Maya’s POVI leaned back on the plush couch in my apartment, staring at the ceiling. My fingers twirled idly through my hair as memories of the past unfurled, mingling with my current schemes. Emily. She was the anchor of every thought, every plan, every bit of envy that burned quietly within me.It had always been Emily. Back in high school, she was the golden girl—beautiful, driven, and effortlessly adored. Beside her, I was just the shadow, the girl people noticed only when Emily wasn’t around. Even the teachers who praised me for my hard work always added, “You and Emily make such a great team.”A laugh escaped me, bitter and hollow. Emily’s glow made my achievements look like scraps. I’d smiled at her wedding, clapping politely, but the jealousy had gnawed at my stomach as I watched her glide down the aisle. She didn’t just get a husband—she secured Louis Whitman, a man who seemed to have everything: charm, intelligence, and a future paved in gold.When Emily reappeared in my lif
Emily’s POVThe drive to my parents’ house felt longer than usual. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as I sped away from Louis and our marriage. When I arrived, the usual warmth of home greeted me—the gardenias my mother planted still blooming by the porch, the faint aroma of fresh bread wafting from the kitchen. But none of it settled the unease in my chest.“You’re here so soon!” my mother exclaimed, pulling me into a hug.I forced a smile. “I thought I’d surprise you.”She frowned. “What’s wrong?”“I’ve been worried about dad’s health,” I said quickly, brushing past her and into the house. “I wanted to spend time with you both today and get my mind off of everything.”Her brow furrowed with concern, but she let it drop. My father appeared from the living room, frail and pale but smiling as he walked over to hug me. The sight of him weakened something in me, but I pushed the emotions down.“How’s my girl?” he asked as I helped him to his recliner. His heart condition had l
Emily' POVThe pounding on the bedroom door was relentless—each thud louder, angrier than the last. “Emily!” Louis’s voice boomed, full of irritation. “Open the door!”“Emily, open up! This is ridiculous—you’re just being petty!” Maya screeched, her shrill voice grating against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.I didn’t move, arms crossed. From inside, their overlapping voices grew louder—his furious commands clashing with her whiny pleas. “Louis, calm down,” Maya purred. “She’s doing this to make us look bad!”I turned as the clatter of hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway. Lucy swept into view, sporting her polished curls and her garishly flamboyant suit.“What in God’s name is going on here?” She demanded.Without a word, I flung the key at the door with a sharp clink. “There,” I nodded at it with my chin, “Your golden boy and his mistress are locked inside together. Go on, let’s see what Mommy Dearest makes of that.”Lucy glared at me as she stalked forward, snatched u
Emily' POV“A most wonderful friend of mine,” I beamed, eyeing Louis and Lucy cheerfully. “Nice to meet you all.” Damian replied coolly, hands in his pockets. “A friend?” Louis sneered, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Don’t insult me, Emily. What is he? Your lover? Trying to make me jealous?”“Why would I?” I winked, “It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to.”Maya jumped in, angry and mocking. “You have no right to judge anyone when you’ve clearly been screwing around behind Louis’ back!”“Hypocrite,” Louis bit out.“Careful,” Damian said, his voice soft but cutting as he turned to Maya. “People in glass houses should not throw stones. Or the sticks and bricks might just come back for a bite.”Maya went pale and derided. “What’s that supposed to mean?”Damian gave a slight grin “Just don’t reach for things that don’t belong to you.”“Maya?” Louis peered uneasily at her face, “What’s he talking about?”“Everything's fine." Maya said with a faint smile, her voice soft. "They're just
Emily‘s POVI stepped into the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallway of the hospital, the smell of antiseptic stinging my nose. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of nerves and guilt gnawing at my insides. Damian walked beside me, his steady presence both comforting and overwhelming."Are you sure you're okay to do this alone?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.I nodded stiffly. “I’ll be fine. You’ve already done so much. Thank you for coming with me.”He hesitated, his hazel eyes scanning my face as if searching for cracks in the fragile mask I wore. “Call me if you need anything.”I watched him disappear down the hall before taking a deep breath and heading toward my father’s room. The sound of my boots clicking against the tile seemed deafening as I approached the door.Inside, the scene struck me like a blow. My sister, Lola, sat beside our mother, Sienna, who looked like the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders. Lola’s arm was draped around her, murmuring soft reassu
Emily's POVThe dim glow of the flickering neon sign outside the bar cast long shadows across the near-empty room. The coldness of the place wasn’t just physical—it seeped into my bones, wrapping around me like an unwelcome shroud. I sat slumped in the corner, nursing a half-empty bottle of whiskey that I’d convinced myself would help me unwind. Instead, it only made the edges of my world blur into a dark and distorted haze.The bitter liquid burned as it slid down my throat, but it didn’t warm me. I stared at the amber ripples in my glass, my reflection distorted and unrecognizable. My mind swirled with every regret, every misstep. The room around me seemed to grow smaller, the silence louder. It was as if the world had shrunk to just me, my failures, and the suffocating weight of isolation.The alcohol churned in my stomach, threatening to revolt, but I kept drinking. The brave front I’d put on for so long was cracking, revealing the raw, trembling fear underneath. I pulled my coat t
Damian‘s POVSitting in my car with her slumped against the passenger seat, murmuring to herself, I felt the weight of the years between us, the distance that wasn’t just about time but also pain, loss, and things left unsaid.Her voice was low, a soft, slurred mumble. Most of it was unintelligible, but then she said it: “Angel.” The name hit me like a punch to the chest. My grip tightened on the steering wheel as my mind flashed back to the orphanage, to her tear-streaked face looking up at me for comfort. No one called me that anymore. No one even remembered.Except for her.Her tears came in waves as she slumped against my shoulder, crying with the rawness of someone who’d held it in for far too long. It felt like stepping into a memory, back to when she was just a little girl who leaned on me when the world was too cruel. And here she was again, not so little anymore, but still breaking in front of me, trusting me to catch her.I carried her up to my condo, every step heavy with th
Emily‘s povI stood frozen for a moment after I uttered the words, “I’ll think about it.” The room felt heavy, as though my own uncertainty had filled it. Damian's eyes searched mine, a faint glimmer of hope lingering in their depths, but he didn’t press me. He made one hell of a case.“I’m well-educated, have no bad habits, and I would never betray you. You can be sure about that. I take loyalty very seriously.” Damian’s words were steady and confident, a reflection of his composed demeanor.Damian was everything anyone could hope for in a man—kind, empathetic, and the picture of respectability. His every action seemed deliberate, rooted in a deep sense of integrity. Yet, I couldn’t understand why someone like him would want to be with me. My life was a mess. I was a divorcee, reeling from betrayal, and all he’d seen of me was my most vulnerable, broken self.As perfect as Damian seemed, my heart wasn’t ready. The timing felt off, like the universe had decided to test me just as I was
Damian's POVThe restaurant had been packed from the moment the doors opened, the energy electric, the kitchen a well-oiled machine producing dish after dish with precision and perfection. Emily had been in her element, her passion shining through with every plate that left the pass. And now, as the final customers lingered over their desserts and the staff began winding down, she stood at the bar, a champagne flute in hand, her cheeks flushed from the rush of it all.I stood beside her, watching the way her eyes sparkled in the low light. “You should let them close up,” I murmured, swirling the golden liquid in my glass before taking a sip.She turned to me, instantly shaking her head. “I can’t just leave them to do everything. It was a crazy night.”Her assistant manager, a sharp-eyed woman named Lila, overheard and let out an exasperated sigh. “Emily, go. Seriously. We’ve got it under control.”Her sous chef, a burly, no-nonsense guy named Felix, chimed in from across the bar. “We’
Damian's POVFrom across the restaurant, I watched Emily’s expression shift as she spoke on the phone in the office. A faint smile tugged at her lips, her features soft, even playfully relaxed. It was a look I recognized but didn’t often see—at least, not when she was with me. With me, she was always guarded, careful, as if some invisible weight rested on her shoulders.The way her fingers curled loosely around the phone, the way her eyes flickered with amusement—it wasn’t just a casual call. She wasn’t just handling business. This was different. This was personal.My fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of my phone. Nathan’s voice echoed in my mind, teasing and knowing, and I could still hear Emily’s casual remark—"a private invitation."Psychology would categorize this as an irrational jealousy response. But at this moment, I had no intention of suppressing it with logic.Sliding my phone into my pocket, I made my way toward the office.She had just ended the call, still staring a
Emily's POVEmily barely had time to catch her breath before she was back in the kitchen, calling out to her chefs as they fired up dish after dish. The energy was intoxicating, the air thick with the smell of sizzling meats, fragrant broths, and caramelized garlic. But that night for dinner, with their reservations full, there was something new in the mix.Truffle fried rice.The dish had started as an experiment, a luxurious take on a humble classic, and after Nathan’s viral video, she knew the timing was perfect. A blend of creamy truffle, perfectly fried rice, and a balance of umami-rich flavors that made every bite melt on the tongue. She had tested it, perfected it, and now it was ready to make its grand debut.As soon as the first plates hit the tables, the reaction was immediate. Customers took that first bite and practically melted in their seats. Word spread fast, and soon, orders flooded the kitchen, the dish flying off the line like gold dust. It was a hit.Emily barely co
Emily's POVThe kitchen buzzed with energy, the air thick with the scent of sizzling garlic, rich broths, and seared meats. Pans clattered, knives chopped in rhythmic precision, and the steady hum of the lunch rush filled the space. Emily moved with practiced ease, her sleeves rolled up, her hands expertly tossing noodles in a steaming wok. Sweat beaded along her hairline, but she didn’t care. This was her domain, her sanctuary.But then her phone vibrated again. And again. And again.Her brow furrowed as she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, glancing at the notifications flooding her lock screen. Her heart pounded, her pulse quickening with every new alert.The numbers didn’t lie; Nathan Park’s short video had exploded, racking up thousands of likes, shares, and comments in just a few days. It was everywhere. Food bloggers, influencers, even critics had latched onto it, praising the restaurant’s revival and raving about the dishes.Emily sucked in a breath, pushing through the swin
Maya's POVI finished the last bite of my dessert, a delicate fruit tart with a buttery crust and just the right amount of sweetness. It had been a perfect evening, just like the ones I had always envisioned for myself—peaceful, luxurious, and completely under my control. No unexpected chaos, no unwanted guests, no one to question me or undermine my authority. This was my home, my life, and I was finally at the center of it all.I picked up my phone again, absentmindedly scrolling through my messages as I sipped on my herbal tea. A new text from my mother, Lyla, caught my attention.Have you considered keeping things simple for the wedding? A smaller venue, something more intimate? No need for extravagance, sweetheart. These things are about the union, not the spectacle.I nearly scoffed aloud. Not the spectacle? What was even the point of a wedding if not to be a spectacle? This was my grand moment, my crowning achievement, the culmination of everything I had worked toward. I had spe
Maya's POVMy life was finally perfect.Louis was always busy with work, but that was exactly what I wanted. He was dedicated to the family business, leaving me to enjoy the luxury of our new home, a spacious, pristine sanctuary untouched by chaos. No more bizarre herbs strewn across counters, no more foreign guests parading through the house at all hours, and, most importantly, no more Lucy. I had won.The house was everything I had dreamed of, the kind of place women envied and whispered about over brunch. A classic American two-story home, wrapped in elegant ivory siding, with dark shutters that framed tall, stately windows. The front yard was a masterpiece—symmetrically trimmed hedges, a smooth stone pathway leading up to a grand mahogany door, and a black wrought-iron gate enclosing it all in a picture-perfect vision of stability. No overgrown vines creeping over walls, no bizarre statues cluttering the yard. It was polished, refined, and entirely mine.The backyard was just as f
Louis's POVMaya let out a sharp, humorless laugh, eyes widening as she stared at my mother in utter disbelief. “Thanking you?” she spat. “For what? For making me live in this?” She gestured wildly around the room, her hands trembling. “For making my house smell like rotting plants? For forcing me to drink God-knows-what every single day? For making me feel like I am losing my sanity?”Lucy sighed, rolling her eyes slightly, as if Maya were nothing more than a dramatic child throwing a tantrum. “You’re exaggerating,” she said with that same infuriating calmness. “The house isn’t that messy. You young people are just too accustomed to sterile, lifeless spaces. A home should have character. It should be full of life, full of culture. You act as if a few books out of place and a few herbs drying in the air is a disaster.”“A few herbs?” Maya shrieked. “There are piles of them, everywhere! It looks like a witch’s lair! And the books? They’re not even ours! Where do you even get them?” She
Louis's POVThe moment my phone rang and I saw Maya’s name flash on the screen, I knew something was wrong. I had been getting ready to leave work, shrugging on my jacket, when I answered. The second I picked up, her voice hit me like a storm, raw, frantic, and nearly breaking apart with rage and frustration."Louis, I can't do this anymore!" she cried, her voice shaking. "I swear to God, I am losing my mind in this house! Your mother is unbearable! She’s always here, always interfering, always treating me like I’m some child who can’t take care of myself! And those—those disgusting concoctions she keeps forcing on me, I can’t take it, Louis, I won’t take it! Do you have any idea what I walked into today? Do you? The house is a disaster! It looks like some kind of apothecary exploded, and the kitchen—Louis, I went into the kitchen, and there were dead bugs in the food. Dead. Bugs!"I gripped my phone tighter, momentarily stunned into silence. My mind should have been focused on Maya,
Maya's POVI couldn’t take it anymore. My hands were trembling as I clutched my phone, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The sheer disgust of what I had just seen, the chaos of this house, the stench that clung to every surface, it was all too much. I swiped at the tears on my cheeks, pressing the call button with shaking fingers. The phone barely rang before Louis picked up."Maya?" His voice was steady, indifferent, as if he hadn’t just left me to drown in this nightmare of a house.I felt my composure shatter the moment I heard his voice. "Louis, I can't do this anymore," I cried, my words tumbling out in a desperate, breathless rush. "I swear to God, I am losing my mind in this house! Your mother—she is unbearable! She is always here, always interfering, always shoving her ridiculous remedies down my throat, and I have had enough!"There was silence on the other end, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. "She keeps making these disgusting concoctions and insists I drink them.