Claire’s POVThe antenatal class was a space I’d dreaded since the beginning, but today, the air seemed heavier, thicker with judgmental stares and whispers that buzzed like gnats around my ears.I adjusted my maternity dress as I stepped into the room, my heart thudding louder than my footsteps. A cluster of women huddled in one corner, their conversations halting as their gazes flicked toward me.“Look who decided to show up,” a voice rang out, unmistakable in its biting tone.I turned to see Patricia, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the armrest of her chair. She had that effortless grace some people never lose, even when their insides are rotten. Once a famous model, she was now a cautionary tale of indulgence turned bitter. Pregnancy hadn’t been kind to her body, and she blamed everyone but herself for the change.Patricia had taken a liking to making me her personal target. Whether it was because I reminded her of her past or because she thought I was an easy victim,
Claire’s POVThe air felt stifling as I tried to process what had just happened. Everyone in the room had gone quiet the moment he entered, and for good reason. Larry—or whatever he was calling himself these days—was breathtaking. Broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, and eyes that once had the power to undo me.But my head was a cacophony of emotions, drowning out the whispers of awe from the other women. This man… This man had put me through hell. The same man who, years ago, promised me the world only to vanish without a trace. The same man who called me a slut when I told him I was pregnant.I clenched my fists, willing my racing heart to calm.No, it can’t be him, I thought, watching as he moved across the room with a confidence that seemed to command attention. He looked at me for the briefest moment, his eyes flickering with something I couldn’t place before looking away like I was just another face in the crowd.Maybe he wasn’t Larry. Maybe he was just a doppelgänger—a cruel reminde
Vincent's POVI woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling, the beams of sunlight streaming through the curtains doing little to quell the disorientation flooding my senses. For a brief moment, panic surged through me. Where was I?Then, the memory trickled back—dinner at Mom’s.She’d called me out of the blue yesterday, insisting I come over for a home-cooked meal. The urgency in her voice had been surprising, and though our relationship was far from strained, it was unusual for her to be so adamant. I’d gone anyway, chalking it up to her just missing me.What I hadn’t expected was to wake up here, on a bed that reeked of childhood nostalgia, with no recollection of how I’d fallen asleep.I sat up slowly, rubbing the back of my neck as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My clothes were still on, save for my shoes, which had been neatly placed by the door.Weird.Pushing myself off the bed, I padded out of the room, the scent of bacon wafting through the hallway.Mom was in the kitchen,
Vincent’s POV"You’re lying," I said flatly, arms crossed as I stared Mirabel down.She sniffled, her eyes darting to my mother, who sat beside her with a hand on her shoulder like she was some fragile, innocent lamb."Vincent, enough," Mom snapped. "This isn’t some courtroom.""Well, it sure feels like one," I shot back. "And if we’re going to play judge and jury, let’s talk about how I’m suddenly the father of a child I don’t remember signing up for."Mirabel’s lower lip quivered as she wiped at her tears with trembling fingers. "I’m not lying, Vincent," she said softly. "I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s the truth.""Hard to believe?" I scoffed. "Mirabel, you’ve made a career out of bending the truth. You cheated your way through college, slept with professors, and probably half the faculty at this point. And now I’m supposed to take your word that I’m the father?"Mom’s gasp was sharp and theatrical. "Vincent Alexander Everglow, how dare you speak to her like that?!""How dare
Vincent’s POVMy head was spinning as I paced the living room. Every passing second felt like an eternity, the tension in the air as thick as the lies swirling around me.Claire’s voicemail greeted me for the third time in a row, her voice calm and sweet, making my chest ache. Claire wasn’t the type to ignore calls, and that alone was enough to set off every alarm in my head.What if something was wrong?I turned on my data, hoping for a miracle—a text, a missed message—something to give me a clue. Instead, what greeted me was a torrent of notifications.BREAKING: Vincent Everglow and Fiancée Expecting First Child!Wedding Bells for Business Tycoon Vincent Everglow and Childhood Sweetheart!Exclusive: Mirabel Jones Opens Up About Love, Family, and Their Future Together.“What the actual…” I stared at my phone, scrolling through article after article, each one worse than the last. My so-called engagement was plastered across every major media outlet, complete with staged photos of Mira
Claire’s POVLarry’s eyes bored into mine, a strange mix of anger and entitlement simmering just beneath the surface. His silence was suffocating, pressing on me as if daring me to break first.I swallowed hard, the disgust clawing its way up my throat. My fingers trembled as I pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge. The parking lot seemed to shrink around me, the walls of cars becoming a cage, and suddenly, the air felt too thick to breathe.“Larry,” I said, my voice shaky but firm. “Move.”He didn’t respond. His jaw ticked, his arms tightening slightly.“Larry!” I tried again, more forcefully this time. But his body was immovable, his presence oppressive.Then my phone rang.Relief washed over me, the sound a lifeline pulling me out of the swirling tension. I reached for it, fumbling in the pocket of my hoodie, but before I could grab it, Larry’s hand shot out, snatching the phone and tossing it across the parking lot. The clatter echoed, my heart sinking with it.“What are you do
Claire's POVThe sound of fists colliding filled the air, each blow reverberating like a thunderclap in the stillness of the parking lot. Nothing I did seemed to stop them.“Stop it!” I yelled again, my voice breaking under the weight of my desperation. “Please, just stop!”Neither man listened. Larry was losing ground fast, his movements sluggish and clumsy, while Vincent’s strikes landed with brutal precision. Larry stumbled, blood dripping from his split lip onto the asphalt.I turned to the security guard stationed near the entrance, my voice frantic. “Do something! Call the police!”The old man hesitated, his gaze darting between the fight and me. “Miss,” he said, his voice low, “I can’t. If I step in and get on the wrong side of the director, I’ll lose my job. And besides…” He trailed off, his lips pressing into a thin line.“Besides what?” I snapped, my patience wearing thin.His eyes flickered back to the brawl. “That one,” he gestured to Larry, “he’s had this coming for a lon
Claire's POVThe road stretched endlessly before me, the headlights of passing cars flashing in fleeting bursts. The rhythmic hum of tires on asphalt, usually a soothing backdrop, grated on my fraying nerves. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the leather biting into my palms as I fought the nausea building in my stomach. My knuckles, pale and strained, were a testament to my stubbornness—I had been holding it in for too long.But I couldn’t anymore.I swerved onto the shoulder and threw the car into park. The engine’s low rumble seemed to mock me as I stumbled out, barely making it to the side of the road before doubling over. My body convulsed violently, the nausea clawing its way out of me in harsh, unrelenting waves. I clung to my knees, trembling as I retched until there was nothing left.When it finally subsided, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and reached into my bag for the bottle of water I always kept. My hands shook as I unscrewed the cap, splashing some
Larry Thorne’s POVIt was quiet now. The kind of quiet that used to drive me insane when I was younger, before I knew how to appreciate it. The twins had finally fallen asleep after I’d read them their bedtime stories, the girl clutching her stuffed rabbit and the boy sprawled out like he owned the world.Fatherhood. Who would have thought it?Four months ago, I couldn’t have imagined this life. Me, Larry Thorne, the reckless playboy who lived for booze, drugs, and women, now playing the role of a family man.Well, mostly.I leaned against the doorframe of the twins’ room, watching their tiny chests rise and fall with each breath. It was surreal, almost poetic, how much they had changed me. I didn’t touch alcohol anymore, and the mere thought of drugs made me sick. I wanted to be better—for them. They deserved that.And for all her quirks, Elise had stepped up too. She loved those kids like they were her own, doting on them in ways I never expected. There were moments when I caught her
Chapter 34Mirabel Vanroe’s POVThese past four months have definitely been the longest four years of my life, it has taken me through different phases, made me understand myself more and most especially, understand the surrounding situation.The time within those months ave made me understand that forgiveness be damned, new beginnings be damned. Those who said that opportunities come but once weren't lying. They definitely had won my shoes before coming up with those words of wisdom, because I had that opportunity to become a star after I graduated from college, and it was the only once of my life, because now, I was nothing but a crazy woman forced to wear a white uniform because the alternative would have been orange overalls in a damned cell with notorious roommates, but right now, I was stuck with crazy. "I heard she used to be a top star.""Top star my foot, if she was a top star, then I was a top planet," I glared at the two psychopaths and watched them scamper away, while I h
Claire’s POVFour months had passed since my world turned upside down, and now I stood at the precipice of a new beginning. The joy of motherhood swelled within me, even as I lay drenched in sweat, gripping the sides of the hospital bed with all my might. The air in the delivery room felt thick, buzzing with nervous energy and the weight of what was about to happen."Push, Claire! You’re almost there!" The doctor’s voice cut through the haze of pain, grounding me in the moment.A sharp contraction tore through me, and for a brief moment, I thought I might lose my mind. Every nerve in my body screamed in protest, but then I felt Emily’s firm hand clasping mine."You’ve got this! You’re the strongest woman I know." Her voice, steady and filled with conviction, was the anchor I desperately needed.On the other side of me was Vince
Mirabel's POV The cold steel of the prison bars bit into my palms as I leaned against them, the chill seeping into my bones. My breath came out in ragged gasps, each one a struggle to pull from the suffocating air of my cell. The coarse fabric of my orange jumpsuit scratched at my skin, a constant reminder of how far I had fallen—from the glamour of studio lights and red carpets to this dim, unforgiving cage. Tears streamed
Larry's POVI never saw it coming—the sharp crack of bone that echoed through the room, a sound so foreign yet unmistakably mine. Pain flared up my leg, an incandescent burst of white-hot agony that blotted out thought and breath. I crumpled to the cold, hard ground, gasping, clutching at the shattered limb as if sheer will could piece it back together.“Damn it, Larry,” Vincent’s voice cut through the haze, cold and commanding. “You really should watch your step.”His words were laced with fury and satisfaction, a combination that made my stomach churn as much as the pain in my leg did. I bit down a groan, my breaths coming shallow and fast. Sweat pooled on my brow, and the room spun like a cruel carnival ride.“You didn’t have to do this,” I rasped, the words barely escaping through clenched teeth. My voice trembled, lacking conviction even as I spoke.Vincent crouched beside me, his face a mask of barely restrained rage. “Didn’t have to?” he echoed, his voice low and dangerous. “You
Vincent’s POVThe moment the hacker delivered the final batch of files, I knew Mirabel’s reign of terror was over. Nine hours was all it took for her carefully constructed image to shatter. Years of deceit, manipulation, and cruelty now sat neatly categorized in front of me—subtle, strong, explosive.I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen as the weight of the evidence settled over me. Bank transfers tied to bribery. Screenshots of threats she’d sent to assistants she bullied into silence. Even a recorded confession from one of her ex-managers, who detailed the torment she’d put him through before driving him to a breakdown. And then there were the videos.They were the kind of content no PR team could spin, the kind that would obliterate every shred of credibility she had left. Explicit. Damning. Ugly.I should have felt disgusted—or maybe even pity—but all I felt was cold, unrelenting anger.“Vincent?” Claire’s voice pulled me back. She was sitting on the couch, her legs cu
Claire’s POVExhaustion weighed heavily on me, my body begging for rest, but my mind refused to grant it. My eyelids drooped as I sat on the edge of the bed, my hand resting protectively over my belly. Vincent was pacing in front of me, his phone in one hand, a glass of water in the other. He had been trying to convince me to sleep for over an hour, but how could I close my eyes with so much at stake?“They said ten hours,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Ten hours, Vincent. That’s a lifetime right now.”“You’ll make yourself sick,” he countered, kneeling before me. He placed the glass in my hand and cupped my cheek with his other. His gaze was soft, yet determined. “Claire, please. Trust me. We’re almost there.”I wanted to believe him, but the knot in my stomach wouldn’t unravel. “I can’t. Not until this is over. Not until Mirabel’s lies are exposed, and she can’t hurt us anymore.” My voice cracked, and I hated how vulnerable I sounded.Vincent’s thumb brushed against my cheek, wiping
Mirabel’s POVI paced the length of the room, my stilettos clicking sharply against the marble floor, their sound slicing through the tense silence. Every deliberate step mirrored the whirlwind in my mind. That insipid little video Claire had posted was still trending. A pregnant woman pleading for peace? Sympathy for her unborn child? It was a masterstroke of manipulation.And it was working.The pity I’d spent months crafting had evaporated overnight. My nails dug into my palms as I replayed her words in my head, each line dripping with saccharine innocence. If I announced my pregnancy now, it would look like a desperate bid for attention. Worse, it would backfire spectacularly. No one would side with me over a vulnerable, heavily pregnant woman.The public would eat me alive.But I wasn’t about to roll over and surrender. I’d played the victim long enough. Now, it was time to become the devil.I reached for my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found the one I needed. My
Claire's POVThe moment Emily and Adrian left, the tension in the air felt almost suffocating. I was still processing the mess from earlier when something unexpected happened. It started with a faint sound—like the rustling of dozens of people gathering—and then it grew louder. By the time I made it to the window, I could see the crowd forming outside the gates, a sea of reporters, paparazzi, and random strangers pushing forward, trying to get in.I froze. Panic surged through me. I wasn’t sure what to do.Vincent, however, was on it in an instant. His phone rang with the speed of someone who had already anticipated this move. He snapped a few words into it, and within minutes, a team of security arrived. The scene outside was chaos, but it didn’t take long for the reporters to be pushed out of the way.Vincent had everything under control. And somehow, that made the whole situation feel even worse. The idea that I was trapped here—while he was orchestrating everything—only added to t