Danielle's Point of ViewThe walls of the Hills estate loomed higher tonight, dressed in silence. The wind whispered against the glass panes like it carried secrets meant only for me. I stood by the tall windows in the drawing room, barefoot, the silk of my robe brushing against my skin with every slow breath.Michael hadn’t come home.That truth curled in the pit of my stomach like smoke, heavy and unshakable. He never mentioned where he was going. No message. No call. Only silence.I hated that it bothered me.The fire crackled behind me, casting long shadows that danced across the marble floor. My reflection in the window was ghostly, half-formed—a reminder that somewhere between vengeance and survival, I had become someone else. Someone colder. Someone lonelier.Footsteps echoed behind me.Not Michael’s.Lucien.He moved with his usual stillness, always watching before he spoke. He stopped at the threshold of the room, not daring to step in fully."He's still not back," he said."
Danielle's Point of ViewThe evening light bled through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the study. The silence was thick, filled with the weight of everything left unsaid. I stood near the bookshelf, fingers brushing against the spines of leather-bound volumes I hadn't dared to touch since I arrived. My reflection in the glass stared back at me, hollow-eyed and regal, cloaked in the armor Michael had taught me to wear.He entered without a word. His footsteps were slower than usual, deliberate. I didn’t turn. Not yet."You canceled the board meeting," I said, watching the window."They didn’t need me there today."I turned slowly, finding his eyes already on mine. There was something different about the way he looked at me now—like he was seeing a version of me he hadn't planned for."You left without saying anything this morning.""I needed to think."His jaw tensed, the lines of his face sharp under the fading light. "And did you? Think?""Too much."He moved closer,
Michael's Point of ViewThe rain started before I could find her.It came down in sheets, loud and wild against the hood of the car, the kind of storm that made the city blur at the edges. I didn't care. My knuckles tightened around the wheel, the leather biting into my palms, my chest wound tight with something I hadn’t felt in years—dread. Real dread. Not the kind you can measure in losses or risk margins. The kind that comes when someone gets too close, and you can't protect them.Danielle had left the estate in silence. No note. No message. Just the echo of her perfume lingering in the hallway. I should’ve known something had shifted the moment she looked me in the eye this morning and didn’t flinch. Something had broken free in her, and I let it happen because I wanted her strong.But this—this silence was different.The wipers couldn’t keep up with the rain. I could barely see the road, but I wasn’t heading anywhere random. I knew her patterns, her ghosts. And when you know a pe
Danielle's Point of ViewThe rain had not stopped for hours. It bled against the windows in thick sheets, streaking down the glass like the sky itself was grieving. I stood by the tall window of Michael's study, my arms folded tightly, pulse ticking in my throat. The storm outside couldn’t rival the one inside me.Behind me, I heard the soft click of the door opening. His footsteps were slow, deliberate. I didn’t turn."It was never supposed to go this far," Michael said. His voice carried the weight of something unspoken—regret, maybe. Or resignation.I kept my gaze on the rain. "But it did. And now we're standing in the ashes."He moved closer, but not enough to touch me. Just near enough that I could feel the warmth of his presence creep up my spine."You knew what this was from the beginning," he said, voice low.I turned, finally, and met his eyes. There was no hatred in mine. Only exhaustion. "Did I? Or did you make me believe I could stay in control? That I wouldn’t fall into t
Danielle's Point of ViewThe silence stretched between us, thick and unspoken, the kind that settles after truths are revealed but not yet accepted. I stood at the edge of the terrace, the wind pulling at my dress like it, too, wanted me to leave. The city below shimmered, indifferent to my unraveling.Behind me, I could feel Michael's presence before he spoke. He hadn’t moved since I’d walked away from him. His restraint was unsettling, like a lion choosing not to pounce."You're not going to say anything?" I asked, my voice low, carrying a tremble I couldn't hide."What would you like me to say?" he replied, and even in its softness, his voice scraped against me.I turned slowly. The glow from inside the house cast shadows across his face, sculpting the hardness of his jaw, the fatigue around his eyes."That it wasn’t real. That you didn’t mean it. That it was just strategy again."He exhaled through his nose, a slow drag of breath. "If I said that, would it make it easier for you t
Nella's POV:I stepped out of the room in a blue sundress, my blonde hair tied up in a messy bun. As I approached the stairs, one thought consumed me: Oliver Quinn, my husband, who had left for the parking lot a while ago.He was on his way to work, and I decided to see him off, even though I knew he wouldn’t appreciate it. No matter how much effort I put in, he always glared at me with disdain."But I won’t give up. Maybe this time, seeing him off will earn me a smile," I thought, smiling widely as I prepared to step onto the first stair. Just then, I caught sight of two hands reaching out from the corner of my eye, prompting me to turn away.“Arghhh!” Caitlyn screamed as she lost her footing. I instinctively reached out, trying to grab her shoulders, but it was too late—she tumbled down the stairs.‘Was she trying to push me?’ I wondered, watching her roll until she hit the ground hard and, blood began to flow out heavily from the side of her head.“Miss Cait!” a maid called, rushin
Nella's POV:Suddenly, Oliver came into view. "Oliver, how is Caitlyn?" I stuttered.His furious gaze locked onto me as he approached. "You ungrateful bitch!” He yelled, raising his hands to hit me. I closed my eyes anticipating the slap but it never came, I slowly pried my eyes open to see that Agent Cooper had held Oliver back from hitting me.Tears welled up in my eyes, how could Oliver think of hitting me? “Control yourself Mr. Quinn. We will handle everything now that we are here.” Agent Cooper said, as she pulled out a handcuff from his pants pocket and advanced towards me.“You are under arrest for attempting to murder Miss. Caitlyn Pearce.” Agent Cooper began. ‘Attempt murder? Under arrest?’ My mind suddenly began to race. “Oliver, are you aware of this?” I asked turning to face him, there was absolutely no way he would allow these men take me in. This was obviously one of Caitlyn's schemes. “All your questions will be answered in court, Mrs. Quinn.” Agent Cooper said coldl
Nella's POV:The doors were suddenly pushed open and I shut my eyes instinctively. I could hear approaching footsteps, but I continued to feign sleep. “She is still asleep.” I heard a male voice say.“What could be wrong with her?” A familiar female voice asked. “She's pregnant.” The man replied, my eyes flung open when I heard his words.‘How? When?’It finally dawned on me, the night Caitlyn's divorce was announced in the news and she had contacted Oliver for emotional support. He came back home extremely happy and drunk, and that night we had sex for the very first time. The next morning when he woke up he hated me more, he claimed that I took advantage of his drunken state to have my way with him.How did that one night together result in pregnancy?‘Oliver needs to know about this, he will come for me the moment he finds out that I am pregnant with his child.’ I thought.“She is awake.” I heard a male voice announce. Tilting my head to the side, I saw a middle aged man, dresse
Danielle's Point of ViewThe silence stretched between us, thick and unspoken, the kind that settles after truths are revealed but not yet accepted. I stood at the edge of the terrace, the wind pulling at my dress like it, too, wanted me to leave. The city below shimmered, indifferent to my unraveling.Behind me, I could feel Michael's presence before he spoke. He hadn’t moved since I’d walked away from him. His restraint was unsettling, like a lion choosing not to pounce."You're not going to say anything?" I asked, my voice low, carrying a tremble I couldn't hide."What would you like me to say?" he replied, and even in its softness, his voice scraped against me.I turned slowly. The glow from inside the house cast shadows across his face, sculpting the hardness of his jaw, the fatigue around his eyes."That it wasn’t real. That you didn’t mean it. That it was just strategy again."He exhaled through his nose, a slow drag of breath. "If I said that, would it make it easier for you t
Danielle's Point of ViewThe rain had not stopped for hours. It bled against the windows in thick sheets, streaking down the glass like the sky itself was grieving. I stood by the tall window of Michael's study, my arms folded tightly, pulse ticking in my throat. The storm outside couldn’t rival the one inside me.Behind me, I heard the soft click of the door opening. His footsteps were slow, deliberate. I didn’t turn."It was never supposed to go this far," Michael said. His voice carried the weight of something unspoken—regret, maybe. Or resignation.I kept my gaze on the rain. "But it did. And now we're standing in the ashes."He moved closer, but not enough to touch me. Just near enough that I could feel the warmth of his presence creep up my spine."You knew what this was from the beginning," he said, voice low.I turned, finally, and met his eyes. There was no hatred in mine. Only exhaustion. "Did I? Or did you make me believe I could stay in control? That I wouldn’t fall into t
Michael's Point of ViewThe rain started before I could find her.It came down in sheets, loud and wild against the hood of the car, the kind of storm that made the city blur at the edges. I didn't care. My knuckles tightened around the wheel, the leather biting into my palms, my chest wound tight with something I hadn’t felt in years—dread. Real dread. Not the kind you can measure in losses or risk margins. The kind that comes when someone gets too close, and you can't protect them.Danielle had left the estate in silence. No note. No message. Just the echo of her perfume lingering in the hallway. I should’ve known something had shifted the moment she looked me in the eye this morning and didn’t flinch. Something had broken free in her, and I let it happen because I wanted her strong.But this—this silence was different.The wipers couldn’t keep up with the rain. I could barely see the road, but I wasn’t heading anywhere random. I knew her patterns, her ghosts. And when you know a pe
Danielle's Point of ViewThe evening light bled through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the study. The silence was thick, filled with the weight of everything left unsaid. I stood near the bookshelf, fingers brushing against the spines of leather-bound volumes I hadn't dared to touch since I arrived. My reflection in the glass stared back at me, hollow-eyed and regal, cloaked in the armor Michael had taught me to wear.He entered without a word. His footsteps were slower than usual, deliberate. I didn’t turn. Not yet."You canceled the board meeting," I said, watching the window."They didn’t need me there today."I turned slowly, finding his eyes already on mine. There was something different about the way he looked at me now—like he was seeing a version of me he hadn't planned for."You left without saying anything this morning.""I needed to think."His jaw tensed, the lines of his face sharp under the fading light. "And did you? Think?""Too much."He moved closer,
Danielle's Point of ViewThe walls of the Hills estate loomed higher tonight, dressed in silence. The wind whispered against the glass panes like it carried secrets meant only for me. I stood by the tall windows in the drawing room, barefoot, the silk of my robe brushing against my skin with every slow breath.Michael hadn’t come home.That truth curled in the pit of my stomach like smoke, heavy and unshakable. He never mentioned where he was going. No message. No call. Only silence.I hated that it bothered me.The fire crackled behind me, casting long shadows that danced across the marble floor. My reflection in the window was ghostly, half-formed—a reminder that somewhere between vengeance and survival, I had become someone else. Someone colder. Someone lonelier.Footsteps echoed behind me.Not Michael’s.Lucien.He moved with his usual stillness, always watching before he spoke. He stopped at the threshold of the room, not daring to step in fully."He's still not back," he said."
Michael’s Point of ViewNight deepened the shadows in the study. The only light came from the dying embers in the hearth and the faint glow of city lights through the tall windows. I sat behind my desk, shoulders slumped, papers strewn before me like casualties of a war I hadn’t fully won.Danielle had patched my wound. Blood in her fingers had unsettled me more than the blade that caused it. I’d worn scars like armor; she bore them like proof of survival. And now every mark on my skin carried the weight of her care.Across the room, her silhouette lingered in the doorway. She leaned against the frame, arms hugging herself. Her eyes, dark in the firelight, tracked my every move.I closed the ledger in front of me, its pages empty of solutions. Nothing here mattered if she remained distant.“Can we talk?” I said.She didn’t move.“About tonight.” My voice echoed in the stillness.She pulled free, stepping closer. The air between us hummed with words unspoken.“Why didn’t you let me hel
Michael's point of viewThe rain came in thin sheets, slicking the windows and whispering against the glass like a confession no one wanted to make. My fingers curled tighter around the edge of the desk, knuckles paling beneath the tension. Danielle hadn’t returned my last call. Or the one before that. Silence from her wasn't unfamiliar, but it never came without a price.The office light cast sharp angles across the dark wood of the room. Everything around me was too clean, too still. The kind of quiet that made you realize something had shifted—subtly, but irrevocably.A knock disrupted the hush. It was soft, hesitant."Come in," I said, voice even, betraying nothing.Eliza stepped in, her posture too straight, her face too controlled. That alone made my chest tighten. Eliza never walked on eggshells unless there was something sharp beneath her feet."She went to the old estate," she said, pausing just long enough for her words to sting. "Alone."I didn’t answer. I pushed the chair
Danielle's Point of ViewThe rain came without warning, crashing against the windows like a thousand tiny drums, drowning the silence in Michael's study. I stood near the fireplace, its warmth brushing my skin, though it did nothing to ease the cold growing beneath it. The flames danced but gave no comfort.Michael had been gone for hours. He left with one promise clinging to his back like a shadow: tonight, it ends.I didn’t ask how. I didn’t need to. The look in his eyes had been enough.The storm outside matched the one twisting inside me. I paced, palms damp, heartbeat caught between anticipation and dread. My mind replayed everything that led us here. Every betrayal. Every deal. Every kiss that lingered too long. Every moment I convinced myself I didn’t care.A sharp knock split the air.I turned.The door creaked open.Michael stood there, soaked to the bone, hair clinging to his forehead, blood trickling from his lip.He didn’t speak at first. Just stepped in slowly, eyes locki
Danielle’s Point of ViewThe wind howled outside the mansion as if echoing the storm inside me. I stood at the edge of the hallway, the lights dim, casting long shadows along the marble floors. Michael hadn’t returned since the meeting. Hours had passed, and each second dug its claws deeper into my chest. Something was wrong. I felt it not in my mind, but in the quiet protest of my bones, in the chill that refused to leave my skin.The staff moved like ghosts around me, their eyes dropping whenever I passed. They knew something, or maybe they sensed it too. The air felt heavy, like it was holding its breath with me.My phone buzzed on the console table beside the stairs. I didn’t rush. I couldn’t. My body was too tightly wound, my heart too loud in my ears. I picked it up slowly, the screen casting a pale glow against my face. One message. One name.Leo."It’s done. The board’s vote was unanimous. He’s out."I didn’t breathe. I stared at the words until they blurred. My thumb hovered