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Woke Up Engaged To My Rival

Chapter 2 No.2

Word Count: 874    |    Released on: 19/01/2026

ty. Eve sat at a corner table, shielded by a high partition of lush greenery. It

ier watch. Andre was

e. He was an artist. Time was a fluid concept to him, something to be bent rathe

cloth. A notification from a celebr

turns. Famed Artist Andre Wilcox

finger hovered over the

d the not

ing through the arrivals terminal, looking tan and rugged. But he wasn't alone. Tucked

n. His ex-

opped, a physical sensation of falling. Why was Cinda

is way, M

from the other side of the

ct, thank you,

e's

ldn't move. She sat paralyzed, listening as two people slid into th

emale voice purred. Cinda

d of fabric rustli

s tone was low, intimate-a tone Eve had heard in h

cking lilt. "Is that Franks heiress still obsessed wi

She squeezed her eyes shut, praying for him to defend her. Prayin

a short, dis

her," he said. "

sed. "She's rich. Did

burden, always has been. Besides, look at her. She's just a checkbook with legs. She was a useful stand-in

like a physical

tan

aceh

se of the restaurant. The room tilted. The air felt too thin. She pressed

his gallery shows, the late-night calls where she listened to his insecur

r champagne silk dres

a crushing wave of humiliation. She couldn't confront them. If she stood up now,

give them tha

lently, like a ghost, leaving the unopened menu and the glass of wate

her face, stinging the tears

re shaking so badly she almost dropped

ckname. Then she b

gram. Blocked. T

f her heart fractured. It

stress immediately. He hurried out. "Ms. Franks? Is

ked out. Her voice was un

e to?

inally snapping. "Not home. Everything there

door. "Ma'am, you have the board m

into the darkness of the backseat. "I want t

hind the restaurant, the cufflinks in her purse,

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Woke Up Engaged To My Rival
Woke Up Engaged To My Rival
“I spent seven years as the secret benefactor of the man I loved, waiting for the day he would finally acknowledge our relationship. I traded my sharp business suits for a soft silk dress, ready to tell the world that the brilliant artist Andre Wilcox was finally mine. But at our anniversary dinner, the truth hit harder than any corporate betrayal. I sat inches away, hidden by a partition, as Andre laughed with his ex-girlfriend. He called me a "suffocating burden" and a "checkbook with legs" that he only tolerated until he became famous. Devastated and drowning in vodka, I stumbled into a nightclub and ran straight into Charls Wiley, my most hated business rival. In a haze of pain and alcohol, I clung to his expensive suit while paparazzi cameras flashed, sobbing that I loved him and begging him not to leave me. He swept me into his arms to escape the scandal, but our getaway ended in a horrific car crash that left us both buried in shattered glass. When I woke up in a hospital suite, the trauma had wiped my memory clean. My brain, unable to process Andre's cruelty, filled the gaps with the only man who was there when the world went dark. "Charls, darling, you're hurt," I whispered, looking at my sworn enemy with pure, unfiltered adoration. I truly believe the man who tried to destroy my company is my devoted fiancé. My mother and Charls quickly realized that a fake engagement could save our stock prices and seal a fifty-million-dollar merger, so they decided to let the lie live. Now, I'm recovering in the arms of a shark, calling my nemesis "Hubby" while he waits for my memory to return so he can finish the war he started.”