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
Mirabel’s POVThe baby isn’t his.I’ve told myself that so many times, it feels like a mantra. And why wouldn’t I believe it? I have his mother wrapped around my finger, and Vincent... well, he’ll never know. Men like him don’t ask questions when the answers might inconvenience them.Still, as I stand in front of the ornate mirror in my suite, brushing a hand over my barely-there bump, memories of six months ago creep in, unbidden and relentless.Six Months AgoThe club was alive with electric energy, music thundering in time with my pulse. Neon lights danced across the packed room, blurring faces and distorting intentions. I sat in the VIP lounge, surrounded by sycophants who laughed too loudly and drank too much.“She’s getting too big for her boots, don’t you think?” Sandra, the loudest and most shameless of them all, leaned in, her voice dripping with malice.I didn’t have to ask who “she” was. My assistant—the irritating little upstart who’d somehow managed to secure a role in th
The streets of Italy had been both a haven and a hell for me. After leaving the movie set in disgrace, I thought I could land on my feet. Surely, someone in this glamorous city would recognize my beauty and charm.But I had no plan—just desperation. For a month, I drifted from one extravagant party to another, mingling with powerful men. A few were intrigued by my looks and rising star status, but none saw me as more than a fleeting distraction.“You’re stunning, but let’s not pretend this is more than it is,” one man had told me, dismissing me like I was some common club girl.I hated the way they looked at me—like I was cheap. And as my pregnancy became harder to hide, their interest waned. I tried convincing myself that I could manage alone, but the truth was, I was sinking fast.By the end of the month, my options were gone, and my savings were dwindling. That’s when it hit me—I didn’t need some random Italian billionaire. I already had someone who would do whatever it took to pro
Mirabel’s POVVincent’s mother entered the living room, a tray of fresh fruit in her hands. She smiled warmly at me, setting it down on the table in front of me. "You should relax, Mirabel," she said kindly, her tone motherly as she patted my shoulder. "Let me pamper you.""Thank you, Mother," I said, reverting back to the role I’d carefully crafted. I’d always called her "godmother," but now, with her affection and the way she had welcomed me back into the family, it seemed fitting to step up the intimacy. The word felt sweeter now, more genuine in my mind, but I kept my face neutral, feigning innocence.Her eyes softened. "You don't need to call me 'godmother' anymore. You can call me 'mother' from now on."I smiled, nodding as if her words were a blessing, though inwardly, I knew I had to play this part carefully. She was so eager to please, to believe the best in me. And that was exactly what I needed. I let my fingers graze the edge of the fruit bowl, eyes still on her, wondering
Larry's POVI lay there on the sterile white bed, my arm throbbing from the stitches the doctor had just finished applying. The pain was nothing compared to the growing tension in the room. Marissa was beside me, her fiery gaze still locked on the door where the doctor had just exited. I could feel the heat of her anger radiating off her like a furnace. She was muttering curses under her breath, fuming about the person who had dared to lay a hand on her husband.I let out a deep breath, trying to remain calm. I knew I had to. I couldn’t afford to make her angrier, not now. She was already so close to snapping. Her temper was something I’d learned to fear. And right now, I had to navigate this minefield carefully—because I was the one who had planted the bomb.As soon as the door clicked shut behind the doctor, Marissa turned to me, her eyes blazing. "What happened, Larry?" she demanded, her voice sharp. "Tell me everything. I want the truth."I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry. I kn
Larry's POVThe bass of the club’s music vibrated through my chest, but I barely felt it. Claire was beside me, as always, her eyes sparkling with the excitement of the night. I had told her it was just a simple date—a night out to unwind and enjoy ourselves. But in reality, I had already mapped out everything in my head. This was the night I’d get what I wanted, no matter the cost.I’d never been faithful to Claire. But she never knew. She trusted me, and I let her, even though I was a man who craved more than what she offered. It was easy—she never suspected a thing. Tonight was no different. I had plans. I needed to take what I wanted, and Claire, oblivious to it all, was just a convenient distraction.The club was packed, the lights flickering in rhythm with the music. I caught sight of a woman across the room. She was perfect—tall, blonde, and alluring, with a body that promised everything I wanted. I had to have her.I wasn’t about to let Claire stand in the way. I slipped a pil
Claire’s POV (Present Day)I sat in my car, my head resting on the steering wheel, feeling as if the weight of the world was pressing down on me. I was too exhausted to move, too tired to even think about going inside my house. The night had drained me—emotionally, physically. My limbs felt heavy, and my mind was a jumbled mess of confusion, fear, and exhaustion. I stared out through the windshield, trying to focus, but everything felt surreal. It all felt like a dream, like I was floating, detached from everything around me.And then, without warning, the flashback hit me, pulling me back to six months ago. I remembered the night Larry had insisted we go to a club. I wasn’t the club type. I never had been. The noise, the crowds—it wasn’t my scene. But he’d begged me, and for some reason, I gave in. Maybe it was because I thought it was time to take the next step in our relationship. We’d been dating for three months, and I’d held off on sleeping with him. Maybe it was time, I thought
Vincent’s POVTelling Claire the truth was harder than I expected. I’d thought the weight of keeping it to myself had been unbearable, but watching the disbelief settle in her eyes as I explained everything crushed me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. She sat across from me, her arms folded tightly around her middle, like she was bracing herself against my words.When I finished, she shook her head slowly, her voice trembling. “I find that very difficult to believe.”I swallowed hard, nodding. “I know,” I said softly, reaching into my pocket. Her eyes followed my hand with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity until I pulled out the velvet box and placed it gently on the table between us.Her gaze flicked between the box and my face, and when she finally spoke, her voice was laced with pain. “Why are you showing me something meant for your fiancée?”The hurt in her tone gutted me. I shook my head, pushing the box a little closer to her. “It’s not for her,” I said firmly. “I bought it the d
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