Stasia Needmore was eating raspberries.

      The high tide of summer was bearing down upon London. With the hot summer sun came the sweet season of ripened berries. As the fruits touched Stasia's lips, their coral color stained her rose lips.

      She picked up her newspaper and flicked through the finance sections as she ate, the warm morning air embracing her skin. There was a lot of work to do, as per usual. A press conference, several board meetings and contracts to sign. Stasia was proposing a new line of baked goods for the Lion Group in a week, so the run-up to her presentation was going to be extremely stressful.

     Life as an entrepreneur could be difficult at times. But Stasia's iron grip over the Lion Group conglomerate's retail sector was preceded by several of her hard-working family; all entrepreneurs born with silver spoons in their mouths, like her. Taking the role of CEO was destined for Stasia at birth.

     She glanced briefly at the clock hanging on her wall, noting it was ten o'clock already. Her husband Beau was surely up by now, getting ready in his en-suite bathroom. She sighed, closing her newspaper quietly as she contemplated.

     Their house was spacious enough to accommodate separate rooms, so Beau and Stasia never slept in the same bed. Whenever they happened to cross paths, it felt like the couple were strangers. Not a word of acknowledgement passed from their lips. 

    Even if Beau and Stasia used to be a couple. Even if they used to be in love.

    Stasia swallowed another raspberry lightly, focusing on the combined tang and sweetness. Actually, raspberries were an accurate metaphor for her relationship with Beau. 

    Three years ago, Stasia agreed to marry Beau because they were in love. It was the typical workplace story. Ball-breaker CEO, daughter of the prestigious Needmore family, met an intern and they fell in love. Beau was kind and charming, so naturally girls fawned over him.

     Stasia remembered the first time that Beau brought in coffee for her. He looked into her eyes with a charming smile and gently placed the cup down, offering a polite word. "Your hair looks nice." Yes, that was what Beau said to her.

     Beau was never overbearing, or assuming. He obliged Stasia's needs without being asked. Beau was cute without trying. How was she not supposed to fall in love with him?

     When Stasia proposed to Beau, he agreed with enthusiasm. They shared a kiss, and he bought her macaroons. Her favorite flavor was raspberry, so Beau selected a whole row of raspberry macaroons for her. Stasia never felt so treasured in her life.

     After returning home from a long day of work, Beau was always waiting with a home-cooked meal for her. They'd sit and eat together. He always asked how she was doing. But Stasia never asked him back.

    When Stasia and Beau moved in together, Stasia struggled. She was raised for the workplace, not to keep a home. She brought in housekeepers, but Beau refused. He wanted to keep their home private.

    Stasia noticed that after a few months, resentment festered in Beau's eyes. His kind, sweet nature grew tired and lifeless. Stasia watched her husband's spirit disintegrate as he toiled, day after day, to ensure that they were living well.

     Stasia knew that she was a difficult person. But after an odd twenty years of life, it was difficult to change her habits.

     Stasia heard a sound from the hall, and she snapped her newspaper open. She took up her coffee mug, taking a sip as Beau entered the room. His eyes looked sleepy and tired as he headed into the kitchen.

     Their living room adjoined to the kitchen, so Stasia and Beau always saw each other in the mornings. It was the one routine that remained consistent between the couple.

  Beau glanced over at Stasia as he opened the fridge, but Stasia kept her eyes resolutely on her newspaper. Her eyes ran over the same words multiple times, absorbing nothing, because she was trying to observe Beau.

     His mouth opened in a yawn as he rummaged through the fridge, before extracting a bottle of orange juice. He took out a glass tumbler from the cupboard and poured himself a cup, taking a measured sip before he started making breakfast.

     Stasia's eyes focused on Beau's full mouth as he drank. Her husband looked especially good in the mornings, with his hair messy and his muscles outlined through his top. Beau's business suits and carefully arranged hair, when he was outside in the day, looked nearly as good.

      Beau's eyes turned to her, and Stasia practically threw the newspaper up in front of her eyes, like it was a wall to hide behind. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying Beau hadn't noticed her staring.

     "Good morning." his low voice spoke to the air, raspy with sleep. Stasia waited for a moment, her eyes wide and heart beating, as she realised that Beau was offering an olive branch.

    She cleared her throat, her face flushing as she replied, "Good morning." She didn't dare take her eyes off the newspaper.

     They returned to silence. Stasia tried to read more of her newspaper, but the words wouldn't come to her. Being dyslexic wasn't exactly helpful. The letters spun before her eyes, reinventing themselves into completely unrecognisable words.

     "So how about having breakfast-" Stasia started bravely, putting the newspaper down, when she realised that the kitchen was vacant, and the stove was newly empty. Beau was gone.

      Her cheeks coloring in embarrassment, Stasia put her paper down and sighed. She got up, her professional heels clicking on the polished rosemary oak floor as Stasia made her way to her bedroom. She'd take her meetings remotely today.

❈

     Beau Talbot was sick of Stasia Needmore.

     His wife was the equivalent of a dragon, feasting on innocent rabbits for fun. Every day, Beau would see Stasia at work and recoil. She was always flanked by twenty professional-looking men and women; she was always walking at top speed, and she looked perpetually emotionless.

     Whenever someone upset his wife, a situation which Beau knew intimately, Stasia's lip would curl in derision and her eyes would flash. Coolly, she'd deliver an icy, heavy-hitting remark designed to freeze her opponent in place. Call her a dragon or a harpy, Stasia Needmore knew how to bring a man to his knees.

     Beau would know. Somehow, he fell for Stasia three years ago, and his life became a hell ever since.

     Beau didn't pity himself, though. He knew that this sham marriage was entirely his fault. If he hadn't loved Stasia Needmore foolishly, then Beau would never have experienced such an opulent, miserable life to lead. What ever made him say yes?

     Perhaps it was Stasia's eyes, that day. They held such sweetness and beauty, like a tempting fruit just within his reach, that Beau just couldn't be disposed to reject her. Yes, that was most likely it.

     As Beau dressed in his room, straightening his tie in front of the mirror, he thought about Stasia Needmore. Metres away, she was sitting in her own room, probably at her desk. She'd have started the working day, because she hated idleness.

    Beau walked through their mansion until he reached the front door. He squinted as he stepped out into the sunshine, and began the trek along the main path to the front gate.

     The drive to his office would be relatively quick, thanks to the lack of traffic. If Stasia was also going to their work, her chauffeur would drive the Needmore heiress in a separate car.

     Beau rolled his eyes. Why was he thinking about Stasia suddenly? Perhaps it was the sweet raspberries that attracted him, that morning. When he went into the kitchen to get orange juice, the scent was intoxicating.

     That morning, Beau was astounded to see Stasia sitting so casually near him. She was languidly relaxing on the living room couch, eating those raspberries without a care in the world. Still, the way the pink juice ran down her lip...

     That's enough, Beau sharply reprimanded himself. He was being stupid. For the rest of the drive, Beau resolutely pushed Stasia Needmore out of his thoughts.

     Work was invigorating. Beau's reputation for efficiency caught Stasia's eye, when he first moved to work for the Lion Group. He was reputed amongst his colleagues as one of the most attractive go-getters in their whole company. Except for Stasia Needmore, of course. 

      But Stasia was so intimidating that even before she got married, no one dared to ask her out. Sitting at her massive desk with a row of pearls on her neck, drilling holes into people's eyes with her customary glare. No, Stasia was never approachable.

     "Beau!" his friend and colleague from the law department Alex approached Beau's office, smiling through the glass. Beau got up from his desk to open the door. Alex rushed in straight away, giving him a quick handshake. "How's it going?"

      Beau let out a harassed sigh, shuffling through the papers in his hands. "Like always. How's your day been?"

     Alex smiled, like the golden retriever he was at heart. "Better than usual. Can you believe it?"

     "What?" Beau asked distractedly, his eyes glued to a form.

     Alex stared at him like he had two heads, complaining,  "Man, you're unobservant. Look at my hand."

     It was such an odd request that Beau had to oblige. But when he saw the ring that Alex was sporting, wiggling his ring finger with obvious pride, Beau felt sick. He stared at the diamond in silent incredulity. 

     "I'm getting married to Suki!" Alex squealed, grinning all over. "The wedding's next year."

     "Congratulations." Beau stammered out, unable to think or comprehend, or even know what to say next. "I'm so happy for you."

     Beau covered up the immense horror and caution that was swarming his heart. He fought the urge to shout at Alex, to beg him to run away as far as possible from the country. Marriage to Suki would lead to no good end.

     Suki Waterhouse was almost as notorious as Stasia Needmore. They were both rich, powerful women from old-money families, and Suki's modelling career kept her rotating in the same stratosphere as Stasia. As such, Suki and Stasia were great friends.

     The way Beau envisioned it, in three years' time, Suki and Alex's marriage would be in the same miserable state that Beau and Stasia's was. Maybe even worse, if fate chose it.

     "Are you going to invite us?" Beau's brain invented wildly.

      Alex gave him an odd smile. "Obviously. Why would I be here otherwise? 

     Beau inhaled slowly, bracing his hands on the edge of his desk. "I have absolutely no clue."

     "You'll get a proper invitation later, but Suki wants to get a professional photographer first. Who did you and Stasia use?" Alex asked innocently.

     Beau cleared his throat uncomfortably. Honestly, he had no idea about whoever Stasia employed as their wedding photographer. "Stasia knows. I'll send you the details after work."

     Alex's smile was radiant. "Sounds good. I can't wait for more double dates in future."

     Beau resisted the urge to gulp nervously. No one knew about his marriage's failure with Stasia. When Alex and Suki invited them for dates together, Beau found it hard to say no. Consequently, the quartet spent many awkward evenings exchanging anecdotes over dinner.

Suki became suspicious over time about the state of Stasia and Beau's marriage, but Alex was oblivious as ever. Beau's smile was more like a grimace. "Can't wait."

      As Alex left his office, Beau sank into his chair, feeling abjectly devastated. He buried his face in his hands, heaving a sigh as he muttered to himself, "What did I do to deserve this?"

     He waited out the last five hours of work before heading out to a bar. The only cure to misery was getting shit-faced, as Beau intimately knew. Well, coming home drunk would be a spanner in the works, given Stasia's permanent residence, but Beau was determined to enjoy his last few years as a free man.

❈

A/N: First chapter! What do you think?