Sharon stirred awake, blinking against the morning light that streamed through her curtains. She reached for her phone, groaning when she saw the time.
"Damn it," she muttered. She was late.
Yesterday's emotional rollercoaster had taken its toll. But she had no time to wallow. Sweet Tooth, the little bakery her mother left behind needed her. It was the only thing Sharon had, the only dream she and her late mother had shared. And she refused to let it crumble.
As was her habit, she opened her social media to check who was trending. She liked drama, just not when she was the subject of it. Sweet Tooth's online presence was her baby. Her way of keeping it afloat. But nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.
A photo of her.
The caption punched her in the gut.
"Millionaire's daughter, Sharon Moore, marries a pauper after her younger sister weds a millionaire heir. What a shame."
Her heart dropped. Her hands shook.
"This… this can't be happening," she whispered.
She hesitated before scrolling down to the comments.
@smiley😂 – What a cheap girl. Dragging the Moore name into the mud.
@x_ternal – She's a liability. I'd disown her if I were them.
There were more. Dozens more.
Sharon flung her phone onto the bed and pressed a hand over her heart. "They know nothing… nothing about me."
She sat in silence for a moment, then stood and got dressed. She had to get to the bakery. She had to work. She needed something to keep her from breaking.
Downstairs, the Moore family was already gathered for breakfast. As Sharon passed the dining room, Shirley's voice rang out.
"Aren't you joining us for breakfast?"
Sharon didn't bother to reply. She simply rolled her eyes and kept walking.
Shirley scoffed. "Whatever."
Eli ignored her presence entirely, sipping his coffee like she didn't exist.
"Sissy," Madina called, her voice honey-sweet. "The Wilmorts are throwing a party for Jason and me. Please dress appropriately. We'd hate for you to embarrass the family again."
Sharon clenched her fists and turned to leave.
"Oh, and Sharon?" Liddy's voice was smug. "Did you see the news, dear? You're trending. In the worst way, of course."
Eli stood abruptly and left the table, his silence louder than any insult.
"As the eldest, shouldn't you try harder not to disappoint Dad?" Rose added with fake concern. The girls laughed as Sharon walked out.
"Pathetic little girl," Liddy muttered.
LANCASTER MANSION
Ethan and his grandmother sat at the breakfast table. The quiet was soon broken by a knock on the door.
"Come in," Ethan said.
Jay entered, bowing slightly. "Good morning, Mrs. Lancaster."
"You again," the old woman sighed. "Do you ever let my grandson eat in peace? Do you want him to die young from stress?"
Ethan smiled. "It's okay, Granny."
"No, it's not," she grumbled, folding her arms and looking away.
Jay cleared his throat. "Sir, I think you should see this." He held up his phone.
Ethan took one glance, then pushed it aside and resumed eating.
Mrs. Lancaster leaned forward to see the screen. "What is that?"
Jay hesitated. "It's about your wife, sir. She's trending."
Ethan didn't flinch. "Leave it. Let them talk."
Jay blinked in disbelief. "Are you sure, sir?"
Ethan raised a brow. "Is there anything else?"
"No, sir." Jay bowed and left, still baffled.
He really doesn't care? Or is this his way of caring? Jay wondered as the door closed behind him.
Mrs. Lancaster narrowed her eyes on her grandson. "She doesn't know who you are, does she?"
"No," Ethan replied quietly.
"And what are you planning to do with her?"
Ethan finally looked up. "Maria Lancaster, you really are a curious little woman."
She gasped. "How dare you?"
He chuckled, leaned in, and kissed her forehead. "I'm off to work. See you later."
As he walked away, her sharp eyes followed him. "This boy is just like his grandfather. Always full of secrets."
Sharon arrived at the bakery, head held high despite the stares from customers and passersby. She slipped into the back, pulling on her apron and tying her hair up.
A familiar voice greeted her. "Good morning, boss!"
"Hey, Maggie," Sharon said with a tired smile. "Any customers?"
"Just a few so far."
Sharon exhaled. "We'll need more than a few if we want to survive."
Maggie smiled brightly. "Don't worry. We'll get there. I believe in you."
Sharon nodded, grateful. But before she could say more, Maggie's face tensed.
"About the news this morning…"
"I don't want to talk about it," Sharon said quickly, turning back to the oven.
Maggie nodded and left the kitchen, leaving Sharon alone with her thoughts.
But her silence was short-lived. A shadow appeared at the door. A tall figure stood watching her.
Her breath caught.
"Are you... Sharon Moore?"
She turned around, brow raised. "Who's asking?"
The man stepped forward, dressed in a sharp black suit. His presence filled the room like a storm.
"Your husband sent me."
Sharon froze.
What husband?