Mistress Commission: 'Design Our Rings!' But Darling I'm Still His WIFE novel Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Six months had passed since the divorce was finalized.

I moved into the loft above my studio–a clean, open space filled with natural light and the quiet hum of creativity. No memories. No ghosts.

Just me, my sketches, and the life I was rebuilding from scratch.

The jewelry brand I’d launched post divorce was gaining traction. Small, but steady. My designs were personal–raw, emotional pieces that told stories of resilience and rebirth.

But I knew if I wanted to scale, I needed to shift gears. Personal wasn’t enough anymore. I needed commercial viability. Distribution channels. A partner who understood the business side.

That’s when I met Jasper Hale.

It was at a trade show in Manhattan–one of those massive jewelry expos where designers, buyers, and investors mingled under glittering chandeliers.

1 was manning my booth, fielding questions about a collection inspired by shattered glass and second chances, when a man in a sharp navy suit stopped in front of my display.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just studied the pieces with an intensity that made me uncomfortable.

“These are stunning,” he finally said, his voice smooth, measured. “But they’re too niche for mass market.”

1 bristled. “Excuse me?”

He looked up, and I got my first real look at him. Mid–thirties, dark hair, sharp jawline. Eyes that were calculating but not unkind.

“I’m not criticizing your work,” he said, holding up a hand. “I’m saying you’re sitting on a goldmine, but you’re marketing to the wrong audience.”

“And you are?”

“Jasper Hale. I run a distribution network for high–end jewelry. I’ve been looking for a designer with your kind of talent–someone who can create pieces that tell a story but also move units.”

I crossed my arms. “So you want me to sell out.”

He smiled–slow, deliberate. “I want you to succeed. There’s a difference.”

We met three more times over the next month.

Coffee. Lunch. A gallery opening where he introduced me to potential investors.

Each time, he was professional, sharp, and maddeningly persuasive.

He didn’t just talk about profit margins and market trends. He talked about legacy. About building something that would outlast us both.

“You’ve got the vision, Amelia,” he said one evening over wine at a rooftop bar. “I’ve got the infrastructure. Together? We could build something unstoppable.”

I studied him across the table. There was something magnetic about Jasper–an ambition that mirrored my own, a hunger I recognized.

“Fifty–fifty partnership.” I said. “Equal stake. Equal say.”

He extended his hand. “Deal.”

We shook on it.

And just like that, J&A Jewelry was born.

The next six months were a blur.

Product development. Branding meetings. Investor pitches.

I threw myself into the work with a ferocity that bordered on obsession. Every waking hour was consumed by sketches, prototypes, marketing strategies.

Jasper matched my intensity. He was relentless–always pushing, always three step ahead

We worked late into the night, fueled by coffee and ambition. Sometimes. I’d catch him watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

But I didn’t have time to think about it. I dith! have time to think about anything except the brand.

Until one Saturday morning, when gullt finally dragged me home.

I hadn’t been back to my parents‘ house in months.

When I walked through the door, the silence hit me first.

No laughter. No warmth. Just… emptiness.

“Mom?”

I found her in the living room, curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the wall.

Her eyes were red and swollen. She looked like she’d aged a decade.

“Mom, what’s wrong? Where’s Dad?”

She didn’t answer right away. Just pulled a tissue from the box beside her and pressed it to her face.

When she finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.

“He’s gone, Amelia.”

My stomach dropped. “Gone? What do you mean gone?”

“He left me.” Her voice cracked. “For her.”

The story came out in broken fragments, punctuated by sobs.

My father had been having an affair. For years.

With a woman named Whitney Stone.

And they had a daughter. Valeria. Just a few months younger than me.

“She came here,” my mother whispered, her hands trembling. “Whitney. She stood in our living room and told me I was pathetic. That I’d been living a lie. That your father never loved me–he just stayed out of obligation.”

“And then she smiled, Amelia. She smiled and said, ‘He’s mine now.“”

I felt like I’d been punched in the chest.

My father. The man who’d held my hand through my divorce. Who’d told me I deserved better. Who’d promised to always protect me.

That man had done this.

I found him three days later at a penthouse downtown–Whitney’s place, apparently.

He opened the door looking older, tired. Guilty.

“Amelia-”

“Don’t.” I shoved past him into the apartment. “Don’t you dare say my name like you have the right.”

“Let me explain-”

“Explain?!” I whirled on him, fury boiling over. “You stood by me when Julian cheated. You told me I deserved loyalty. Respect. And the whole time, you were doing the exact same thing to Mom?!”

He flinched but said nothing.

“How long?” I demanded. “How long have you been lying to us?”

Twenty years.

The words hit like a slap.

“Twenty years,” I repeated, my voice shaking. “You had a whole other family. Another daughter. And you just… what? Pretended we were enough?”

“It wasn’t like that-

“Then what was it like?! telp me understand how the man who raised me could do this!”

He looked at me then, his expression hardening.

Tm a man, Amelia,”

I stared at him, stunned.

“That’s it? That’s your excuse?”

He didn’t answer.

I turned and walked out.

I stayed home after that. Pushed all my work aside.

Jasper called. Texted. Asked if I was okay.

I didn’t respond.

I couldn’t.

All I could do was sit with my mother and watch her fall apart.

She stopped eating. Stopped sleeping. Stopped existing in any real way.

“I gave him everything,” she whispered one night, staring at nothing. “And it still wasn’t enough.”

I held her hand, my own heart breaking.

“You were always enough, Mom. He’s the one who failed.”

But she didn’t hear me,

Three weeks later, I got the call.

Car accident. She’d been crossing the street, distracted, lost in her own grief.

The driver said she walked right into traffic. Didn’t even look.

By the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone.

I don’t remember much from the funeral.

Just flashes. Faces. Condolences that meant nothing.

My father showed up. I didn’t look at him.

Whitney and Valeria stayed away. Smart.

But Jasper was there.

He stood at the back, quiet, respectful. Didn’t try to approach me.

Just… stayed.

After everyone left, he found me sitting alone by my mother’s grave.

I’m sorry,” he said softly, sitting down beside me.

17:18

Mistress Commission: ‘Design Our Rings!‘ But Darling, I’m Still His WIFE

Chapter &

I didn’t respond.

If you need time-

“I dont need time.” My voice was hollow. “I need to work.”

He looked at me, concern flickering in his eyes. “Amelia-”

“Please, Jasper. Just… let me work.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Over the next few weeks, Jasper became my anchor.

He didn’t push. Didn’t pry. Just showed up.

Brought me coffee when I forgot to eat. Stayed late when I couldn’t bear to go home. Listened when I finally broke down and cried.

He held me when the nightmares came–the ones where I saw my mother’s face in those final moments, lost and alone.

He did things no business partner would do.

And somewhere in the grief and exhaustion, I started to see him differently.

One night, after a particularly brutal day, he drove me home.

We sat in the car outside my building, the engine idling.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do. You’ve been… more than I deserve.”

He turned to face me, his expression serious.

“Amelia, I need to tell you something.”

My heart stuttered. “What?”

“I care about you. Not just as a partner. As… more.”

I stared at him, my breath catching.

“I know the timing’s terrible,” he continued, his voice steady. “And I’m not asking you to feel the same way. I just… I needed you to know.”

For a long moment, I didn’t say anything.

Then, slowly, I reached for his hand.

“I care about you too.”

He smiled–soft, genuine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

We took it slow after that.

Dinners. Walks. Quiet moments stolen between meetings.

Jasper was patient. Kind. Everything Julian and my father weren’t

Tm not them,” he told me one night, his hand cupping my face. “I won’t hurt you like they did. I promise.”

1 wanted to believe him.

Three months later, J&A Jewelry was finally ready for its official launch

17:18

Mistress Commission: Design Our Rings! But Darling, I’m Still His WIFE

Chapter 8

We’d secured a spot at the annual New York Jewelry Gala–the klid of event where deals worth millions were made over champagne and canapés,

I spent hours getting ready, slipping into a sleek black gownt that hugged every curve. My hair was swept up, diamond earrings my own design glinting at my

THIS.

When Jasper picked me up, his eyes went wide.

You look incredible.”

I smiled, feeling a flutter of nerves. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He did. Tailored tuxedo, hair perfectly styled, that confident smile that made my stomach flip.

He offered his arm. “Ready to take over the world?”

“Let’s do it.”

The gala was held at the Plaza–all marble columns, crystal chandeliers, and New York’s elite dripping in diamonds.

Jasper and I worked the room like a well–oiled machine. He introduced me to investors, buyers, industry veterans. I charmed them with stories behind my designs, the vision for J&A.

Everything was going perfectly.

Until I saw her.

She was across the room, standing near the bar in a shimmering gold dress that screamed “look at me.”

Young. Beautiful. Confident.

And heading straight for Jasper.

I watched, frozen, as she approached him with a dazzling smile.

“Mr. Hale?” Her voice was sweet, almost musical. “I’ve been hoping to meet you all evening.”

Jasper turned, polite but guarded. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

“Not yet.” She extended a perfectly manicured hand. “I’m Valeria Stone. I’ve been following J&A’s launch–very impressive work.”

My blood turned to ice.

Valeria Stone.

My father’s other daughter.

My… sister.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

She was still talking, her hand lingering in Jasper’s just a beat too long.

“I’m actually in the industry myself–gemstone sourcing. I’d love to discuss potential collaborations. I think we could do amazing things together.”

Her eyes flicked to me for just a second.

And in that split second, I saw it.

The calculation. The venom. The smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

She knew exactly who I was.

Jasper followed her gaze and spotted me. His expression shifted immediately–concern, confusion.

“Amelia.” He stepped toward me, pulling his hand free from Valeria’s. “There you are. I want you to meet,”

“Valeria Stone,” I finished, my voice flat. “I know.”

24

Chapter’s

Valeria’s smile widened, all innocence and light.

h! You know my name? How wonderful.” She tilted her head, playing coy. “I don’t believe we’ve met, though. Have we?”

I stared at her, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

Jasper looked between us, sensing the tension. “Do you two know each other?”

Valeria’s eyes sparkled with barely concealed delight.

“Actually,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “Amelia and I are… sisters.”

The word hung in the air like a bomb.

Jasper’s face went blank. “What?”

“Half–sisters, technically,” Valeria continued, her tone light, conversational. “Same father. Different mothers. It’s complicated.” She laughed–a soft, tinkling sound that made my skin crawl.

“Family drama, you know how it is.”

I felt Jasper’s gaze on me, but I couldn’t look at him.

All I could see was her.

“I’m so glad we finally get to meet properly, Amelia,” Valeria said, her voice syrupy. “I’ve heard so much about you. Dad talks about you all the time.”

My hands curled into fists at my sides.

“Does he.”

“Oh, absolutely. He’s so proud of what you’ve accomplished.” She glanced at Jasper, then back at me. “And now, working with someone as talented as Mr. Hale? You must be thrilled.”

She was good. I’d give her that.

Every word perfectly calculated to sound genuine while twisting the knife.

Jasper finally found his voice. “Amelia, I—”

“It’s fine,” I said, cutting him off. My voice was calm. Too calm. “Valeria and I have a… complicated history.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Valeria murmured, her smile never faltering.

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