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No Divorce, Only Widowhood: His Possession
img img No Divorce, Only Widowhood: His Possession img Chapter 7 7
7 Chapters
Chapter 8 8 img
Chapter 9 9 img
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 51 img
Chapter 52 52 img
Chapter 53 53 img
Chapter 54 54 img
Chapter 55 55 img
Chapter 56 56 img
Chapter 57 57 img
Chapter 58 58 img
Chapter 59 59 img
Chapter 60 60 img
Chapter 61 61 img
Chapter 62 62 img
Chapter 63 63 img
Chapter 64 64 img
Chapter 65 65 img
Chapter 66 66 img
Chapter 67 67 img
Chapter 68 68 img
Chapter 69 69 img
Chapter 70 70 img
Chapter 71 71 img
Chapter 72 72 img
Chapter 73 73 img
Chapter 74 74 img
Chapter 75 75 img
Chapter 76 76 img
Chapter 77 77 img
Chapter 78 78 img
Chapter 79 79 img
Chapter 80 80 img
Chapter 81 81 img
Chapter 82 82 img
Chapter 83 83 img
Chapter 84 84 img
Chapter 85 85 img
Chapter 86 86 img
Chapter 87 87 img
Chapter 88 88 img
Chapter 89 89 img
Chapter 90 90 img
Chapter 91 91 img
Chapter 92 92 img
Chapter 93 93 img
Chapter 94 94 img
Chapter 95 95 img
Chapter 96 96 img
Chapter 97 97 img
Chapter 98 98 img
Chapter 99 99 img
Chapter 100 No.100 img
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Chapter 7 7

The afternoon sun slanted through the windows of Serena's small rented studio space in Silver Lake. It was dusty, hot, and smelled of stale coffee.

She was staring at a spreadsheet on her laptop. The numbers were red. All red. Even with the bag sales, she was short. By a lot.

Her phone rang. An unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Vance? This is Elias Thorne from Moonlight Ventures."

Serena sat up straighter. "Yes?"

"We've been tracking your project, Loving You. We've read the script. We think it has... potential."

"You do?" Serena's heart skipped a beat.

"We'd like to offer full financing. Five million dollars. Creative control remains with you. The only condition is that Aurora Pictures handles distribution."

Serena frowned. "Aurora? But they just rejected me."

"We have a distribution deal with them," Elias said smoothly. "We handle the production; they handle the release. It guarantees you screens."

It sounded too good to be true. "Why? Why me?"

"Let's just say... we believe in the underdog."

Serena closed her eyes. A lifeline. "Okay. Send the paperwork."

She hung up and let out a scream of joy. She spun around in her chair. She did it. She did it without Julian.

She checked the time. 5:30 PM.

The dinner.

Her stomach dropped. She still hadn't fixed the Julian problem. He wasn't answering her texts.

She packed up her things and drove home. The house was empty. Julian hadn't come back.

She showered and dressed in a navy blue gown-her mother's favorite color. It was conservative, high-necked, boring. Armor for the Vance family firing squad.

She went downstairs. No Julian.

She texted him again.

Serena: I'm leaving for my parents'. Please.

Nothing.

She walked out to the driveway. The chauffeur, Arthur, opened the door of the Mercedes.

"To the Vance estate, Arthur," she said softly.

The car pulled out. Serena stared out the window, watching the palm trees blur. She felt a profound loneliness. She was going into the lion's den alone.

The car wound its way down the private road connecting the Sterling estate to the main thoroughfare. Just before the gate, Arthur slowed the Mercedes to a crawl.

"What is it?" Serena asked.

"Mr. Sterling's car is ahead, Ma'am," Arthur said.

Serena looked up. The black Maybach was idling by the exit gate, its taillights glowing like angry eyes in the dusk.

The rear door of the Maybach opened. Gavin stepped out. He walked over to the Mercedes and opened Serena's door.

"Mrs. Sterling," Gavin said. "Mr. Sterling requests you join him."

Serena let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She gathered her skirts and stepped out. She practically ran to the Maybach.

She slid into the backseat.

Julian was there. He was wearing a tuxedo. He was typing on his phone, the blue light illuminating his sharp cheekbones. He didn't look up.

"You came," Serena breathed. "Thank you."

Julian kept typing. "Don't flatter yourself," he said, his voice flat. "I saw the report on your bag sales. Selling your inheritance to strangers... it's pathetic. I won't have my wife looking like an abandoned stray in front of her vultures of a family."

"I... I got funding," she said, wanting to share her news. "A company called Moonlight Ventures."

Julian's thumb paused over the screen for a millisecond. Then he continued typing.

"Good for you," he said. "Maybe now you can buy your own handbags."

Serena turned away, biting her lip to keep from crying. He was here, but he wasn't with her.

...

Julian put his phone away. He looked at her reflection in the darkened window. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her that he was Moonlight Ventures. That he had set up the shell company three hours ago. That he had threatened the head of Aurora to take the distribution deal.

But he couldn't. Not when she looked at him with that mixture of fear and defiance. Not when she still dreamt of another man.

He reached out and took her hand. His grip was loose, impersonal.

"Look happy," he said as the car turned into the Vance driveway. "It's showtime."

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