Lyle's POVThe weight of Angela in my arms feels both grounding and surreal, her unconscious state a constant reminder of how close I came to losing her. The scene from moments ago replays in my mind like a haunting loop—Fiona’s wild eyes, her unrestrained fury, and the way Angela stumbled back against the wall, cornered and vulnerable.For the first time in years, I felt something foreign and overwhelming: panic.I’ve faced high-stakes negotiations, volatile boardroom power plays, even moments when the future of my company teetered on the edge. None of that compares to the sheer terror that gripped me as Fiona lunged toward Angela. The thought of her being hurt—of her slipping away—was unbearable.I glance down at her pale face, her lashes resting delicately against her cheeks. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. It strikes me just how fragile she looks, yet I know she’s anything but. Angela has always been strong—stronger than I ever gave her credit for.The moment I saw her her
Angela's POVI sit up straighter on the couch, my hands folded tightly in my lap as I brace myself for whatever he’s about to say.“I’m sorry about Fiona,” he begins, his voice low. “I didn’t expect her to show up like that.”I shrug, doing my best to sound unaffected. “It’s not my concern, Lyle. I’m just here for work.”The corner of his mouth twitches, as if my words sting. “I’ll handle it,” he promises.I nod curtly and stand, smoothing the fabric of my blouse. “I’m rested now. I’d like to leave and get back to work.”For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes me pause. Then he speaks again, his voice quieter this time. “Angela… there’s something I need to say. About… what happened. About the miscarriage.”The words hit me like a slap, and I freeze, my heart skipping a beat.“What?” I say, my voice sharp.Lyle’s expression is unreadable, but there’s a heaviness in his eyes I’ve never seen before. “I misunderstood you,” he says, each word del
Angela's POVLyle’s apology lingers in the air between us, thick and suffocating. His face, full of remorse, is unreadable, but I know what he’s asking for—forgiveness, a chance to undo the past, to rewrite what’s already been set in stone.I stare at him, my body tense, my mind racing with memories I wish I could erase. “You think an apology changes anything?” My voice comes out sharp, but I don’t care. “You think just because you finally feel guilty, it makes everything better?”His throat bobs as he swallows, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “Angela, I know I—”“No,” I cut him off. “You don’t know. You never knew. You were so caught up in yourself, in your own world, that you never once stopped to think about what I was going through.”His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t argue. He knows it’s true.I take a step toward him, my anger boiling to the surface, my voice trembling as years of hurt pour out. “You had something to do with it.”Lyle’s brows draw together. “What?”“Th
Lyle's POVFor the first time in years, I finally have Angela close again.Bringing her into my company through work was the most logical move—an excuse to see her, to talk to her, to make her presence in my life normal again. She might not realize it, but every small interaction, every brief glance in the hallways, every meeting where she has to sit across from me—it’s all a step toward pulling her back into my orbit.It should be enough. It should keep me grounded.It’s not.Instead of feeling in control, I feel like I’m losing my mind.Living under the same roof as Angela, knowing she’s only floors away, is nothing short of torture. I tell myself that proximity will dull the ache, that seeing her every day will make the longing fade, but it only amplifies it. The more I see her, the more I crave her.I tell myself I won’t go looking for her.Then, I do.I rise from my chair and move toward the massive floor-to-ceiling window of my office, a habit I’ve developed without realizing i
Angela's POVThe moment Lyle’s phone rang, I knew he’d leave.Lying on the disheveled bed, still catching my breath, I watched him glance at the screen and tense up. It didn’t take long—he was already sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling his clothes back on, like nothing had just happened between us.“Who is it?” I ask, though the answer is obvious.“Fiona,” he says, voice clipped. “She’s threatening to kill herself again. I need to go.”Fiona. His adopted sister… but I have to wonder if maybe she’s something more.I sit up, pulling the sheet tighter around me, trying to keep my voice steady. “Lyle, it’s my birthday.” The words feel small, like they hold no weight with him.He doesn’t even turn around, just keeps dressing, his movements sharp and efficient, as if he’s already left in his mind. “I’ll make it up to you later.”I swallow hard. I don’t know why I expect him to stay. “Call her, please, and then let’s go back to bed.”He finally looks at me, but his eyes are cold, distan
Angela's POVThe doctor’s words keep replaying in my head, like a haunting echo. Miscarried. My heart clenches painfully every time I think about it, the weight of the loss crushing me. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. How could I have lost something I didn’t even know I had?Jodelle stays by my side, her presence the only comfort in the sterile hospital room. She’s quiet, but I can see the pain in her eyes, reflecting my own. I want to speak, to ask how this happened, why this happened, but the words refuse to come. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the unbearable emptiness inside me.“I’m so sorry, Ange,” Jodelle says softly, breaking the silence. Her voice is thick with emotion. “I can’t believe Lyle wasn’t here. That scumbag.”Her words cut through my grief like a sharp knife. Lyle. He wasn’t here. He didn’t even know. The man who was supposed to care for me, who said he would always be there—he was with another woman instead.“He’s a cheating scum,” Jodelle con
Angela's POV“Think it over, Angela. Don’t do anything rash.” Lyle’s voice is calm, too calm, like he thinks I’m overreacting, throwing some childish tantrum. “Come back when you’re thinking clearly.”I’m done thinking. I feel like I’ve been seeing everything clearly for the first time. Without another word, I turn and leave, my footsteps echoing through the quiet house that’s no longer mine. I head straight to Jodelle’s, needing the support only she can give, and by the time I get there, I’m ready to move on.The next morning, I go to work early, my stomach already tight with anxiety. Years ago, I went to law school; graduated and everything, only to give it up for Lyle. Now I’m his damn secretary. I can’t keep holding on to everything that ties me to him. So, I walk straight to his office, my resignation letter in hand.Lyle glances up, his expression immediately annoyed. “Angela, stop with the tantrums. This is getting out of hand.”I keep my voice steady. “This isn’t a tantrum,
Angela's POVToday is my last day at work. Fiona is still at the hospital, and everything has become crystal clear in the following hours.After today, I’ll be free of Lyle, Fiona, and the endless mess they’ve left me tangled in. The office is quiet, my tasks completed, and a strange sense of peace settles over me as I tidy up my desk for the last time. Maybe Lyle and I won’t see each other again after this. Part of me hopes it’s true.I take one last look around the office, the place that had become my prison. Memories flash through my mind: late nights spent waiting for Lyle to finish his calls, the countless hours I sacrificed for a man who never truly valued me. Just as I’m ready to walk out, my bag slung over my shoulder, I feel a rough grip on my arm. I turn, only to see Lyle, his face set in determination. Before I can even react, he pulls me toward his car, his hand firm and unyielding as he drags me outside.My heart pounds, and I dig my heels into the ground, trying to r
Lyle's POVFor the first time in years, I finally have Angela close again.Bringing her into my company through work was the most logical move—an excuse to see her, to talk to her, to make her presence in my life normal again. She might not realize it, but every small interaction, every brief glance in the hallways, every meeting where she has to sit across from me—it’s all a step toward pulling her back into my orbit.It should be enough. It should keep me grounded.It’s not.Instead of feeling in control, I feel like I’m losing my mind.Living under the same roof as Angela, knowing she’s only floors away, is nothing short of torture. I tell myself that proximity will dull the ache, that seeing her every day will make the longing fade, but it only amplifies it. The more I see her, the more I crave her.I tell myself I won’t go looking for her.Then, I do.I rise from my chair and move toward the massive floor-to-ceiling window of my office, a habit I’ve developed without realizing i
Angela's POVLyle’s apology lingers in the air between us, thick and suffocating. His face, full of remorse, is unreadable, but I know what he’s asking for—forgiveness, a chance to undo the past, to rewrite what’s already been set in stone.I stare at him, my body tense, my mind racing with memories I wish I could erase. “You think an apology changes anything?” My voice comes out sharp, but I don’t care. “You think just because you finally feel guilty, it makes everything better?”His throat bobs as he swallows, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “Angela, I know I—”“No,” I cut him off. “You don’t know. You never knew. You were so caught up in yourself, in your own world, that you never once stopped to think about what I was going through.”His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t argue. He knows it’s true.I take a step toward him, my anger boiling to the surface, my voice trembling as years of hurt pour out. “You had something to do with it.”Lyle’s brows draw together. “What?”“Th
Angela's POVI sit up straighter on the couch, my hands folded tightly in my lap as I brace myself for whatever he’s about to say.“I’m sorry about Fiona,” he begins, his voice low. “I didn’t expect her to show up like that.”I shrug, doing my best to sound unaffected. “It’s not my concern, Lyle. I’m just here for work.”The corner of his mouth twitches, as if my words sting. “I’ll handle it,” he promises.I nod curtly and stand, smoothing the fabric of my blouse. “I’m rested now. I’d like to leave and get back to work.”For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes me pause. Then he speaks again, his voice quieter this time. “Angela… there’s something I need to say. About… what happened. About the miscarriage.”The words hit me like a slap, and I freeze, my heart skipping a beat.“What?” I say, my voice sharp.Lyle’s expression is unreadable, but there’s a heaviness in his eyes I’ve never seen before. “I misunderstood you,” he says, each word del
Lyle's POVThe weight of Angela in my arms feels both grounding and surreal, her unconscious state a constant reminder of how close I came to losing her. The scene from moments ago replays in my mind like a haunting loop—Fiona’s wild eyes, her unrestrained fury, and the way Angela stumbled back against the wall, cornered and vulnerable.For the first time in years, I felt something foreign and overwhelming: panic.I’ve faced high-stakes negotiations, volatile boardroom power plays, even moments when the future of my company teetered on the edge. None of that compares to the sheer terror that gripped me as Fiona lunged toward Angela. The thought of her being hurt—of her slipping away—was unbearable.I glance down at her pale face, her lashes resting delicately against her cheeks. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. It strikes me just how fragile she looks, yet I know she’s anything but. Angela has always been strong—stronger than I ever gave her credit for.The moment I saw her her
Angela's POVFiona’s lunge is so sudden, so full of raw fury, that it takes me a moment to process what’s happening. My instincts kick in too late, and I stumble back, only to feel the unyielding surface of the wall against my shoulders. There’s nowhere to go, and for a heartbeat, I’m frozen.“Fiona, stop!” Lyle’s sharp voice cuts through the chaos, but it doesn’t slow her down.Before she can reach me, Lyle moves like a force of nature, placing himself between us. His broad frame blocks her path completely, and I’m left staring at the back of his suit, my heart pounding in my chest.“Enough!” he snaps, his voice filled with authority.Fiona barely registers his words, her rage blinding her as she struggles against the security guards who step in and grab her arms. She twists and writhes in their grasp, her cries echoing through the room.“Let me go!” she shrieks, her voice wild and frantic. Her carefully composed facade has completely shattered, replaced by something raw and unhinge
Angela's POVThe air feels heavy, as though the room itself is holding its breath. Lyle’s sharp gaze moves between me and Fiona, and I brace myself for what’s coming.He’s going to blame me. He always blames me. The thought lodges in my chest, making it hard to breathe.I start to speak, desperate to defend myself before he draws his own conclusions. “Lyle, I didn’t—”He moves, cutting me off—not toward Fiona, but toward me. His expression is unreadable, and my stomach churns as I try to decipher it.“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice steady but laced with concern.For a moment, I’m too stunned to respond. I search his face for a hint of sarcasm, some edge that suggests this is a trick, but all I see is sincerity.“What?” I manage to say, blinking up at him.“Are you okay?” he repeats, his brow furrowing slightly. His gaze is fixed on mine, and I realize he’s genuinely asking. The knot in my chest loosens slightly, but confusion replaces it.“I—yes,” I reply cautiously, the word hesit
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.