YOURS IN THE MOMENT

Belinda Chapman's POV

I packed my car and looked at myself in the mirror one last time before going over the contract I drafted, then got out of the car. My excitement was brimming, as it was another day to show my fiancé what I was capable of. I got to the door of his penthouse and imprinted my fingerprint, walking in immediately as the door opened to my command. His penthouse was situated far on the outskirts of the city, and according to him, he loved the solitude of it-the quiet trees that led to it, the quiet environment. I got in and smiled at the portrait he hung beside his huge television, then walked right up the stairs. My steps were gentle, just like he always wanted.

I was getting married to William Walker, the only grandson and heir to the Walker Corporation. I got to the door, my hand on the knob, when I heard his mumbling, so I paused.

"You hate me... you don't love me. Every time you bring the same old shit up. We just had sex to make up, and you're bringing it up again," he said, and I froze. He was sleeping with someone else; my heart shuddered. "Say something, just say something. I hate this constant talk of my marriage. You pushed me into having to deal with that trash. If you'd agreed to marry me, I wouldn't have to deal with her," he added, and my breath caught. He had just referred to me as trash? Trash?

I let go of the handle and was going to leave when another voice caught me.

"Well, you're getting married in the next two weeks, and you'll have to stay stuck with her. Nothing changes."

That voice was too familiar to be true. No, it could not be.

"I'll just send her off on a trip, and we'll have our time together-a week together, honey. We'll go somewhere different to have fun," he said, and I could clearly hear her grumble. It was her. Her.

"That sounds like a good idea. Fine, I'll deal with that."

I couldn't listen to the rest. I stumbled over my feet and staggered down the stairs to the door, my hands shaking as I placed my finger on the fingerprint scanner, then straight to the car. I didn't think twice. I drove out through the open gate and just kept driving down the open road, my car swerving right and left, my brain juggling thoughts before I slammed straight into a tree. My head hit the wheel violently, but somehow I felt no pain. What pain was there to feel other than the fact that my fiancé-the man I was getting married to in the next two weeks-was cheating on me with none other than my twin sister, Melinda Chapman?

Maybe I was the foolish one. I was the quiet one. I was the one who took all the insults. I was the one who wanted peace.