Michell povThe door clicked shut behind her. I didn’t look up. Didn’t acknowledge the way she hesitated for half a second before leaving. Good. That should’ve been the end of it. I returned my attention to the contract in front of me, scanning the figures and clauses with practiced precision. It was a multi-million-dollar deal, one that required every ounce of my focus. But for the first time in years, I found myself rereading the same paragraph. My mind was elsewhere. On her. On the way her voice trembled, not with fear, but with anger. On the way her hands clenched at her sides, like she was holding back more than just frustration. She had come expecting rejection. And yet, she had still asked. I exhaled sharply, setting the contract down. I shouldn’t care. Ms. Taylor Taylor’s life—her past—was not my concern. She was here to do one thing: take care of Amelia and follow my rules. That was the agreement. She has proof.That changed things. The scandal Har
Amelia povThe door clicked softly behind me, but my mind was already miles away, replaying Mr Garcia’s words over and over in my head.“You have to survive the week without getting another strike.”It was absurd. Impossible, even. How could he expect me to balance all the chaos surrounding Harold’s lawsuit, my own mounting stress, and Amelia’s care without slipping up? The demands he’d already placed on me felt like enough to break anyone, and now he was adding one more, as if I could simply wave a magic wand and make everything work.I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to slam something—anything—against the walls. I didn’t have time for this. I didn’t have the luxury of frustration.Still, his offer lingered, like a sickly-sweet promise that left a bitter aftertaste. He would help me with Harold, but only if I could somehow manage to stay perfect. No mistakes, no signs of weakness. Just… survive.I could feel his eyes on me again, the way he had looked at me when I finally agre
Michell povI watched her.Every morning, without fail, Audrey followed the schedule. She was up before the sun, precise, unwavering. At first, I thought it would be temporary. A couple of days of forced discipline, maybe, before she’d crack. But I started to think I had misjudged her. Four days. That’s how long it had been. Four days of watching her wake up early, follow every rule, and keep Amelia on track. No excuses. No deviation. Not even a hint of frustration. I couldn’t decide if I was impressed or irritated. The first day, I thought she was just putting on a show. But by the second day, I noticed the small details—how she made sure Amelia’s breakfast was exactly the way I liked it, down to the lack of sugar in the cereal. How she followed through with the walk, even when it was cold enough to make your bones ache. By the third day, it became impossible to ignore. She was serious. Serious enough to make me start questioning my own rules. It was a strange thing, wa
Audrey povI sat in my room, staring at my phone, waiting for Greg to call back. The moment Mr. Garcia told me his lawyers were pulling strings, everything had started moving faster than I expected. Depositions, restraining orders, counter-motions—I could barely keep up with the legal jargon, let alone process the fact that Mr. Garcia was handling things like it was just another business deal. I should have been relieved. I was relieved. But it also terrified me. This was no longer just my fight. Mr. Garcia had made it clear that he was involved, which meant I couldn’t afford to mess up. Not with Amelia’s routine, not with my testimony, not with anything. If I failed, I wouldn’t just be disappointing myself—I’d be proving him right. That I wasn’t capable. That I wasn’t strong enough to handle this. My phone buzzed. Greg.I exhaled sharply before answering. “Hey.” “I just got off the phone with Mr. Garcia’s legal team,” Greg said, his voice carrying the exhaustion I felt. “T
Michell povI sat in my office, fingers steepled under my chin as the last of my legal team filed out. The meeting had gone exactly as expected—efficient, calculated, and airtight. Ms. Taylor had sat across from me, her shoulders squared, her hands clenched in her lap. She thought she was hiding it well, but I saw her fidgeting. The way her breathing changed when Harold’s name was mentioned. The way she kept swallowing, like she was trying to keep everything inside. She wanted to fight. I had seen that determination before, but this time, it wasn’t just about survival. She was fighting for something bigger. For herself. I leaned back in my chair, my gaze drifting toward the darkened windows. Months ago, I had expected her to fail. I had expected her to make a mistake, to crumble under the pressure. To prove that she was like every other woman who had tried to weasel her way into my life through my daughter. But she hadn’t. She followed the rules. Every single one. She
Amelia povI stood in the courtyard outside the courthouse, the chill of the morning air biting at my skin as I clutched my coat tighter around my frame. The hustle and bustle of the city felt distant here, muffled by the towering stone walls surrounding the courthouse. In contrast to the chaotic energy inside, the courtyard was quiet—peaceful even—but I couldn’t shake the tightness in my chest.Harold was inside. I had seen him, as soon as I stepped through the doors, looking every bit the part of the man who thought he had all the power. His usual smug expression was plastered across his face, and beside him, his new mistress—Gina—looked like she was born for this world of drama and spectacle. She was clutching his arm with an air of possessiveness, like she was staking her claim in front of the world. And his mother… the woman who had always stood behind him, no matter what wrong he did, sat beside Gina, looking at me with disdain. She had always made it clear that she did
Audrey povThe air in the courtroom felt like it had thickened, the silence hanging heavy as the next part of the trial loomed. Harold’s plan to use me as the villain—the woman who had betrayed him—had begun to unravel in front of everyone, and now, Mr. Garcia’s legal team was ready to hit him where it hurt the most. My heart was pounding, and I could barely focus on the back-and-forth between the lawyers. Every so often, my eyes would flicker to Mr. Garcia, who stood across the room, exuding an air of quiet confidence as his team took over. Harold’s lawyers were still trying to salvage the story they had been telling—this narrative of my supposed infidelity. They had painted me as a woman who had been chasing after Mr. Garcia, trying to tear apart my family for a man who was far out of my reach. It was all lies, and they knew it. But now, they were about to see the truth. Mr. Garcia’s lawyer stepped up to the stand, folder in hand, eyes cold as he made his way toward the judg
Audrey povThe courtroom was filled with an eerie quiet as the judge re-entered the room. The gavel struck again, this time signaling the end of the long wait. Everyone slowly took their seats, the tension in the air almost suffocating.The judge looked over at us all, her eyes sharp and focused. She was about to deliver her verdict.“After reviewing all the evidence presented and considering the circumstances surrounding this case, I have come to a decision,” she began. Her voice rang out clearly, the authority in it making every word feel heavier than the last.I took a deep breath, bracing myself. My hands were cold, and despite everything I had endured, the nerves still lingered. It was hard to shake the feeling that something could go wrong at the last moment, but I couldn’t deny that this was my chance—my chance to finally break free from the control Harold had over me for so long.“Mr. Thomas,” the judge continued, turning her gaze to Harold, “it is clear from the evidence th
Audrey povA week has passed.Recovery was humiliating. The morning light streamed through the window, golden and warm, but the brightness only sharpened the ache in my leg. I shifted on the bed, trying to sit up straighter, but a dull, relentless pain pulsed deep in my bones, like a bruise that refused to fade. “Slowly, Miss Taylor,” the nurse said gently, her hands firm as she adjusted the pillows behind my back. “I’m fine,” I replied, but the tremor in my voice betrayed me. “You’re pushing too much,” the nurse chided, but her tone was soft. “The swelling has gone down, but you’re still healing. Give it time.” I hated that word—time. It felt like punishment. From across the room, Mr. Garcia stood with his arms crossed, his gaze sharp as it tracked every clumsy movement I made. He never interrupted the physical therapists, never spoke over the medical team, but he was always watching. “Do you have to stand there like a bouncer?” I snapped, biting down on the anger tha
MICHELL POVVictor hadn’t arrived yet. He was supposed to be here by now. I checked my watch, then the door, as if expecting him to suddenly appear. But there was nothing. No call. No message. No unwanted presence at my doorstep. Maybe he had changed his mind. I wished he would. Wished he would stay away from my estate, from my life, from Amelia’s life. But Victor never abandoned what he set out to do. And if he hadn’t come yet, it was only because he was taking his time. I exhaled, pushing away the thought. There were more immediate concerns. Like the woman lying in the hospital bed in front of me. Like Audrey Taylor and her relentless, infuriating stubbornness. “I can still train her,” she said. Her voice was quiet but resolute. I turned to face her, my brows furrowing. “You can’t even stand.” “I don’t need to.” She gestured weakly toward the tablet resting on the bedside table. “There are videos, I can also talk to her through the movements.” Her fingers
MICHELL POVAudrey wasn’t good at staying still. Even half-conscious, pain slowing her down, she still fought against it. I saw it in the way her fingers curled into the blanket, in the stubborn set of her jaw when she thought no one was looking. And now, as she tried—and failed—to shift into a better position, I watched her frustration tighten her features, her breath coming out in sharp, measured exhales. I knew this wouldn’t be easy. But watching her struggle, seeing the way she hated every second of her own helplessness, was more irritating than I expected. “Stop trying to move,” I muttered. Her head turned toward me, sluggish but deliberate. “I’m not.”I raised a brow. She sighed through her nose, gaze flickering toward the ceiling. “Fine. Maybe I was.”I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed. “You don’t learn, do you?”She closed her eyes briefly. “You sound like my mother.”That threw me off for half a second. Then she added, “That wasn’t a compliment.”A short
AUDREY POVPain. That was the first thing I felt, again that day after briefly waking up. Deep, heavy, like someone had poured molten lead into my bones. It clung to my leg, wrapped around my spine, spread into my ribs like fire licking up dry wood. I wanted to move, to shift even a little, but the second I tried, the pain sharpened, cutting through the fog in my head. My breath hitched. The effort alone made my body scream. The steady beep of a machine filled the silence. A sound I didn’t recognize at first. My mind felt sluggish, thick with something I couldn’t name. My eyelids fluttered, too heavy to lift, but I fought through it. I tried to swallow. My throat was raw, dry like sandpaper. I opened my mouth, but no words came out—just a weak rasp. Then, a shadow moved beside me. I blinked slowly, forcing my eyes to focus. The world was a blur, edges too bright, colors bleeding into each other. But as my vision cleared, I saw him. Mr. Garcia. He sat beside my bed, ar
MICHELL POVThe room was silent except for the rhythmic beeping of the monitors. I hadn’t moved from the chair beside her bed. I should have been working. Checking reports. Making calls. But I didn’t. Instead, I sat there, watching her breathe. Her face was pale—too pale. The stark white of the hospital sheets only made it worse. A thin tube supplied her with oxygen, and the IV in her arm fed her body the fluids she needed to recover. I didn’t like seeing her like this. Vulnerable. Weak. She had been fighting since the moment I met her—pushing, refusing to bend, standing her ground even when it was foolish. And yet, here she was. Unmoving. Silent. She should be awake by now. The doctors had assured me she was stable, that she just needed rest. But I didn’t trust assurances—not when I had watched her die on that table. Not when I had stood in that goddamn operating room, powerless, as the machines flatlined and the medical team scrambled to bring her back. I exhal
AUDREY POVThe cold seeps into my skin as they wheel me down the hallway, the thin hospital gown doing nothing to stop the chill. The lights above are too bright, glaring down like watchful eyes, making my vision blur at the edges. My body feels heavy, weighed down by something I can’t quite place—fear, exhaustion, maybe both.I hear footsteps beside me. Slow. Measured.Even without turning my head, I know it’s Michell.I tried to focus on him, to ground myself, but I couldn't.I open my mouth, wanting to say something, anything, but my tongue is too heavy, the anesthesia starting to drag me under.The last thing I see before the darkness takes me is Michell’s looking at me with those sexy weird eyes. MICHELL POVThe tension in my chest hadn’t eased. Not even a little. I stood by the operating room doors, watching as the nurses prepared Audrey. She looked… small. Fragile in a way I had never seen before. Her face was pale, eyes clouded with exhaustion and something else—something
MICHELL POVI closed the door behind me, inhaling slowly as I guided Amelia down the hall. The tension in my chest hadn’t eased. Not even a little. I had expected to be angry. Furious, even. Ms. Taylor had been reckless, ignoring the fact that her leg still wasn’t healed. She had put herself at risk, knowing full well she had surgery coming up. And yet— The moment I saw her stumble, the moment I saw pain flash across her face, all of that anger had burned away, replaced by something else. Something I didn’t want to name. Something I couldn’t name. “Dad?” Amelia’s voice was quiet, hesitant. I glanced down at her. “What?” She was staring up at me, her small fingers still wrapped around my hand. “Are you mad at Ms. Taylor?” I exhaled sharply. “She should’ve been more careful.” “That’s not what I asked.” I pressed my lips together. She was too observant for her own good. “Go eat something,” I said instead, leading her toward the dining area. She groaned. “I d
AUDREY POVPain. It came in waves, sharp and pulsing, radiating from my leg like a cruel reminder of my own recklessness. I should have known better. Should have stopped when I first felt the strain. But I hadn’t. Now, standing with Mr. Garcia’s hand still gripping mine, the pain wasn’t the only thing I felt. There was something else. Something heavier. Something I didn’t want to name. His face had been cold, sharp as a blade when he stormed into the ballroom. His voice—deep, commanding—had cut through the space like a whip. But beneath the anger, beneath the frustration, I had caught something else. Something like… worry. Why? Why had he looked at me like that? Why had he sounded like that? I tried to brush it off as simple annoyance—of course, he’d be mad. I was Amelia’s nanny, not her dance instructor. I was supposed to be recovering, not pushing my limits. I had no right to be reckless, especially under his roof. And yet… His anger had felt too raw. Too p
MICHELL POVI flipped through the contract in front of me, scanning the details with sharp precision. The numbers were solid. The projections were favorable. But there was something—one thing—that felt off. I tapped my fingers against my desk, my other hand holding the contract open. “Page seventeen,” I said flatly. Across from me, Ethan, my head of acquisitions, looked up from his own copy. “What about it?” I exhaled sharply, irritated. “The clause about equity distribution. It’s not aligned with our standard agreements.” Ethan blinked, flipping to the page. He skimmed it, then frowned. “Huh. I didn’t catch that.” Of course, he didn’t. I didn’t respond, just leaned back in my chair, tapping my pen against the desk. The moment stretched long and silent before Ethan finally sighed. “I’ll have them revise it,” he muttered. I nodded once. “Make it fast.” He stood, gathering his papers. “Anything else?” “Yes. The Merado shipment. Have we received confirmation on the