The rain poured heavily that night, a symphony of soft drumming against the window of the taxi I had taken to Rehan's apartment. It was the kind of rain that blurred the world, leaving everything indistinct and uncertain an omen I should have recognized. I had always loved the rain, but that night it felt colder, harsher.
Clutching the envelope in my hand, I stared at the bold letters stamped across it PROJECT APPROVED. Months of sleepless nights and relentless determination had paid off, and the first person I wanted to share my triumph with was the man I loved. Rehan. My Rehan. The man who had promised me a future of love and stability.
The apartment door was slightly ajar when I arrived. That should have been my second warning. I stepped inside, careful not to let the envelope get wet as I slipped off my soaked heels. The faint glow of the bedside lamp spilled into the hallway, leading me like a trail into the heart of a nightmare.
Then I heard it. A soft moan.
At first, I thought it was the television Rehan often left it on when he fell asleep. But the sound grew louder, unmistakably human. A woman's voice, breathless and intimate, calling his name in a way that made my stomach churn.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
No.
My feet moved without permission, carrying me closer to the half-open door of his bedroom. My mind screamed at me to turn back, to leave before the fragile illusion of my perfect life shattered completely. But some part of me needed to know needed to see the truth with my own eyes.
I pushed the door open.
There they were. Rehan and Liyana. The two people I trusted most in the world, tangled together in sheets that I had picked out for his bed. Her hands clung to his shoulders as he moved against her, their laughter and gasps a twisted mockery of everything I thought we had.
The envelope slipped from my trembling hands, landing with a soft thud against the floor. Neither of them noticed.
My legs carried me out of the apartment before I could collapse under the weight of what I had just seen. The rain drenched me as I stumbled into the street, my vision blurred by tears and fury. The envelope was still in my hand, now a soggy, crumpled reminder of the life I thought I was building.
That night, I made a vow.
I would never be anyone's fool again.
Two days later, I stood alone in the courthouse, clutching my bouquet of ivory roses. I had come here prepared to marry the man I thought loved me, only to find an empty space where he should have been. Rehan didn't show up, not even a phone call or a message to explain why.
My pride burned hotter than my heartbreak. As I turned to leave, I noticed a man standing by the entrance, his broad shoulders framed by the sunlight streaming through the glass doors. His dark suit was impeccably tailored, his stance confident, almost intimidating.
It was him. Ryan Trent Romero.
I had only seen him once before at one of Rehan's family gatherings a shadowy figure who kept his distance from the rest of the Romero clan. He was older than Rehan by at least a decade, his chiseled features hardened by something that felt like experience, or maybe pain.
Our eyes met, and for reasons I couldn't fully understand, I blurted out the words that would change my life forever.
"Marry me."
His brows shot up in surprise, but he didn't hesitate for long. He glanced down at my bouquet, then back at me. "Are you serious?"
"Deadly."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, more curious than amused. "Why me?"
"Because you're here," I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "And I need someone who won't leave."
He studied me for a moment longer, his dark eyes searching for something hesitation, regret, maybe even sanity. Whatever he saw, it must have convinced him, because he extended his hand.
"Alright, then. Let's do this."
As we walked into the courtroom together, I felt the weight of my past slipping away. I didn't know who Ryan Trent Romero truly was, or what this impulsive decision would cost me.
But for the first time in days, I felt like I was in control of my life again. I just didn't know how much more I had to lose.