Noah's POV: I leaned back in my chair, my fingers frozen over the keyboard, unable to type another word. Mirabelle’s words still echoed in my mind. “Maybe this marriage was never real to you in the first place.” The accusation hit me harder than I wanted to admit, and the more I thought about it, the tighter my chest felt. I tried to focus, staring blankly at the spreadsheet on my laptop. But the numbers blurred. My mind slowly drifted to the past. It was two years ago, just after we had taken the kids to the park. Tyler had fallen off his bike, scraping his knee, and he was crying so hard that his face was bright red. I had rushed over, panicking, but before I could reach him, Mirabelle was already there, pulling him into her arms, wiping his tears with soft whispers. She kissed his forehead, and his cries turned into hiccups, his small arms wrapping around her neck. I remembered the way Mirabelle looked up at me with a gentle smile, saying. “You worry too much. He’s toughe
Noah's POV:I blinked, taken aback by the familiarity in her tone. “I... I think you have me confused with someone else,” I said gently, but she just smiled up at me.“Oh, don’t be silly,” she said, clutching my hand. “You’ve always been there for me, every step of the way.” Her frail fingers tightened around mine, and my heart twisted at the softness in her voice. Before I could say anything else, an older man approached us. “I’m so sorry,” He said, forcing out a smile. “My wife... she has dementia. She thinks every kind young man is me, from when we were younger.” He took her hand from mine with a patient smile. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s sit down.”He led his wife to a bench, and they sat together, her head resting on his shoulder as he held her close.I hesitated before asking. “How long have you both been married?”The man looked at me surprised, before smiling softly. “We’ve been married for over fifty years. Met when we were just kids, and we’ve been through... well, more th
Mirabelle's POV:“Mirabelle?” Ken’s voice was gentle but insistent. “What is it?”I sighed and pushed my chair back abruptly. “I have to go.” I said, smiling. “I’m sorry, Ken, I can’t do this right now.”“Mirabelle, wait—” he started, but I was already walking out of the restaurant, the door slamming shut behind me.I got home earlier than usual and found Jamie tidying up the living room. She looked up as I came in, her eyes widening when she saw my face.“Is everything alright, Mrs. Sylvester?” she asked, setting down the duster. I opened my mouth to say yes, to tell her not to worry, but instead, something inside me broke. “No,” I said, and my voice cracked. “No, Jamie, nothing is alright.” She was by my side in an instant, guiding me to the kitchen table and pushing a steaming cup of tea into my hands. I didn’t even realize I was crying until I tasted the salt of my tears on my lips. “Take your time, dear,” Jamie said softly, sitting down across from me. I told her everything—t
Mirabelle's POV: I swallowed, my throat dry. "But what if you do?" I asked quietly. "What if you keep working with her? And then you end up getting close to her in a way that I can’t handle? What happens to us then?" I finally voiced my insecurity and didn't act as strong as I did before. Noah shifted, sitting up fully now, and his expression softened. "Mirabelle, you have to trust me. I've never given you a reason to doubt me, have I?" I stared at him for a long moment. I didn’t want to admit it, but I felt like everything had changed. "I want to trust you," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But how can I? I know it’s silly, but seeing you with Natasha—it just feels like you’re slipping away from me."Noah’s jaw tightened, and he reached out, placing a hand on my knee. "Mirabelle, you need to trust me. Especially after everything we’ve been through." I felt my chest tighten."I know," I said, forcing out a smile. "I know you’ve always had my back, and I’m grateful
Noah's POV: “I’ve missed you so much.” I confessed genuinely, fumbling for her bra clasp. “Same,” She moaned, arching her back. “Front clasp,” Mira explained and with one flick of my fingers, her surprisingly perfect breasts sprang forth, even after having three kids for me. Aren't I so lucky? I definitely was. “Turn around,” I said huskily, placing my hands on her waist. “Ohhhhh,” She moaned, as I got on my knees. Touching my lips to the band of her lace thong, I delicately placed my lips and teeth around the fabric and began pulling it down. “Fuck,” She whispered. I found her laying down with me hovering above her. I massaged her scalp with strong fingers, digging in just the right amount while dropping gentle kisses on her lips, neck and shoulders. Her nipples were so hard I was afraid they’d pop off, and while my dick throbbed with need I grabbed the back of her head gently, pulling her closer for a deep kiss. Bending down, I began to worship her breasts with my ton
Mitchelle's POV:My grip on the glass tightened. Mirabelle. Of course this was about her. It has to be about her. “Get to the point,” I said impatiently. “What exactly are you proposing?” Natasha leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I want Noah back. And I can’t do that with Mirabelle playing the perfect wife. But you—” she paused, eyeing me carefully “—you seem to have your own issues with Mirabelle. And don’t try to deny it. I can see it in your eyes.”How the hell did she know about my issues with Estella?“Sounds like you've done a research on me, which means you must know that Mirabelle is my sister. So what makes you think that I would want to engage in such conversations with you.” I countered.“Stepsister.” She corrected me. “And yes I did a research and I discovered that you stole her husband, which also means that you don't really have a relationship with her.” She clapped back.She wasn’t wrong. The anger, the resentment towards her, it had been building for
Mitchelle's POV:He took a step closer. "This is different," He hissed. "I know you’re up to something. You’ve been acting strange for weeks, and now you won’t even tell me where you’ve been."I laughed, but it was bitter and hollow. "You think I’m acting strange? Have you looked in the mirror lately, Ken? You’ve been distant, distracted—like you’re hiding something. So don’t lecture me about secrets."Ken’s face twisted and before I could react, he threw the glass he was holding against the wall. It shattered into a thousand pieces, and the sound echoed through the room like a gunshot. My heart jumped in my chest, but I refused to flinch. I stood my ground, even as he took another step toward me, his eyes blazing with rage."Don’t you dare talk to me like that," he growled, his voice shaking. "You owe me respect.""Respect?" I shot back, my voice rising. "Respect goes both ways, Ken. You don’t get to treat me like I’m some possession you own. I won’t be controlled by you, not anymore
Mitchelle's POV:I followed him. “You said that last month, and the month before that! We’re drowning in debt because of you!”Ken turned around, he grabbed a vase from the counter and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, sending shards of porcelain scattering across the floor. I flinched, my breath catching in my throat.“Don’t push me, Mitchelle. The next time it might just be you that will be flung across the room.” He hissed. “I’m doing everything I can, and I won’t have you standing there, acting like you’re some saint when you’ve done nothing but sit around and criticize.”For a moment, I couldn’t find my voice. I stared at him, my heart pounding, and I wondered how it had come to this—how did the man I once loved had become a stranger who only knew how to shout and break things. I wanted to scream, to throw something back at him, but I was too exhausted. I had no more fight left in me.Instead, I turned away, my hands trembling as I grabbed my phone from th
Mirabelle's POV:Carter’s eyes widened slightly, his posture straightening. “Are you sure?”“Yes.” I said, my voice firmer now. “I’m sure. I’ve seen him a lot of time. It’s Samuel. But why? Why would he...?”My words trailed off, the room seeming to tilt around me as I tried to make sense of what I had just seen. Samuel? Noah’s manager? It didn’t make sense, but there was no denying what was in front of me.Carter leaned back. “This changes things.” He said, as he massaged his temples. “If what you’re saying is true, Mrs. Sylvester, then we'll have to bring him in for questioning.”My hands were clammy. “Yes.” I managed to say, my voice barely holding together. “You have to. He’s the one.”“Alright.” Carter said, closing the laptop and giving me a long, hard look. “I’ll handle it from here. We’ll contact you as soon as we have more information.”I nodded. As I stood to leave, Carter reached out. “Take care of yourself, ma'am.”I forced a tight smile. “I hope so…” I said, my voice brea
Mirabelle's POV:“I don’t want to talk about it.” I said, feeling my eyes burn with unshed tears. “That's fine, but I don't think you should trust her.” He added.“I just... I don’t even know who to trust anymore, Ken. Everything feels like it’s falling apart. I don’t know who’s on my side, or who’s out to get me.” I said, forcing out a smile.“Hey.” He said, as he reached across the desk and took my hand in his. “I’m on your side. You know that, right?”His touch was warm, and for a moment, I felt good. I didn’t pull my hand away, didn’t try to hide the tears that slipped down my cheeks. “I want to believe you.” I whispered. “I do. But I’ve been burned before, and I don’t know if I can trust my instincts anymore.”“Then trust mine.” He said quietly. “I don’t like Natasha, Mira. There’s something off about her. I don’t know what it is, but I think she’s hiding something. And if Noah can’t see that, then maybe he’s too close to the situation.”I opened my mouth to argue, but the words
Mirabelle’s POV: In the afternoon, my phone rang, and I answered firmly. “Hello?”“Mrs. Sylvester, this is Officer Carter. We need you to come to the station. We have something to show you.”My heart skipped a beat. “I’ll be there.” I said, grabbing my bag and heading out the door without another word. I barely noticed the curious glances of my staff as I left the building.When I arrived, Officer Carter met me at the entrance. He led me through the maze of hallways to a small, windowless room with a single table and a laptop.“This is the footage we recovered.” He said, motioning for me to sit. My hands trembled as I settled into the chair, and he pushed the laptop toward me. “Press play whenever you’re ready.”I hesitated, my finger hovering over the touchpad, then took a deep breath and pressed play. The screen flickered, showing a blurry recording from one of the security cameras. The timestamp was from the night of the fire, just a few hours before everything went up in flames.
Mirabelle’s POV:I snapped the radio off, my heart pounding in my chest. It wasn’t just my name they were tarnishing—it was everything I’d worked for, everything Noah had built. I was losing control, and I hated it.As if on cue, my phone rang again, and I answered without checking the caller ID.“Mrs. Sylvester, it’s Officer Carter.” Came the now-familiar voice. “I have a few questions for you.”“Go ahead.” I said, barely able to keep my voice calm.“Has there been any breach in your security measures at the site?” He asked.I swallowed hard. “No. We followed every guideline. Every safety protocol was in place.”“Is there anyone you suspect might have wanted to sabotage your renovation project?” He pressed.“No.” I replied automatically, the words slipping from my lips before I even had a chance to think. “No... I don’t think so.”There was a pause on the other end of the line, then Carter’s voice returned, more serious this time. “There’s evidence suggesting the possibility of foul
Mirabelle's POV:My footsteps echoed down the polished floors of the hospital, as I followed the doctor through the corridors to the rooms of the injured workers.These were the men who had trusted me, who had worked on my project—the project that had gone up in flames. Now, they lay broken in these beds, and I had no idea how I would face them.The first room was quiet except for the steady beep of machines monitoring the patient's vitals. A man, no older than thirty, lay propped against pillows, his face pale and drawn. His leg, wrapped in layers of gauze and bandages, was elevated, suspended in a frame. I swallowed, forcing a smile as I stepped closer. The doctor, a man in his fifties with graying hair, stepped forward. "He was lucky to survive." The doctor began. "When the building collapsed, a section of the scaffolding came down on his legs. He’ll be bedridden for a while, but he’s alive.”I looked at the man—at his closed eyes, the way his chest rose and fell with labored brea
Mirabelle's POV: I stared at my phone in my hand, hesitating for a moment before answering. It was Noah. He’d been on my mind all day, and the last few days had felt like an emotional rollercoaster. I hated it. I missed him, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling I have every time I thought about him and Natasha. “Hello?” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Mirabelle…” Noah’s voice was strained, almost hesitant. I could hear something in the way he said my name that made my heart ache. “We need to talk.” My breath caught in my throat. I’d been expecting this. I knew it was coming. “Okay,” I replied softly, sitting back in my chair, trying to prepare myself for whatever was about to come. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” Noah continued, his voice low. “The other night, when Natasha and I… when we had dinner together. I need to be honest with you.” My stomach tightened. He sounded like he was about to confess something important. I waited, unsure of how to respon
Mirabelle's POV: He looked awful, dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped. I wanted to tell him to leave, then get up and shut the door in his face, but I couldn’t. “Mirabelle,” He said quietly, and the sound of my name in his voice made me feel weak. “Why are you here, Ken?” I asked, harsher than I meant to. He sat down without asking, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I came to apologize. Last night... I was out of line. I shouldn’t have—” “Yes, you shouldn’t have,” I interrupted, my voice shaking. “And you had no right to act that way you. That wasn't right.” “I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “I just... I still love you, Mira. I’ve never stopped. Seeing you happy with Noah... it’s killing me. I’m a different man now. I need you to know that.” I didn’t want to hear it. I couldn’t. “We’re over, Ken. I am tired of repeating the same line over and over again. It’s too fucking late, Ken.” I said, but even I heard the uncertainty in my voice. He looked so
Mirabelle's POV:We stared at each other for a while. I was about to leave, to put this strange, confusing moment behind me, when he grabbed my wrist, his grip was surprisingly strong.“Ken, let go,” I said, but my voice lacked conviction.His eyes were glary and intense. “No,” he said softly, pulling me closer, his face inches from mine. Before I could react, he moved, his body pressing me back against the bed. I was too shocked to move, his breath was warm on my skin.“Ken, stop—”But he didn’t. He leaned in, slowly, his lips almost touching mine.“No!” I yelled, shoving him back with all the strength I had left. He stumbled, and I was on my feet in an instant, my heart pounding.I backed away, my hands trembling. “You need help, Ken.” I remarked. “But it’s not going to come from me.”He looked at me with a mix of hurt and confusion, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I grabbed my things, practically fleeing the room and slamming the door behind me.Outside, the cool night air
Mirabelle's POV:I sat at my desk, staring at the stack of paperwork. My eyes felt heavy, and the clock on my computer read 9:12 p.m. I should have been home two hours ago, but my mind was stuck in Shanghai. More accurately, it was stuck in that moment earlier when Noah cut our conversation short because of Natasha’s sudden arrival. He said he loved me, and I didn’t say it back.“Focus, Mira,” I muttered, rubbing my temples and forcing myself to glance back at the documents. Numbers, words, data—they swam in front of me, meaningless. It was no use. My thoughts kept circling back to Noah’s voice, how it had gone tense and cautious, when he said he had to go.I was pulled out of my thoughts by the sudden vibration of my phone on the desk. Noah’s name flashed on the screen. My heart skipped a beat. I hesitated, thumb hovering over the answer button, then picked up.“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice calm, trying not to sound like I'd been obsessing over our earlier call.“Hey, Mira.” He