Where the Snow Falls Soft

Where the Snow Falls Soft

Edik Brandwein

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My life with Mark was perfect, or so I thought. Seven years together, a cozy apartment in Chicago, and a baby on the way. Then a car accident stole our future. I lay on the pavement, bleeding and terrified, dialing Mark, only for him to answer with an annoyed shrug-off from his 'client'. Just minutes later, I saw him drive by, him in the passenger seat, his intern Jessie at the wheel. The hospital confirmed my biggest fear: I'd lost the baby. That night, alone at home, I found expensive lingerie, definitely not for me, hidden in our closet. It was for Jessie. The next betrayal came wrapped in buttercream: Mark asked me to bake an elaborate birthday cake for his "important agency client." It was Jessie. And if that wasn't enough, at her lavish party, Jessie flaunted my anniversary bracelet, telling me Mark said it was "just something old lying around." My heart turned to stone as I grasped the depth of his cruelty and indifference. To lose our baby, only to uncover this twisted deception, the public humiliation, and his utter contempt for my feelings. How could one person be so callous, so utterly devoid of empathy? Enough was enough. At that party, I handed him a document-the termination of our shared lease. As he scribbled his name, oblivious, I knew my decision was final. I walked out of that party and his life forever, ready to reclaim my power and start anew. But first, he had to pay.

Introduction

My life with Mark was perfect, or so I thought.

Seven years together, a cozy apartment in Chicago, and a baby on the way.

Then a car accident stole our future.

I lay on the pavement, bleeding and terrified, dialing Mark, only for him to answer with an annoyed shrug-off from his 'client'.

Just minutes later, I saw him drive by, him in the passenger seat, his intern Jessie at the wheel.

The hospital confirmed my biggest fear: I'd lost the baby.

That night, alone at home, I found expensive lingerie, definitely not for me, hidden in our closet.

It was for Jessie.

The next betrayal came wrapped in buttercream: Mark asked me to bake an elaborate birthday cake for his "important agency client."

It was Jessie.

And if that wasn't enough, at her lavish party, Jessie flaunted my anniversary bracelet, telling me Mark said it was "just something old lying around."

My heart turned to stone as I grasped the depth of his cruelty and indifference.

To lose our baby, only to uncover this twisted deception, the public humiliation, and his utter contempt for my feelings.

How could one person be so callous, so utterly devoid of empathy?

Enough was enough.

At that party, I handed him a document-the termination of our shared lease.

As he scribbled his name, oblivious, I knew my decision was final.

I walked out of that party and his life forever, ready to reclaim my power and start anew.

But first, he had to pay.

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I was at a high-end law school mixer, hiding behind a pillar and eyeing the shrimp buffet because my bank account was empty and my fridge contained nothing but expired milk. My father’s name was a national headline for all the wrong reasons, and my only goal was to survive law school without being recognized. That’s when the room went silent for the arrival of Armond Woodward, the billionaire COO of a global media empire. I froze, because seven years ago in Paris, he was Armond Chevalier, the sweet art student I’d shared a life with. Now, he was a cold-eyed predator in a bespoke suit, and he was staring directly at me like I was a missing asset he’d finally located. I tried to escape, but the walls were closing in. My tuition payment was forty-eight hours late, and my father was facing a new indictment that would keep him in prison for the rest of his life. While a rich classmate named Miles tried to "save" me by parading me around like a trophy, Armond was working in the shadows. He didn't just offer help; he bought my student loans and my father’s legal liens, effectively making himself my sole creditor. The realization hit me like a physical blow when Armond cornered me in his private elevator. He knew about my broken apartment lock, my ramen-noodle dinners, and every cent I owed. He hadn't just found me by accident; he had been watching me drown for years, waiting for the exact moment I became desperate enough to be useful. "I've been waiting for you to hit bottom, Rose," he whispered, using the private name from our past as he trapped me in the back of his black SUV. With the threat of a two-million-dollar restitution fee hanging over my father's head and the prosecutors closing in, Armond laid out his final terms. He didn't want an apology or a second chance at love; he needed a wife to secure his family trust and defeat a hostile takeover, and I was the only person with enough debt to be completely controlled. "Marry me, Abbey. A three-year contract, and I make all of this go away." I looked at the man who had destroyed my life just to own it and realized that to save my family, I had to walk straight into the golden cage he had built for me.

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