Angela's POVLyle’s face is tight with anger, his jaw set in a way I know too well. His gaze pierces through me, sharp and accusatory. I straighten my posture, determined not to cower, but his expression leaves me puzzled.Why does he look so furious?Then it hits me. He thinks I did something to Fiona. Of course, he’d jump to her defense. The thought stings more than I want to admit.“Really,” I say, my voice cold. “You think I’d bully her?”His eyes flicker for a moment, like he might be reconsidering, but he doesn’t say anything.“She’s the one who started it,” I continue, gesturing toward Fiona, who’s standing just behind him. “Do you even care what she said, or are you too busy rushing to her rescue to find out the truth? She said--”Before I can say more, Fiona gasps softly, interrupting the words that are about to come out of my mouth.“Lyle,” she murmurs, her voice trembling. “I don’t feel well…”Her hand clutches her forehead dramatically, and before I can process what’s happ
Lyle's POVSince the meeting with Angela, my mind hasn’t been at peace. The conversation between her and Fiona keeps playing in my head, unraveling every certainty I once held about my sister.Fiona has always been obedient, thoughtful, and—at least in my eyes—incapable of malice. But the accusations Angela made, especially about colluding with her uncle and causing her father’s illness…It’s unthinkable.Yet, I can’t ignore the nagging doubt that’s taken root. Fiona’s behavior lately has been erratic, even by her standards. If there’s any truth to Angela’s claims, I have to know.I pull into the driveway of my mother’s house, the familiar sight of the place doing little to ease the tension in my chest. As I step inside, the faint sound of the television drifts from the living room, accompanied by Fiona’s soft voice humming along to the music playing in the background.When I enter, she looks up from the couch, her pale face breaking into a tentative smile.“Lyle,” she says warmly, he
Lyle's POVFiona’s tearful face lingers in my mind as I leave my mother’s house the next day. My conversation with her always leave me drained, though I try to push the guilt aside. I knew addressing her behavior would be difficult—it always is—but it needed to happen.Her hostility toward Angela has been glaringly obvious for far too long, and no amount of excuses can justify the harm she’s caused. Fiona’s condition is real, but it doesn’t absolve her of responsibility.In any case, her dependency on me needs to be controlled.As I drive back to my place, the memory of Angela comes rushing back, uninvited. That chance encounter at the restaurant, seeing her dressed up and glowing in a way I hadn’t seen before—it’s like a snapshot burned into my mind.Why does she still haunt me?I grip the wheel tighter, jaw clenched as my thoughts spiral. Angela was affectionate, devoted even, and yet she gave up on me. On us. She walked away, taking everything, including the child we were supposed
Angela's POVThe morning sun streams through the window as I adjust my blazer in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Today is the day—a new chapter, a fresh start.My father is finally home, recovering from weeks of illness. It’s a relief to see him smile again, to watch him slowly regain his strength. Leaving his company wasn’t an easy decision, but we both agreed it was time for me to forge my own path.Michael’s firm is the perfect place to do that.Still, as I step into the sleek office building, my nerves buzz like static electricity. I smooth my hair again, clutching the strap of my bag tighter. The lobby is alive with the hum of phones ringing, conversations overlapping, and the steady rhythm of heels clicking against polished floors.I remind myself why I’m here. I’ve spent years sacrificing my ambitions for other people—for Lyle, for my family. This time, it’s for me.A woman in a tailored navy suit approaches, her posture straight and her gaze sharp. She looks like someone who
Angela's POVThe aroma of freshly baked bread and roasted garlic wafts through the air as I glance around the cozy Italian restaurant. I smooth the napkin across my lap, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous energy. Michael arrives exactly on time, his familiar, easy smile lighting up his face as he spots me at the corner table.“Angela,” he says warmly, pulling out a chair. “This place is great. Did you pick it?”“I did,” I reply, unable to suppress a smile. “It’s one of my favorites. Thank you for coming.”“I wouldn’t miss it,” he says, settling into his seat.As we place our orders, I feel a flutter of anticipation. Tonight is about gratitude—for everything Michael has done for me over the past few weeks, and for helping me find my footing at the firm.Once the waiter leaves, I turn to him, unable to hide my excitement. “I just wanted to say thank you—for everything. These past few days have been incredible. I’ve learned so much already.”Michael raises an eyebrow, his curiosity
Angela's POVThe ballroom is bathed in a soft, golden glow, chandeliers casting warm light over the crowd of elegantly dressed guests. The sound of clinking glasses and polite laughter fills the air as I move through the sea of people, offering practiced smiles and handshakes.Tonight is a big night. It’s my father’s first public appearance since his recovery, and all eyes are on him. After everything our company has endured recently, his presence is a signal to the world that we’re still standing. As his daughter, I know I’m being watched too.I adjust the hem of my dress, a sleek navy gown that fits perfectly, and lift my chin higher. Every detail tonight matters, from my confident smile to the grace in my movements. This is my chance to support my father and show that the Hartman family is stronger than ever.“Angela, you look radiant tonight,” a familiar voice says as an old associate approaches, his hand extended.“Thank you,” I reply warmly, shaking his hand. “It’s wonderful to
Angela's POVI don’t want to hear anything he has to say.I make it three steps back toward the ballroom before Lyle catches my arm again. His grip is firm but not forceful, his expression a mix of frustration and something that looks uncomfortably close to desperation.“Angela,” he says, his voice low but intense. “Please, just listen to me.”I turn to face him, yanking my arm free. “What could you possibly have to say, Lyle? You’ve said enough already.”His jaw tightens, and he exhales slowly, as if trying to steady himself. “I was wrong,” he begins. “I misunderstood you.”I freeze, my chest tightening as I wait for him to continue.“I know I accused you of being… someone you’re not,” he admits, his gaze fixed on me. “I let my assumptions cloud my judgment. I thought you were after my money, that you only stayed because of what I could give you.”I frown, unsure of what to make of it all.“I found out about what my mother did,” he continues, his voice quieter now. “The pressure she
Lyle's POVHer words hit me like a punch to the gut.The crowd around us faded, the hum of the gala becoming distant and inconsequential. I stood there, unable to move, my mind reeling from what Angela had just said.I don’t understand why I can’t let this go. Why can’t I stop trying to fix something that’s clearly broken beyond repair?The truth in her voice, the raw honesty of her accusations—it wasn’t just painful. It was shattering.She’s right.I’ve spent so much of my life focused on building my company, climbing higher, and chasing success. All the while, I’d neglected the most important person in my life.Angela had stood by me through everything. She had loved me, supported me, and asked for so little in return. I’d given her even less. I hadn’t seen her, really seen her, until now—when it’s too late.The realization cuts deep.I didn’t value her the way I should have, and now I’m paying the price.Even tonight, I’d tried to help her. She’s living who knows where, and I thoug
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