Heartbreak Made Me Strong, Love Made Me WholeChapter 1
At eleven, I was brought into the Whitmore family. Cohen Whitmore, sitting in his wheelchair with a calm demeanor, promised to take care of me from that day forward. His voice had been steady, but it carried a warmth I had never known.
At seventeen, my heart, bold and hopeful, led me to confess my feelings for him. Cohen's cold response shattered me. He called me shameless and threw me out of the Whitmore family without hesitation.
At twenty-one, he stormed into my room in the dead of night and asked if I was willing. My answer came in a kiss filled with all the love I had held for him over the years.
At twenty-three, I discovered I was carrying his child. Cohen said I had exhausted all his trust.
At twenty-four, with no strength left to endure, I staged my death and disappeared.
The years I spent tied to Cohen were like fleeting stars cutting through an endless night, beautiful but tragically brief. No matter how bright they burned, their light was destined to fade too quickly, leaving nothing but darkness in their wake.
1
It was the opening day of my graduation art exhibition, a moment I had been eagerly anticipating.
Cohen had gone above and beyond, hiring the nation’s top team and pouring nearly ten million into setting up the event in the heart of the city.
Everything was perfect until three days before the opening.
His assistant delivered the crushing news with an air of practiced detachment and informed me that someone had accused me of plagiarism and all my works had been removed.
I stood frozen, my mind reeling with disbelief. Plagiarism? My works? It felt like the ground beneath me had crumbled.
Desperation clawed at my chest as I grabbed my phone and dialed the exhibition organizer, seeking clarity.
Their response, however, struck like a bolt of lightning.
“Miss Belmont, the accuser is your fiancé, Mr. Whitmore. He instructed us to remove everything. If you have any objections, he said you should take it up with him directly.”
The phone slipped from my hand, crashing to the ground with a sharp crack as the screen splintered into jagged shards.
Before I could react, the door swung open, and Cohen walked in, a bouquet of vibrant flowers cradled in his arms, his expression serene as if nothing had happened.