Okay... How far guys
The new office looked like a tornado had ripped through it, with papers stacked high, files overflowing, and not a single aide in sight to help. I sighed, massaging my temples as I glanced at the massive workload ahead of me. It was my first day as CEO, and the weight of duty felt both exciting and exhausting. But as my gaze fell on the finalised divorce papers, a rush of relief washed over me. At least that chapter in my life was now over. One load was relieved, but so many others remained.Camille, the properties and most importantly, Adrian. It was way past noon and almost time for the staff to clock out when I suddenly felt an overwhelming thirst.Unable to ignore my dry throat, I stood to get a glass of water, but a sharp pain surged through my abdomen, causing me to wince. I wanted to dismiss it, telling myself it was just stress as I always had a nervous stomach whenever I was feeling stressed, but with each step that I took towards the dispenser, the pain increased and I bega
Adrian’s POVI’ve made my decision. Exposing my rival’s sordid dealings isn’t exactly clean business, but it’s necessary. I’ll keep my hands out of it, letting it unravel on its own while I remain behind the curtain, anonymous but watchful. I have sources, and I have silence. The rival’s own mistakes will be his undoing, and it won’t trace back to me.But while I keep my focus trained on the fallout, an irritating thought keeps nudging into the back of my mind. I can still see her eyes, the way they lingered on me before she turned away that last time. The empty apartment that greets me confirms it—Emily is gone.I pour a drink, hoping the burn will ease something, anything. But the quiet of the room and the scent of her perfume that still lingers makes it worse. I thought letting her leave would bring me some relief. Instead, it feels like something hollowed out my chest. I down another drink, then another, trying to dull whatever it is that won’t let me rest.A knock interrupts my t
Emily's POVI’m still adjusting to life without Adrian. The days are long, filled with the mundane rhythm of work and the quiet hum of my apartment. I fill my time with meetings, deadlines, and the occasional late-night brainstorming session with my colleagues. Each day, I inch closer to reclaiming the independence I had lost in the whirlwind of our entangled lives.But the shadow of Adrian’s rival still looms large. The fallout from the scandal is a spectacle, and I can’t help but watch as the media unravels the sordid details. It’s fascinating and horrifying, a reminder of how deeply rooted the corruption is in our industry. I sip my coffee, scrolling through headlines, noting the subtle ways Adrian’s name flutters through the articles, like a ghost that refuses to be laid to rest.At a recent company function, someone asks about my history with him, and I carefully craft my response. “We had a professional relationship,” I say, my tone measured. Inside, though, memories cascade—his
Emily’s POVI had thrown myself into preparing for the merger, determined to keep things professional. But Adrian's presence had disrupted my focus every time. We had been forced to spend long hours together, working through details and strategies. As we poured over documents one afternoon, a team member had interrupted us, bearing news that Camille’s scandal had reached the media, with Adrian’s name barely brushing the surface. The revelation had forced us both to reconsider our priorities.I had watched as the weight of the news settled on Adrian, though he had refused to admit it. Our shared frustration over Camille's plotting had brought us closer, and I had begun questioning my previous assumptions about Adrian’s cold demeanor. My anger toward him had started to shift, replaced by a mixture of pity and reluctant respect.“Do you think I wanted this mess?” Adrian had snapped, his voice tinged with exasperation. “Camille’s made sure it’s all tied back to me somehow.”“Maybe if you
Emily’s POVClaire was just settling into the couch, a hand resting protectively over her small but growing bump, her face alight with a hopeful grin as she recounted the latest gossip on Camille's impending trial."See? Karma," Claire said, grinning as she sipped her decaf coffee. "Camille finally overplayed her hand, and now she’s right where she deserves to be."I forced a small smile, trying to absorb Claire's positivity, but a nagging feeling lingered. “You think it’s over?” I murmured, the thought slipping out.Claire scoffed. “She’s done. Even Adrian had to cut her loose, right?”"Yeah," I agreed, but the unease persisted, prickling at the edges of my mind. Camille had always been cunning—sneaky enough to have a backup plan. Even in ruin, she didn’t seem like the kind of person to just disappear quietly.A sudden vibration broke the silence, and I glanced at my phone, realizing Adrian’s name was flashing on the screen. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I quickly turned it face down,
Emily’s POVDespite the lingering sympathy I’d felt for Adrian after his confession, I had to keep my focus. I threw myself into my work, pouring over contracts and project details, determined to avoid the vortex Adrian had created in my life. But no matter how far I tried to distance myself, trouble seemed to follow.News broke that morning—a scandal, one that I never saw coming. False documents, forged to look authentic, were circulating. The documents hinted at a cover-up involving my company, linking me personally to under-the-table deals with Adrian’s rival. It was a complete lie, a fabrication meant to dismantle the credibility I’d fought to build back up after my divorce.Calls poured in from every corner: board members, investors, even reporters. I could barely keep up with my own breath. The weight of betrayal and fear tightened in my chest as I scanned the headlines. How could anyone believe this?Then, as if right on cue, Adrian showed up.Scene Transition: Confrontation wi
Emily’s POVI stared at the nearly empty wine bottle on the table, its deep red contents mocking me, taunting me for the mess I’d managed to turn my life into. I took another gulp, my words slurring as I muttered to no one, “Unfair... it’s all so damn unfair. Here I am, trapped between... between a rock and a hard place, with a man who never lets me forget he’s there.”The only response was the echo off the cold, gray walls and the occasional rumble of thunder outside, as if the universe was reminding me that it, too, had no sympathy for my plight. Rain began tapping against the window, its rhythmic patter mingling with my own growing bitterness. I finished the wine in another swig, the burn making my eyes water as I grumbled into the empty space, “Why can’t anything just... just be simple?”Eventually, the bottle slipped from my fingers, and I drifted into a restless, alcohol-induced haze.The next morning was an assault to every one of my senses. The sunlight piercing through my blin
Emily’s POVClaire dragged me to the one restaurant in the city I’d ever managed to eat at without grimacing. My picky taste buds meant it was no easy feat to find somewhere I didn’t feel nauseous from the food. But as I looked at Claire, who was already ordering her usual mountain of different dishes with wild flavor combinations, I couldn’t help but chuckle.“Honestly, Claire,” I teased, shaking my head. “I don’t understand how someone as tiny as you can eat so much... and in the weirdest combos known to man! How does anyone handle pickles and pasta on the same plate?”She shrugged and grinned, unfazed. “It’s called ‘craving creativity.’ You should try it sometime.”After a delicious, laughter-filled meal, we returned to the office, where Claire insisted on helping me get through my never-ending pile of work. With every file she passed over or glass of water she handed me, I’d say, “Thank you, Claire,” and each time, she’d respond with a playful, “Oh, don’t mention it. You’d do the s
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