General POVIt was an intense afternoon at the old Howard mansion, as all of the family members were present and sat around the long, oak table in the large dining room space.It was the first meeting since Michael had been discharged from the hospital, and the tension in the room was so thick it rubbed on every one of them.Grandfather had called the meeting, and inwardly, Michael was certain that it was definitely prompted by his last outing with Lilian.She must have told her parents, who in turn must have informed Grandpa about their shared interest in remaining just friends.The atmosphere in the room and the look on everyone’s face since Michael entered made it clear that all hell was about to break loose. But Michael was prepared; his mind had been made up.They all sat in silence, each wrapped in their own thoughts.Richard and Florence, Michael’s parents, sat to his right, their faces tense, eyes darting between him and the head of the table.Grandmother was next to Grandpa;
ISABELLA'S POVThe sound of the cab driver’s engine quieted as he brought the Hyundai to a halt in front of the store.At the backseat where we sat, Scarlett sighed beside me, still weary from the exhausting battle with traffic we endured before we got here."I swear, one more red light, and I would've lost it," she leaned towards me to mutter.I let out a short laugh, draping my handbag over my shoulder before I playfully whispered,“I might have paid to see that.” She slapped me on the shoulder, laughing as well.After that, we stepped out of the car almost simultaneously. Scarlett closed the door with a soft click, and I could see her scanning the surroundings briefly before her gaze finally settled on the driver.“How much do we owe you?” She asked, her tone casual but commanding.The driver named his price, and then Scarlett handed over the cash without hesitation. “You don’t have to wait. We won’t need you anymore.” She added with a dismissive wave, her voice firm but polite
ISABELLA'S POVThe answer to that question came sooner than I expected. Naomi, who was obviously still smarting from humiliation, couldn’t let it go, apparently. She began shouting at me from across the parking lot, her voice vile and wounded.“You might have that little storekeeper under tethers, but not my son, okay. Do you think this is anything close to the real fight? Wait and see how it turns out.Don’t think for a second that you’ll raise my son’s child. We’ll see to it that your little game ends, Docktorr.” She mocked, her words dripping with malice. Celine joined in, her tone equally threatening.“Your’re shameless. You lied your way into my brother's life; now you want to take away his child? Look, my brother’s child won’t be raised by another man. You’ll regret ever crossing us.”I was silent; I felt my pulse quicken, the familiar rush of anxiety creeping in.But before I could open my mouth, Scarlett stepped forward, her eyes blazing with fury.“Enough!” she shouted, he
NATHAN’s POVIt was break-fast time at our family house.I took a seat at the table, surrounded instantly by the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the savory scent of bacon.Breakfast was so much more fun to me now than it had been during those lonely mornings back in New Zealand.Those days when I would sit alone, staring at an empty chair and longing for the warmth of family.I couldn't help but smile at the sight of Maddie moving gracefully around the table, serving scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit with her usual quiet efficiency.Across from me, Isabella stirred her tea absentmindedly, her eyes distant. Dad sat at the head of the table, flipping through the morning newspaper. On his right and left sides were Mom and Owen, respectively, setting their plate covers apart.After a few seconds, I started to feel Dad’s attention shifting to me as he lowered the paper, setting it beside his plate.“I was meaning to ask, son, how’s the government contract coming along?”
NATHAN'S POV Steering my car away from the government complex, I let out a long, deep breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The contract was out of my hands now, and all I could do was wait. The thought of the Xander guy I just saw back there still lingered for a second. I wondered if I should call dad to inform him, but I soon pushed it aside and pulled a nonchalant shrug. There were much more pressing concerns on my plate, and given how much Harrington Corporation had expanded, Xander was nothing more than a relic of a bygone era. One of such concerns on my plate now was meeting up with Owen at his company headquarters. The facility was nestled in one of the most isolated, calm areas of New York City, a haven for young genius startup companies in the tech and internet sectors, and that was Brooklyn. It had become a hub for these types of enterprises, filled with sleek, modern buildings that stood as monuments to innovation. When I arrived, I parked in front of Owen’s b
ISABELLA'S POV It was yet another busy morning, I got out of my car and walked into the hospital with the casual ease of someone who had done it countless times. Once I got through the main entrance, the antiseptic smell that lingered in the air was followed by the soft hum of machines in the distance. The quiet urgency in everyone’s steps, going in and out comforted me. It was like walking into a familiar dance hall, where I knew all the moves. I made my way toward one of the wards, nodding briefly at an emerging nurse. The small room opened with a gentle hiss, and I stepped inside, my attitude switching at once. The first patient I had come to check up on looked up eagerly as I entered, a tired but grateful smile on her face. Her graying hair framed a face that had seen too much pain, but when she saw me, there was a glow of hope in her eyes. "Good morning, Mrs. Lawson," I said, my voice carrying the warmth I especially for my patients. "How are you feeling today?"
ISABELLA'S POVI continued to stare at the screen, my eyes straining to comprehend the blankness.I was actually supposed to be happy about this news. After all, just a week ago, I was wishing for exactly the same result.But a lot had changed since then, and right now, all I could ask was how? how could I be happy now? How could I go back to my family and tell them that the baby they were already celebrating wasn't real? And what about James? And his opportunist family members who were already making plans, speaking about the future as if it was set in stone. And most importantly, what about me?I didn’t just think I was pregnant. I felt it. The symptoms were there, undeniable, and I could still touch the small protrusion of what I believed was the life growing inside me. This had to be some mistake. Something wasn’t adding up.Doctor Shaw sighed softly, a sound that seemed to come from a place of understanding. She stepped closer, her initial anxiety, and seemed to dissolve.
JAMES’S POVIt was close to evening, and my desk was full of unfinished work.Yet there was a lightness in my chest that made all of this insignificant. I never liked night shifts, and on such days, I was always scowling, but today was different. I had just hung up the phone, still feeling the new warmth of Isabella's voice echoing in my ears. She had finally agreed to meet up so we could talk about our child, and who knows, there was also a chance for us to reconcile. The thought of becoming a family again made my heart thump in expectation.I mean, what was a child's life without a strong, doting father hanging around?Just as I was still relishing the joy of this recent victory, the door to my office was flung open with a force that made me jolt forward on my chair.I looked up quickly, eyes wide with alarm, only to see Zoey standing there, her face twisted with anger. "What the hell?" I muttered, still trying to process the display.“Hey, what was all that for?”Zoey didn'
ISABELLA'S POVA year had passed since our wedding ceremony, and as expected, so much had changed. And this change began from where we had chosen to start a family.A towering off white mansion.It was everything we had dreamed of as a couple: It really made the experience feel like what it was called—exactly settling down.Think about the spaciousness; think about meaningful layout. It was just perfect.However, our new home was one out of many of the positive developments. My career as the “Phantom Medic” had soared in ways I hadn’t thought possible. Over the past year, I could no longer count the number of lives, performing surgeries that others deemed initially impossible had saved.My renown had grown by twice, not just as a surgeon but as an advocate. Remember the foundation I had fought so hard to establish? It had also grown to become a beacon for research into rare diseases, and that had been a deeply personal mission born out of my own health struggles... my near-death
ISABELLA'S POVThree weeks had passed, and it felt like a lifetime since everything had come together so perfectly. I was standing at the entrance of the outdoor venue of Augustine's parish, it was the same church my maternal grandfather currently attended.The garden was so, so breathtaking.The large hall adjacent to the garden was filled up with family, friends and well wishers.The groom boy, Michael, my grandparents, cheerful as always, was sitting proudly among executives from his family's company. His own family mingled with the guests, their smiles radiating pride. My parents, always a picture of grace, were seated in the front row. My dad, Elliot Harrington, was wearing a navy blue suit that complimented his tall frame, while my mother looked radiant in an elegant gown. Owen and Nathan, my loving brothers, sat beside them. Owen, always the typical charmer that he was, wore a fitted burgundy suit.While Nathan opted for a classic black tuxedo, looking more reserved than
MICHAEL’S POVMy grandparent’s large living room felt like a theater of looming judgment this afternoon.Every seat was occupied, and none of us was sitting with ease. It was like we all had fire under our buttocks.At the head of the room, Grandpa Howard sat, his large frame rigid in his high-backed chair, his normal face was a mask of barely contained rage, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. He gripped the armrests, staring at Elsa, who, as usual, was sitting in the far corner of the room; this time, she was avoiding his gaze like it would burn her alive.Her posture was stiff, hands clenched tightly in her lap, her eyes moving about in every direction but Grandpa’s.I found myself also mirroring Grandpa’s expression, the same fire in my own eyes.I could feel my parents sitting on either side of me, their faces drawn tight with disgust, eyes locked on Elsa.My mother’s lips were twisted, and my father’s fingers twitched as though ready to lash out at any moment. The only person who wasn
ISABELLA’S POVI was sitting on my couch that afternoon, my TV tuned on some spaces away. The live broadcast had been on for nearly an hour, but my focus hadn’t wavered. There on the screen was Michael, seated among the press, his expression calm but resolute, just as we had rehearsed together the night before. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, and his eyes were sharp. Michael sat in the center of the long table, surrounded by journalists whose pens moved rapidly across their notepads, eager to catch every word.His posture was upright, shoulders squared, but I could of course feel the tension he bore.I leaned forward on the couch as Michael began speaking, his voice strong and unwavering despite the gravity of what he was about to expose."After months of working with Robert Carlisle, I’ve uncovered disturbing truths." Michael began, his voice steady but his eyes darkening with emotion."I discovered that he’s been altering the properties of our product to make it more addict
GENERAL POVOwen stood in front of the full-length mirror, tightening his tie with slow, deliberate movements. His reflection stared back.He brushed a few wrinkles from his collar, muttering under his breath, ticking off the list of meetings and cover-ups waiting for him at the office. After some time of thinking about the office and where he had to be, the same old thoughts crept back, uninvited and heavy.The same old sense of discomfort he had tried to bury for days now…his tangled feelings for Claire.Came yet again.However, his thought pattern was a little different this time.For reasons he couldn't explain, the scene from that fateful night replayed in his head.He had gone to meet her, intent on laying everything out his feelings, urge to speak his mind only to find her in the VIP section, lips locked with another man. Owen had frozen, his eyes startled and alarmed.But thinking about it now, what had haunted him more than the betrayal was actually her reaction. Claire ha
ISABELLA'S POVI sat at the edge of my couch, my mind a storm of thoughts.It's been three days. Three days since I’d stormed out of Scarlett’s place, a trip of reconciliation that had quickly developed into something else I didn't bargain for.Now, it was followed by her trying to reach out to me, forwarding. desperate and pleading in the text messages...I had ignored them all, as if refusing to acknowledge them would make the gnawing suspicion less real.My gaze drifted out of the window. Inside me, there was only a deepening gloom. The things I had seen that day, the contracts with Xander, strange inconsistencies in Scarlett’s defense—it had all begun to fester like an open wound.No, something isn’t right. The words escaped my lips in a low murmur, barely audible.I needed answers. And I needed them now. I picked up my phone, quickly dialing Claire’s number and agitation in my veins.“Good morning, Dr. Isabella,” Claire’s voice greeted me, bright and efficient as always.“Morn
MICHAEL’S POV The moment I stepped into the club,music hit me, vibrating floors dim lights, charged atmosphere…name it. I paused just inside the entrance, scanning the room casually, my eyes adjusting to the low lighting as I searched for Owen. We had agreed to meet here. The club was one of those exclusive spots, packed with people who knew they were being watched but pretended otherwise. As I looked around, I saw a few groups clustered in private booths, laughter merged with the hum of conversation, while some others wriggled their tiny waists on the dance floor. Taking a breath, I made my way in, walking slowly and moving through the crowd, my hands brushing past people’s shoulders. Owen would be waiting in the VIP section, and I needed not to rush to get there. However, the urgency of what brought me drove me. The VIP area was cordoned off by a velvet rope, guarded by a bouncer who gave me a curt nod of recognition before unhooking the rope. I slipped past without a
ISABELLA'S POVNathan had shared with me how Scarlett had been visiting him of late, lingering too long at his door, just enough to stir old wounds. And even reaching out to the estate security personnel whenever he wasn't around. At least it showed a level of desperation on her part. And that was why I was on my way there today.Despite the hurt, part of me hoped we could still talk this out. Even though restoring her back into his life wouldn't be all that possible.But we could still arrive at something that works. Just like James and I had done.After all, we had been friends for years. All I wanted was a hint of remorse from her, an acknowledgment of the line she had crossed.As I parked in front of the gallery, the emptiness of the space mirrored the hollow feeling in my chest. The lights were off, the windows dark, and not a soul in sight. I stood for a moment, staring at the locked door, a quiet sigh escaping my lips. So, she wasn’t here. And perhaps indoors or something
GENERAL POVOwen pushed the door to his apartment and entered.He shut the door softly behind him, pausing for a second, as though leaving the world outside was not quite enough.He moved with slow, deliberate steps, crossing the room with a weariness that had become second nature to him over the past few days.His face was hard to read; his brows were slightly drawn, lost in thought.When Owen reached his bedroom, he stopped at the center of the room, standing there as though uncertain of what to do next.His eyes were scanning the space, landing on nothing in particular, and for a long moment, he didn’t move.The room felt too big, too empty. It swallowed him whole.With a heavy sigh, his hand reached up to undo the buttons of his shirt, one by one, slowly. The fabric fell away from his body, and he carelessly tossed it onto the bed. He stood shirtless and then made to sit down on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely as his head hung low.For day