Lyle's POVI spot Mark across the café, looking as sharp as ever, with that slight smirk that usually means he’s about to ask something I won’t want to answer. We’ve known each other too long for me to brush him off, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a pain. As soon as I sit down, he’s already studying me with that calculating look.“So,” Mark says, leaning back in his chair, “was helping Angela enough to prove your point, or are you planning something bigger?”I scoff, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s not about Angela,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “I just needed a way to push back against my mother. She’s been sticking her nose into everything, thinking she can control my decisions and the business. Supporting Angela irritates her—and if it keeps her out of my affairs, that’s a win.”Mark raises an eyebrow, looking anything but convinced. “Uh-huh,” he says, his voice full of skepticism. “So, just to be clear, you’re helping out your ex, but it’s purely a play against your mother. Angel
Angela's POVSitting by the window, I feel torn, my mind bouncing from one conflicted thought to another. The soft glow of my phone lights up the room, pulling me back to the present. I glance down, my heart skipping as I read the name on the screen—Lyle. Even now, his name alone brings a surge of emotions that I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with. My thumb hovers over the screen, but after a moment, I let it keep ringing. I don’t need this; I don’t need him disturbing the fragile peace I’ve managed to build.Despite my decision, I can’t shake the question that immediately rises in my mind: Why is he calling me? I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe steadily, reminding myself that this chapter of my life is over, or at least it’s supposed to be. I’d chosen to cut him out, to sever the ties that kept pulling me into his orbit. I don’t want to be dragged back into his games.Hours pass, but Lyle’s call lingers in my mind. I try to focus on other things, anything to distract mysel
Angela's POVArmed with the evidence in hand, I stride into the company building, feeling a mix of fury and resolve. I know confronting Jay is going to be ugly, but I’m past caring. He’s done enough damage, and it’s time he sees that his games won’t go unchallenged. I walk directly to Dad’s office - or Jay’s now, I suppose - office, ignoring the curious glances of employees along the way, and open the door without knocking. Jay is seated behind his desk, barely looking up from his papers as if he doesn’t care about who’s just stormed into his office. “Angela,” he says smoothly, leaning back with a smug expression. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” “You know exactly why I’m here,” I reply, my voice icy. I step forward, setting the stack of evidence on his desk with a pointed thud. “Care to explain why you’ve been sharing my father’s condition with Fiona? Don’t bother denying it; I have all the proof right here.” His eyes flicker briefly, but his composure doesn’t falter. He glan
Lyle's POVI used the pretense of discussing a business plan to visit Jay's office, but that wasn't my true intention. My real goal was to confirm whether Jay had been secretly colluding with a member of my family. A series of recent events at Angela 's father's company had been far too coincidental to ignore. I had my suspicions, but lacked concrete evidence to substantiate them.When I arrived at his office, the muffled hum of voices drifted out from within, halting my next step. I noticed the door was slightly ajar, and voices drifted out from within. Little did I know, the words I was about to hear would shake me to my core.Jay’s voice mocked, sharp and cruel.“The way you two met, the incident with those so-called ruffians? Planned, orchestrated by yours truly. Even Lyle’s heroic appearance was all part of the plan. I needed him invested, needed you to fall right into line."“You’re despicable.” I hear a voice, choked with anger, and I'm certain it belongs to Angela.The realiza
Angela's POVThe company doors feel heavier than usual as I push them open and step out into the crisp evening air. The chill nips at my cheeks, but I barely notice. My pulse still races from the confrontation with Lyle, the echo of his words following me like a shadow.Even if he knows now that he was wrong, what difference does it make?I walk briskly down the street, the sound of my heels clicking against the pavement cutting through the hum of the city. My thoughts swirl in a chaotic mess. I pause at the corner of a busy intersection, waiting for the light to change. A woman brushes past me, her laughter carrying on the breeze as she links arms with the man beside her.It was like how I once imagined Lyle and I would be.It’s too late. Too much has been broken.My phone buzzes in my coat pocket, pulling me from the spiral. I pull it out, half-expecting another email from Lyle. Instead, Michael Sterling’s name lights up the screen.I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the screen, bef
The email sits in my outbox, mocking me with its silence. For days, I’ve tried to contact Angela—texts, calls, emails—but she’s ignored every single one. My phone is always within reach, the faint hope of her reply keeping me tethered to a threadbare patience.She doesn’t even read the messages anymore.I lean back in my chair, staring out the window at the skyline. The city sprawls beneath me, bustling with life, but I feel detached from it all. My office, once a symbol of everything I’d built, feels stifling now, its walls closing in with every passing minute.Why is she still so angry?All I want is the truth. After everything, I deserve that much, don’t I?Yet, she’s moved on with no word so quickly.The thought twists in my chest, sharp and bitter. She’s barely been gone a month, and already she seems happier—more fulfilled. I don’t know what she’s been busy with, but from what I hear, she’s thriving.Meanwhile, I’m stuck in this limbo, staring at an inbox that will never give me
Lyle's POVThe low hum of conversation fills the restaurant hours later, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the faint strains of soft piano music.It’s the kind of place where everything feels curated, polished. Fiona sits across from me, her face alight with excitement as she talks about her first week in the office.I guess this is because I just allowed her to choose whatever dishes she liked.I was too harsh with her in the office just now, completely forgetting about her mental illness. Whether as her boss or her older brother, I shouldn’t have treated Fiona that way.Yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to fully engage in comforting my little sister. Any news about Angela still haunts me, lingering in my mind.My fork hovers over the plate in front of me, untouched. I nod occasionally, offering half-hearted responses. I’ve mastered the art of appearing engaged while my thoughts are miles away.Out of the corner of my eye, a movement catches my attention. My gaze shifts, lan
Angela's POVThe hum of chatter and laughter from the private room fades as I step into the hallway, the muffled sounds a distant backdrop to my racing thoughts. Tonight has been a whirlwind—my first big event with my new colleagues.I dressed up to make a good impression, trading my usual understated look for a sleek black dress and subtle makeup.I smooth my dress and head toward the bathroom, my heels clicking against the polished floor. My mind is still buzzing with snippets of conversations from earlier, the smiles and warm welcomes leaving me hopeful for this fresh start.As I near the main dining area, my steps falter.Lyle.He’s here.He’s sitting at a corner table with Fiona, leaning close to her as she speaks animatedly. Her hand brushes his arm, and the sight feels like a punch to the stomach.I freeze, the world tilting for a moment. The warmth of the evening drains away, leaving a cold ache in its place.Why does this still hurt?I force myself to move, rushing past befor
Angela's POV“Looks like you’re doing well. Found yourself a new sugar daddy?”The words stop me in my tracks. Malice drips from every syllable, sharp and cutting, as if they’ve been honed specifically to wound. I don’t need to turn to know who it is.I do. Slowly.Fiona stands a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture all smug confidence. Her tailored dress clings perfectly to her, her carefully styled hair gleaming under the overhead lights. She looks flawless, as always, but the gleam in her eyes is sharper than ever, practically daring me to react.“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice steady despite the way my pulse quickens. “Shouldn’t you be… recuperating?”Her smirk falters, just for a split second, before she tilts her head, recovering quickly. “There’s nothing wrong with me.,” she replies,her tone laced with mockery. “Besides the fact I’m forced to see your face again. Why are you here, anyway?”“I’m here for work,” I answer curtly, gripping the str
Angela's POVThe sunlight feels too cheerful for my mood as I step outside, where Michael is waiting by his car. His tie is slightly loosened, and his sleeves are rolled up just enough to give him that effortless, approachable look that seems to come so naturally to him. He waves when he sees me, a small smile tugging at his lips.“Ready?” he asks as I approach.“I could’ve taken the bus,” I say, though there’s no real conviction in my voice.“I could’ve let you,” he replies with a smirk. “We both know I wouldn’t feel good about that. After you were jumped the other day, this isn’t up for debate. Get in.”I sigh, giving him a look, but I climb into the passenger seat anyway. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”“Just looking out for a friend,” he says lightly as he pulls into traffic.The drive is quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the space between us. I fiddle with the strap of my bag, trying not to think too much about where I’m headed.“First day nerves?” Michael a
Angela's POVWednesday morning starts like any other. The office is already buzzing by the time I settle into my desk. A half-empty cup of coffee sits precariously close to my laptop as I navigate my inbox, skimming through a mountain of emails that demand my attention. Case files are piled neatly on one side of my desk, each one begging to be reviewed, dissected, and resolved.The hum of conversations and the occasional ring of a phone create a familiar rhythm in the background. It’s nothing I haven’t handled before, and I take comfort in the structure of it all.I’m midway through drafting an email, trying to word a response delicately enough to satisfy a difficult client, when a soft knock on my door catches my attention.I glance up to see Michael standing in the doorway, a thick folder tucked under his arm. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a tightness around his mouth that immediately puts me on edge. Michael doesn’t usually hesitate—he’s decisive, clear, and steady.
Angela's POVThe tapping of my pen against the desk is rhythmic, almost hypnotic, as I stare at the document in front of me. The words blur together, the details slipping through my mind like water through my fingers. No matter how hard I try to focus, my thoughts keep drifting back to the folder with Grayson Enterprises stamped on the cover.It’s been days since Michael decided we’d move forward with the collaboration, and though the meeting hasn’t been scheduled yet, the anticipation hangs over me like a storm cloud. Lyle feels closer now, even though I haven’t seen or spoken to him since that night.I shake my head, trying to dispel the growing tightness in my chest, but it doesn’t help. I need to focus.A soft knock at the door pulls me from my spiral.“Come in,” I say, grateful for the distraction.Michael steps inside, his usual calm demeanor in place, though his eyes are watchful. He’s always quick to notice when something’s off, and I can tell by the slight tilt of his head
Angela's POVThe morning starts like any other—coffee brewing in the break room, the hum of conversation as colleagues file into their offices, and the faint rustle of papers being sorted for the day ahead. I’m halfway through drafting a brief when a soft knock on my office door draws my attention.“Got a minute?” Michael asks, stepping inside without waiting for an answer.“Of course,” I say, setting my pen down and leaning back in my chair. His expression is thoughtful, the kind he wears when he’s working through something important.He walks over, a thick folder in hand, and takes the seat across from me. “We’ve received a collaboration proposal,” he begins, sliding the folder across the desk.I glance down at it, skimming the header, and feel my stomach tighten. The company name at the top is unmistakable: Grayson Enterprises.For a moment, I can’t speak, my thoughts swirling. Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised. Lyle’s company is one of the biggest players in the area. It was on
Angela's POVThe first time I saw him, seven years ago, I didn’t know his name, but I knew he wasn’t like anyone I had met before.I had just started university, my nerves running high as I navigated the unfamiliar campus. Everything about it felt overwhelming—the sprawling buildings, the steady hum of activity, the throngs of students who all seemed to know exactly where they were going and what they were doing.It was during the first lecture of the semester that I noticed him. The auditorium was packed, every seat filled with students murmuring among themselves. I found a spot near the middle, clutching my notebook like it was a lifeline. My focus was on the professor, who was preparing to introduce the syllabus, but the energy in the room shifted suddenly, a ripple of quiet excitement sweeping through the rows.He had walked in.Tall, confident, and exuding an ease that seemed almost effortless, he commanded attention without trying. He wore a simple shirt and jeans, nothing extr
Angela's POVI lock eyes with Lyle, and his expression is unlike anything I’ve ever seen on him before. The confidence he wears like armor is gone, replaced by something raw and unfamiliar. His worry is written plainly in the furrow of his brow, the tension in his jaw.I want to look away, to turn my back on the complicated swirl of emotions in his gaze, but I can’t.“Angela,” Michael’s voice cuts through the moment, drawing my attention back to him. His tone is soft but firm, grounding me.“Are you okay?” he asks, his concern evident. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”I shake my head slowly, my voice trembling. “I… I’m fine. Just shaken up.”My words feel hollow, the adrenaline still coursing through me, leaving my thoughts scattered. The encounter with the muggers had rattled me more than I wanted to admit.Twice now, I’ve found myself in situations like this. The first time, Lyle had been the one to pull me from danger, and it had changed everything between us. This time, though
Angela's POVLyle stares at me, frozen, his eyes wide as if my words have finally broken through the shell of his confidence. For a moment, I wonder if he might walk away, but then he speaks.“I thought…” he begins, his voice soft, uncertain. “I thought you were perfect for me. I thought we both knew that. All these years, Angela, haven’t you been thinking the same thing?”His words are like a slap, equal parts laughable and infuriating.I let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and humorless. “You really don’t know anything, do you?”He frowns, clearly thrown off by my tone.“Someone might be perfect for you, but that doesn’t matter if they’re unhappy. I don’t exist to be a girlfriend—or even a wife—for you, Lyle,” I continue, my voice rising. “This isn’t about what you need, what you want, or what works for you. It’s about both of us. You’ve never once stopped to think about what I deserve.”I stop myself before the words tumble out, the ones I’ve been holding inside for far too lon
Angela's POVThe office is nearly silent as I pack my things that evening, the hum of the overhead lights the only sound in the otherwise empty space. It’s later than usual, but the long hours feel worth it. Today had been productive, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m building something meaningful.As I sling my bag over my shoulder and step into the corridor, I glance toward the conference room near the corner. The lights are still on, spilling a warm glow into the hallway.Michael’s still here.I hesitate for a moment, debating whether to check in, but decide against it. He’s likely in the middle of something, and I don’t want to disturb him. Instead, I head for the stairwell, my thoughts shifting to the evening ahead.The air is cool as I step outside, the city alive with its usual nighttime energy. I wrap my coat tighter around myself and start walking toward the nearest bus stop.“Angela.”I freeze at the sound of his voice, low and unmistakable.Turning, I s