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Once You Were Mine

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Blurb

Matio, a powerful and influential businessman, heir to the Rodriguez group. Whereas he controls the entire business sector, he has to accept an arranged marriage for revenge.

Sara, a half-Asian woman, has succeeded in her career and is passionate about the things that make her happy, but she has never been able to win her father's affection or attention. She is ready to do anything to get at least an ounce of love from her father, but accepting a marriage with a stranger?

she never expected that. What happens when Matio realizes he was duped into marrying the wrong woman? Will he be able to exact his vengeance nonetheless? Why does he feel the need to get revenge? Will Sarah be strong enough to handle Matio? In the end, Matio, the one who is feared by all is lost in the eyes of his wife, He is willing to sacrifice all to simply have his bride at his side.

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Chapter-1 Sara Ikari
Sara's POV: I opened the door, and there he was, with the most satisfying smile. He took a mouthful of chocolate cheesecake, and the guy also had a croissant on his table. I love it when I see the smile on the customer's face when they take a bite of my food. The Akika appears a little packed even though it is only 10 a.m., and that is for obvious reasons. The frequent visitors to Akika appear to be aware that I only come here once a week. When I bake, the sales are frequently high. I entered the kitchen while silently navigating the crowd. "Sarah, I have been waiting for you; at last you are here. Why did it take you so long? Stephen enquired. “You are aware of the awful traffic in this area, right ?” I said. It feels more like an excuse than a justification that I was late because I had to assist my sister in getting dressed. One of Boston's best bakeries is AkIka Cafe. I love this space. For me, there is a constant sense of belonging here. "Where are you lost, Sarah?" Stephen asked. "It is Sara, not Sarah or Serah. You have been my friend for the past 3 years," I said. "Okay, okay, Ms.Ikari , Gomen Nasai." Stephen apologized. I laughed as I smacked him with a recipe book. I am going to bake the well-known Akika pie, croissants, and chocolate truffles. Please provide the ingredients to me. I say, "I will handle the counter in the interim." Despite just having been in business for a year, Akika is profitable and ranks as the greatest dessert shop in the city. I initially found it difficult to handle it by myself. Stephen reached out to help me. Stephen graduated from the same university as me. We did a masters in business management. Recently, we have even hired helpers and a chief. I still prefer to take some time out and bake here. Although our cook, Suzanne, is excellent at everything she does, the customers absolutely adore Akika Pie, and I am the only one who has the recipe. I discovered the recipe in my mother's cookbook. The man I had seen when I entered the cafe was standing at the counter as I stepped up to it. "Arigato, gozaimas, and do visit again." I said goodbye to him with a smile. Whether the other person notices it or not, always be grateful and keep your stance. Akika is Akira Ikari, my mom's name. I am from the Ikari clan; though no one uses the word clan these days, I love it. I am an American-born Asian, and my mother is entirely Asian; she is from Japan. Even the décor of the Akika cafe has a hint of Japanese culture. I do not remember what my mom looked like but I see her in this cafe, I feel her here. I am an art exhibition director at Larsen Art Gallery. Thanks to my work and dedication, I became an art director by the age of 26. Actually, it is not dedication; it is just for praise from my father, just for a proud look on my father's face, just for a few words of 'I am proud of you', just those mere words. And guess what? I never heard any search words from him. My father and mother flew down to America from Japan. My father is Hinata Ikari, CEO of Ikari Pharmaceutical, one of the leading pharmacies in the US. He gave his blood and sweat to the company; the company is more of his child than I ever was. He has a good reputation in his field, but he is still new money, and my dad is hell bent on making a good amount of money, though he is a millionaire himself. My dad and mom started this venture on their own with less money, but I am proud of the way he is now. My mom, Akira Ikari, who was very beautiful, after whom I named AkIka. I am not as attractive as she ever was. I heard that she was a very lovely woman. I was 2 when she passed away. I can not recall how she appeared, and thanks to Agnez, I regrettably do not have any images of her. My mom, as her roots are from Japan, always carried the culture with her. I heard from my Nanny that my mom loves to bake, and she is down to earth as well. I started to kneed dough for the bread and kept the pie and croissants for baking. My phone rang. I looked at the clock, and it was just 1 PM, and no one really bothered to call me at this time. I am here with Stephen, so I would say nobody. I communicated with my team via mail about the art gallery exhibit. I have an art exhibit that starts at nine o'clock, and I will be in New York by eight. I can not, for whatever reason, miss my day at Akika. As the director of the art exhibition, I made sure that everything was prepared for the gallery display. I removed the gloves and pulled the phone out of my pocket, and I was a bit taken aback by seeing my dad's name on the screen. Getting a call from my dad on a random Wednesday afternoon is hitting me differently. I just hope there is nothing serious. Whenever I get a call from my dad, I fear that my worst nightmare might come true. I fear that he is going to disown me or be disappointed in me. I lifted the call hesitantly, "Hello, Dad?" I spoke. "Where are you at? Are you home?" He said, did not even bother to say hello. "I am in Boston, myself," I said. "Okay, drop by home tonight; let us have dinner," he said. What? Dinner? With my dad? I never, in my dream, assumed my dad would call and ask me for dinner. In fact, I never had a family dinner, as far as my memory serves. I do not know how to react. Should I be happy, worried, or scared? I have an art exhibition today; if the dinner is at 7, I can still try to manage. "At what time?" I ask. "At 7:30 p.m.," he replied. I tried to give him my reasons. "Dad, I have a..." "I will not hear a no as an answer; show up," he said, and even before I replied, the line went silent. Why is my life always this pretty f****d up? I groaned in frustration. I could not say no to my father, but I should also be at the exhibition tonight. It is okay, Sara; you can do both, I assure myself. I do not want to face my father's wrath. But something is unsettling in my gut. I feel something weird in my lower abdomen; maybe a ball of anxiety is building up. I wonder why Dad suddenly bothered to have dinner with me. God, just let everything be good. It would be better if I finished off here early and reached Bella's apartment. I will get ready there and will leave for my dad's place and from there I can directly reach the airport. This sounds good, I hope everything goes just the way I planned.

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