Rachel glanced at her phone. The message was from Valeria.
She rolled her eyes before even opening WhatsApp.
It was a photo.
The image showed a string of prayer beads, deliberately snapped and scattered across what looked like expensive bedsheets.
Rachel’s stomach dropped as she stared at the screen.
Those prayer beads–she’d dragged herself halfway around the world to Tibet two years ago to get them blessed at the Potala Palace.
She’d been such a naive romantic back then, believing in all that spiritual protection bullshit. To prove her devotion, she’d climbed endless stone steps in thin air, performed traditional prostrations until her knees were bloody, and waited for hours in freezing temperatures for some monk to bless the damn things.
She remembered that trip–the altitude making her dizzy, her designer jeans torn from all the ceremonial kneeling. But she’d felt so fucking righteous about it.
She’d wanted those beads to protect Jasper, to keep him safe and successful. God, she’d been pathetic.
When she’d given them to him, he’d acted all touched, spinning her around their apartment. “Babe, you’re incredible. I’m the luckiest
bastard alive,” he’d said.
Now those “sacred” beads were destroyed–just another piece of trash in Valeria’s bedroom.
The whole thing felt like the universe’s sick sense of humor.
Another message popped up, oozing fake concern:
“OMG Ana! I’m SO sorry! Jasper gave me these beads for protection–I think you got them on some spiritual retreat or whatever?
Anyway, I totally broke them by accident! You’re not mad, are you??”
“I feel horrible but Jasper said they were just cheap tourist stuff anyway so no biggie if they’re broken! Hope you understand!?”
Valeria was practically purring with satisfaction. Nothing got her off quite like twisting the knife.
Rachel stared at the carnage for exactly three seconds before firing back: “Honestly? They were garbage. Got them at a gift shop for like $10. You can buy a dozen on Amazon if you want. Though I doubt prayer beads can help someone with your karma. ?”
Valeria’s response was immediate rage. Was this uptight bitch actually coming for her?
That fucking princess was about to learn what/real pain felt like.
Rachel was already basically an orphan. Onde Valeria finished destroying her professionally and personally, she’d have nothing left to live for.
The thought made Valeria practically giddy.
But Rachel had already moved on from Valeria’s juvenile mind games. She was too busy looking forward to her new life as Mrs.
Rhodes.
She twisted the heavy signet ring on her finger, wondering what Cassian was doing at this exact moment.
She still couldn’t believe she’d married a complete stranger.
12:16
Game Over, Mafia Boss! Now Pay in Blood For Killing Our Three Kids
Chapter 16
But zero regrets so far.
On impulse, she opened Cassian’s WhatsApp profile.
Ilis avatar caught her completely off guard. Instead of some corporate power shot, it showed an artistic latte with an incredibly detailed leaf pattern in the foam. The delicate, almost feminine image seemed totally wrong for someone so intimidating
Cassian Rhodes was a coffee art enthusiast?
The specific design triggered something in her memory–she’d definitely seen that exact pattern before, but couldn’t remember where.
While she was still puzzling over it, a new message appeared.
Cassian: “You up?”
Rachel quickly typed back: Just about to sleep.
“Good. FYI, my parents are dying to meet you.” The message hit like a freight train.
Rachel’s heart immediately started hammering. Meeting the in–laws was inevitable, but Jesus, could they not ease into this?
She forced herself to sound casual: “Sure, whenever works for you.”
He seemed satisfied: “Perfect. Get some sleep.”
“Night!” After closing the chat, Rachel could still feel her pulse racing.
Get it together, Ana!
This whole thing was just a business arrangement–two people helping each other solve family problems. That’s it.
Nothing more, nothing less.
…Right?
