The Architect of My Ruin

at this single night: the National Design Excellence Award. It wasn' t just a trophy; it was the key, the one thing that unlocked the scholarship to study under t

was projected on the massive screen above the stage. It was more than a blueprint; it was a piec

he lead judge, a man whose success was as sharp and polished as his tailored suit. He caught my eye and gave me

he wasn' t a finalist. She wasn' t even a professional designer. She was just... Olivia. She clung to Mark'

the National Design Excellence Award, and the recipient

ht in my throa

via

e it was coming from underwater. I stared, my mind refusing to process what I' d heard. Ol

ds as she walked to the stage. She took the gleaming trophy, a

proud as he stood beside her.

ds the stage. "There has to be a mistake," I said, my voice shakin

y, and two of his bodyguards moved to in

bubble up. "Mark, this is my career.

r slight nod to the guards. A large hand clam

own dream. As they shoved me through the heavy doors into the cold night air, the last thing I saw wa

one headline screamed. "Johnson Gives Prestigious Award to His Mistress," another a

f sincerity, ready to silence the critics and protect Olivia. I hid in the

on stage. His voice was low and dripping with a

ng her hair. "I'll handle these peasants. N

phy. "But why did it have to be he

use you said you wanted it for your charm bracelet, remember? And whatever my soulmate wants