news about my family. I learned to forgive myself for what I did, but never a day passed by that I didn't miss them, despite the severe punishment they put on me. 

Before I could stand up, someone sat next to me. The sweet aromatic note of fresh, fruity, spicy, and vanilla with a hint of sexiness, warm, and the elegance of jasmine and musk filled the air. 

I turned my head to look at the woman. An audible gasp escaped my lips as the familiar face of iStyle Magazine's editor-in-chief took off her sunglasses. Sometimes, people called her the real-life Miranda Priestly because of her brilliance and intimidating nature.

"Ms. Hearst?" I shut my mouth close and shallowed. This was not a coincidence. But how did she find out about the secret messaging?

"Tara Montimer." Right. It was even more concerning that she knew my name.

"I'm sorry. I was expecting someone else." I rose to my feet.

"I sent you the flowers," she said nonchalantly and looked at her three-hundred-thousand-dollar limited edition watch. "Sit down."

 "Why? What do you want?" I sat down not because I respected her as the illegitimate sister of the King of Triberis Capria, but I was dying to know why she was wasting her time on me. 

"The fans of Midnight are dying to read the sequel. T.S. Prince left quite a cliff-hanging ending. Sixteen million copies sold and eighteen weeks on top of the NYT Bestselling spot. A Breakthrough Young Adult Author of the Year. That's impressive."

"What does that have to do with me?" I met her gaze. Her brown eyes seemed warm, but I could see the determination of a blunt and insensitive woman to get what she came here for.

"I'd love to publish the identity of the author behind the bestselling book Midnight on Page Six. I heard T.S. Prince is a woman. What do you say, Tara? The fans will be delighted."

 My blood boiled in my veins. "And you think that it's me?" I snorted, pointing at myself. "I can't even get my 100-word commentary done, let alone write a bestselling book. You're delusional." Did I just call Alessia Hearst delusional?

 I think I just did. And it felt good, knowing what her country did to mine. 

"Drop the accent, Tara. I know who you are. What do you think your fans will say if they found out who you are and the identity behind T.S. Prince? And I will do it, trust me. I also know you have the family property with you. Tomorrow, you will be the headline; your anonymity as an author is over. Unless you do as I say."

"No." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm done with people intimidating and bullying me. If you can ruin me, I can ruin you, too?"

"With what, my dear?" Her perfect eyebrow arched. "Nothing that can damage my reputation. The world knows who I am." She was right. People had accepted her as she was. Unlike me.

"What do you want?"

"Aren't you tired of hiding behind the shadow? Don't you want to show your family that you're back on your feet, conquering the world, and that you're not that loser anymore?" She snorted, scrolling her gaze at me. "Why not show them what you are capable of?"

 I shook my head in confusion. "What are you trying to say, Alessia?"

 When she gave me the white card with silver metallic print, I stared at it for a moment, rereading the company name in my head.

 When I looked at her, I didn't know what to say.

 "I wrote my number on the back. You have twenty-four hours to agree, or your identity and your little secret as T.S. Prince are over."

 Still pissed off with my encounter with Alessia, I drove back to work, only to almost bump into my best friend, who was my former roommate at the lobby. 

"Olive, what are you doing here?" I asked, even though I knew why she was here. 

"Hey. Glad I caught you. You didn't return my call." She accidentally read my manuscript over a year ago. That was how she became my literary agent. 

I breathed deeply. "Give me two months. That's all I need."

"Honey, you know I love you. I can give you the time you need, but the publisher won't wait any longer. It's been more than a year since your last book, and the fans are getting enraged and anxious. And you got the advance payment already."

"I just-" 

"I'm sorry." She gave my hands a soft squeeze and said, "I know it's my fault and idea for a cliff-hanger, but the book is so good. Maybe you need to get out of your apartment just this weekend. I can arrange a cabin somewhere in the mountains. Maybe the ideas will flow in a nice, quiet place."

I rolled my eyes as I smiled. "Yes, it definitely will. Will freeze my ass to death. No, thank you." I hadn't told her I attended the ball. Even though she helped me pick the dress, she knew I would not attend. All of a sudden, I changed my mind at the last minute.

"Okay. Bad idea."

"I'll give you the outline in a week. Is that okay?"

"I want it on Monday. It doesn't have to be perfect. I just need something to present to Lori."

"Fine. Monday it is."

MAD

As I scanned the familiar faces in the conference room, landing last at my father, it took me seconds to realize that they had started the meeting without me.

 I checked the time on my watch. I was five minutes early. Like always, I had never been late to work or a meeting, and it suddenly concerned me. 

"Glad you're here now," my father addressed my presence formally. "Take a seat."

 "Why do I feel like I'm a guest here instead of the CEO of this company?" In protest, I remained standing across from my father before the board members. "What's going on?"

 "I didn't know either," my assistant Ali whispered. "I'm sorry, sir."

 "It's not your fault," I assured her that her job was safe.

 My father's assistant, Vanessa Dylan, placed today's newspaper issue before me.

 "That's why we're here early," my father said firmly, staring right into my eyes. 

I didn't have to check to know that my face was on the front page and all over the internet again, like I'd been for the last two months. 

If I weren't strong enough and a man still filled with dreams and plans for the company, surrounded by the people who cared about me, and had a paid therapist to listen to my bullshits, I would have turned myself into a monk or a stone. 

"I can explain." I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat as that video flashed in my head. 

"I don't want your explanation, Madden. Your image is getting from bad to worse." My father was a good man, a brilliant strategist and businessman, but looking at him right now, he was like a starving lion about to lunge at me and feast on his fresh meat.

"What do you want me to do, Dad? It was my best friend's birthday." 

"I don't wanna hear more excuses. So you couldn't go to his house, greet him, or send him a gift or something? Instead, you went to the nightclub and exposed yourself to the hungry tabloids again. We've been trying to fix your image, for Pete's sake, Madden, but you're not even trying hard to help yourself."

 I breathed deeply while everyone around said nothing but listened to my father and me exchange arguments. "What do you think I've been doing for the past two months? I don't mean to be insensitive-"

"That's exactly what you are!" Dad yelled at me. He just lost his temper as he slammed his palm against the table, startling everyone. The room went completely and utterly silent. "We lost two hundred million dollars since that video spread like wildfire all over the internet. I still accepted your apology, son, because you're good at what you do, but last night was unacceptable. People start boycotting the company like we're a sore loser supporting a heinous crime. I can't do this anymore."

 "Dad-"

 "No." He only raised a finger, and I knew I was doomed. "The vote is unanimous."

 "You voted against me while I'm not even around?" My eyes narrowed at him. I didn't have to look at the board because I knew without a doubt that they trusted my father more than me.

 "Yes. I'm the chairman of this company. I still outrank you." He leaned back. "Here's what you will do, son."

 "Or what, Dad?" My tone was a challenge. I instantly noticed how his back stiffened. "You'll fire me? Go ahead, and I will start my own business." That was the initial plan, but why would I do that when I worked hard for years to keep this company on top?

 "You can quit, but then with your public image right now, I don't think there are investors out there who would risk their money and trust you." Of course, he knew. He looked at everyone. "Thank you for coming."

 I waited until everyone was gone before I took a seat away from him. "I did everything as you told me to, Dad. You know that."

 "You should have toned down your partying like there was no tomorrow." I felt like he just berated a six-year-old me. He wasn't even aware I attended the Kross Charity Foundation last month and another charity event before the so-called party.

 The door swung open a minute later, and my heart started to beat wildly because I had a strong feeling I was not going to like whatever plans my father had for me.

 A beautiful, sophisticated woman in her forties stood beside my father. She didn't have to introduce herself because I knew her. 

"I'm Vysper Rowe."

 "Crisis management specialist. I know who you are," I said nonchalantly. "So how can you help me, Ms. Rowe?"

 "I hired her two months ago. But since nothing is working for you, I have decided to lay the final option to repair your image, son. If it still doesn't work, maybe you have to step down as the CEO while you are still a major shareholder and a member of the board."

 "Wow." I snorted. "So, it's like my life is planned before I'm even born. Great. Lay it on me, Dad." I gestured as I grabbed the bottled water and drank it. I needed more than water to calm me, and I knew I needed something stronger for the next thing he had to say. 

Dad didn't like my tone, but I was more pissed at him for planning my future behind my back.

 "You're getting married."

 The water almost dislodged into the wrong pipe. I coughed as I stared at my father in utter shock. "Excuse me?"

 "That's the only way to help this issue die down, Madden. For you to settle down."

 I stood up and laughed out loud, mocking my father's plan. When he glared further, and Vysper did nothing but stare at me, I leaned my palm against the table, shaking my head. "No fucking way." 

"You give up your position or a public image rehab, Madden." 

"That's a little bit extreme, Dad. I did as you asked me to, hiding from the public eye, but marriage? How does it even help my image? How can you convince people to believe it's not a charade?" I stole a glance at Vysper. She may be good at crisis management, but she would also do anything for money.

 "The two-month phase was only the first step, Mr. Shanewood," Vysper said confidently. "The second step would be your engagement announcement, if you didn't go to the club last night." That was exactly what I was talking about. One rotten tomato blah blah blah. It didn't matter if I did something good.

 "Extreme? We lost another hundred million dollars since that tabloid came out this morning." He pointed at the newspapers on the table. The board and our investors are losing patience. I took care of your image, but it wasn't enough. So you either step down as the CEO or do as I say."

 "And who will take over? My COO?"

 "No. I can run the company without being publicly scrutinized like you are."

 "We already have a story plan ahead that you met someone during your travel. Then you will propose and get married in a very intimate ceremony. Then all you have to do is convince the people that you two are in love."

 I rolled my eyes at Vysper. At the same time, my mind went back to those stunning sapphire eyes. If she's the girl, maybe I'll consider. 

 "Easy for you to say. You're not going to be with a woman you're not in love with."

 "Then you should have kept your junk in your pants," Dad said to me as she gestured at Vysper. "Show him."

 "Show me what?" My gaze bounced between him and Vysper.

 "Give it to him, Vaughn," Vysper told her assistant.

 The Asian guy placed a black folder on the table before me.

 "What's this?" I asked and opened it, revealing the pre-approved list of women who were chosen for me. "You've got to be kidding me." 

"These are the candidates suitable to be your wife," Vysper said casually, like I was just choosing a suit to wear for a gala, not a woman to carry my family name and bear my heir. "An ordinary citizen, beautiful, single, and without criminal records. You can't marry a celebrity or a popular person like you."

 I stared at her in disgust. "What made you think these women would agree to marry me? How will I convince one of them? Don't they have their own lives to enjoy?" 

My father did not say a word. Instead, Vysper replied, "We will pay one of them a huge amount of money." 

"Fascinating." I spread at least six profiles before me. "Should I just say eeny, meeny, miny, moe?" I was beyond furious that I had to pick from one of these women and ruin her life in the end.

"Read their qualifications," my father said. 

"You don't even know my type." I snorted.

"You like tall, beautiful women, son. You don't have to love her. This contract marriage will only last for two to three years."

"Great plan, can't go wrong." With a lack of interest, I just picked one. "Here. Let me ruin another life. Congratulations." I stood up, buttoned my suit, and walked out.

TARA

I twisted and turned in bed for hours as I couldn't shake the thought of the threat out of my head. Knowing it came from Alessia, I knew she would do it in a heartbeat. 

I got up from bed and sat in my kitchen in front of my laptop for two hours, trying to write an outline. Every time I put my fingers on the keys, I came up with nothing. All I could think of was my face flashing over the internet with a horrible headline and vile comments on social media.

I still ended up with nothing. I finally grew tired of staring at the black page and yawned at three in the morning. I barely slept and woke up with anxiety.

 Here, I was back to work, trying to squeeze the idea out of my head for another commentary. As they say, easy peasy lemon squeezy. I finished it within an hour, proofread, and submitted it to my boss. But when it came to my next book, I got nothing. I didn't even believe in writer's block, but right now, it felt like it.

 I checked the time on the screen. The 24-hour ultimatum was over. Simultaneously, my phone vibrated.

 I picked up the call with my heart pounding hard in my chest. "Hello?"

 "You have five seconds, my dear." I instantly recognized Alessia's voice and rolled my eyes. "Call the number, or you're a click away from being famous again." The line went off.

 "Bitch." I picked up the calling card and dialed the number. The line answered right away as if someone was expecting a call. 

"Vysper Rowe."

 "Ms. Rowe, I'm Tara."

 "Great," she replied chirply. "Meet me at the address I'm sending it to you right now. I'll send a car to pick you up."

 "I'm sure I know how to get there." My phone just pinged. "When?"

 "Right now, if you're free."

 "Okay." I drew a deep breath when the call ended.

 When I thought my life would be a little bit better after I got my first book published, received the royalties, and the readers loved it, I was wrong. I had a good life away from scrutiny, and the reason why I preferred to be anonymous in the first place. 

Since that incident, I hated to be the center of attention. I'd been able to acclimate just like an ordinary person, and yet, here we go again.

 My identity remained unknown because I'd rather have my fans love the book and the characters than the author. Fortunately, my publisher had agreed to my terms until Alessia threatened me.

 My drive to the address was filled with silence and uncertainty. I didn't even know what I would do if I didn't do as she said. I had a feeling that I might have to sell my soul to the devil.

 The Shanewood Tower, a high-rise complex building located in the central financial district in New York, soared higher in front of me upon parking my car. Before I could inquire at the reception, someone called my name.

 "Yes?" I turned to a thirty-ish-tall man in a dark suit. "That's me."

 "I'm Rey Nites. I'll take you to Ms. Rowe." He gestured to the elevator.

 "Mr. Nites, may I ask what this is all about? I'm kinda in the dark here," I said as I followed behind him.

 "Call me Nites, ma'am. I'm sorry, I have no idea." He used a key card to access the private elevator. "I'm sure Ms. Rowe will explain it to you. Lady's first."

 I walked in. "I get it. You're not at liberty to discuss it with me."

 He briefly looked at me and smiled.

 As the elevator brought us up, I counted numbers in my head to calm my rising heartbeat. Rey Nites hadn't said a word. The floor number kept rising and stopped at floor PH.

 Penthouse?

 My heart sank. I still didn't know what I was doing here, and it felt like I was thrown into a crocodile pond.

 I managed to enter through the fancy door of the luxurious penthouse without collapsing. I released a shaky breath that I didn't know I was holding for too long.

 The stunning architectural design had achieved an expansive interior like a space in the sky with an extraordinary level of sophistication, yet it was more than just a residence, but an element of home. But what truly captivated me was the view behind the floor-to-ceiling window- it was spectacular.

 "Do you like it?" The woman must be Vysper, who just appeared out of nowhere as I was too caught up checking out the captivating skyscraper from the window. 

"Sublime." Still in an American accent, I smiled and offered my hand. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Rowe. I suppose you and Ms. Hearst are friends."

 "Yes, we are." She shook my hand and offered me to sit. 

I took a seat just to be polite. "Thank you. I have to get back to work. So, why am I here?"

 "Alessia told me about you." She sat across from me, studying me candidly.

 "And you believe her? As to why I am here, I'm still clueless."

 "I didn't believe her until she showed me proof." Her smile was practiced as if she were trying to impress someone. I knew it because I was trained to act the way she just did.

 "She threatened to expose who I am. And you? Am I here to be blackmailed by you, too?"

 "Quite the opposite. I'm here to offer you and give you a chance."

 "I suppose there's always a catch." I also wondered how deep she knew about me.

 "Aren't you tired of hiding the truth, of who you really are?" Agh. That crap again. I wanted to roll my eyes. "If you can do something good, wouldn't you take that opportunity?"

 Still confused, I stood up. "I did something good, and look where it took me? And besides, if you do something out of the goodness of your heart, the best reward is to do it in private. So, just tell me already, or I'll walk out. "

 Before Vysper could answer, I heard strong footsteps behind me, and she rose and smiled.

 "Vysper," said the deep baritone voice that instantly caught my attention- the kind of voice that hypnotized me to turn around and face him. And by that single word, it was awfully familiar, like it was fresh in my head.

 All of a sudden, I could feel my heartbeat drumming in my chest as I turned around. The world seemed to have stopped spinning- time struck a halt. 

His strides were long and confident. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his dark pants. He met my gaze with his hazel eyes, surrounded by natural, thick, long lashes.

 Hazel eyes. The same hazel eyes that hypnotized me. No, this wasn't real. This wasn't happening.

 You've got to be freaking kidding me! 

This was not a coincidence.

 I tried not to stumble over my feet as I shut my mouth. The closer he got, the more familiar he became, like I'd seen that face somewhere. 

Shanewood Tower. 

Penthouse.

It took me seconds to realize what this was all about.

Of course, the condescending Playboy Mad Shanewood, and I were here for him, not for Vysper, and this was his penthouse where he hooked up with that poor girl who tried to take her own life livestream.

He stopped before me, offered his hand, and smiled that didn't reach his eyes. But what was more humiliating? He didn't recognize the sapphire- the birth freaking stone- the woman he kissed two nights ago.

Well, that was a bummer.

"Hi. I'm-" 

I looked up at him. I was viscerally aware of how tall he was, with a powerfully built body, almost making me look fragile before him. And not to mention that long, thick, and- crap!

 "Why am I here, Mr. Shanewood?" He didn't even recognize my voice, or maybe the accent confused him. For a second, I thought he was drunk or maybe had hit his head before he left two nights ago.

 For God's sake, Tara. He's a manwhore.

 Instead of answering me, he looked at Vysper. "You haven't told her?"

 "Told me what?" I bounced my gaze between him and Vysper. "To work for him? I have a job, and I'm not currently looking for a new employer. I'm sorry to have wasted your time. Obviously, there's been a mistake."  I walked past them. 

Before I made another step, Vysper called my name. "Do you know your brother mediated a deal with a billionaire that can destroy a mountain in your country to build a luxury resort?" I know you're an environmental activist-"

 I turned around. "That's not possible. And I hate to break it to you, Ms. Rowe, but you approached the wrong person. I can't help you."

 "Listen to me, Tara. This offer is once in a lifetime. I know deep inside you, you still care about your country and who you are. You still carry your family's blood in your veins. You don't need those fancy titles anymore to help other people. All you need is an influential husband to make a difference."

 My heart stopped. I felt like my world just turned black. "Did you just say husband?"