ISABELLA'S POV“Are we even still friends anymore?”My voice was like an arrow, so unexpected yet so piercing, not just to her but to me; my breath trembled in my throat.For a second, she couldn't respond. She wasn’t prepared for me to say that.Her eyes widened briefly before narrowing, her lips parting as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. Her fingers twitched at her sides, her shoulders stiffening, almost like she was bracing herself for the impact of something hard.I took a step closer, swallowing hard as I held her gaze with mine.She could feel the judgment in my eyes—the hurt that had been growing for months, finally breaking free. “Like... Did you even know I was sick, Scarlett? Or were you too busy with your so-called actor boyfriend?” I asked.“Talk to me!” I shouted.Scarlett inhaled sharply, her hands flying to her waist. Then she let out a scoff."Come off it, Bella; I knew that bitch Lilian would tell you that." She spat, shaking her head."That gi
JAME'S POVThe glass of Macallan Rare Cask in front of me remained untouched.The club lighting was a little too dim—as usual, not enough to tell the actual color of what I was drinking.I looked around casually. I had lost track of how long I have been sitting here, waiting for just one person... Gregory.A quick glance at my watch reminded me... It was about forty-five minutes since I arrived here.The noise around me was deafening, laughter and conversations blending into a single vibrant hum.I pulled out my phone despite doubting that it would help.The first call didn’t go through.I cursed under my breath and tried again. Nothing.The third attempt met the same fate, and frustration began to knot in my chest, tightening with every passing second. I rubbed a hand down my face, clenching my jaw. What the hell was going on? Why would Gregory decide to be unreachable now of all times, especially at such a crucial hour of the day? I know what I had to abandon to be here myself.O
THIRD POVDr. Robert Langston stood before the full-length mirror in his room, meticulously adjusting the knot of his tie.He straightened his suit jacket, fingers brushing over the half-grey hair at his temples as a satisfied smile showed on his face.His reflection stared back at him, sharp and confident, embodying everything he had worked toward.His plan was finally coming together far more smoothly than he had anticipated.He let out a soft chuckle, remembering the exact moment when James had fallen for his proposal last night.It had been effortless, like a house of cards collapsing with the lightest touch. "Executive board member indeed," he muttered under his breath, his lips twisting into a devious mocking grin. But in all honesty, who wouldn't have taken the bait? It was a perfect offer, tailored to perfection, and James, from his history as an opportunist, had lived up to expectation.With a nod of satisfaction, Robert swiped at an invisible stain on his jacket, his moveme
MICHEAL'S POVThe large, luxurious hall was just the perfect one of this grand moment I have been planning.Rows of chairs were perfectly arranged around beautifully adorned tables.Centerpieces gleamed under the soft lights above.Already, a number of guests had taken their seats, dressed in their finest attire, chatting amongst themselves, laughter bubbling through the hall like faint echoes.At one corner of the hall, I was standing with my hands on my waist, taking in the view.The space was enormous, far bigger than I had imagined when planning this. A few guests were already seated, chatting softly, their I spotted familiar faces in the crowd.my grandfather, with his dyed hair, sitting stoically in his favorite navy suit, and beside him.I also picked out my mother, wearing an elegant black dress matching the pearl necklace she always wore for big events like this. Across the room, Nathan and Owen leaned in towards each other, deep in conversation.Nathan, ever the gentleman,
JAMES POVI was lying slumped on the central chair in my office; exhaustion was making my bones feel like soaked foam.My breath was shallow, a reminder of the six hours that I just spent in the operating room.One thing about complicated surgeries like the one I just saw through was that same-old feeling of weariness that would settle on top of you hours after it was over. It was like paralysis.Indeed, today had been a tough one. It was actually an arterial graft surgery I handled.And in the few times I have done it, I have always managed to pull through, yet something about it always gnawed at me.I sometimes hate these surgeries, to be honest.Not because of the technical complexity, but because of what they represented as human fragility.And the bluntness of physical rigor.Nevertheless, the successes always made it worth it.I stared vacantly into space, my mind replaying the delicate moments of the procedure all over again.Then, with a heavy sigh, I leaned back further, st
JAMES POVI readjusted as I waited with bated breath, each ring feeling much longer than it ordinarily was.The last echo faded before Dr. Langston’s familiar voice finally broke through.“James.”The older man’s tone was light, almost mocking, as though he knew I was going to call back sooner than expected after dragging my feet the last time. I inhaled deeply, the action more ceremonial than needed; I was already decided... My mind was so made up.“I’m ready,”I said, my voice unwavering, mirroring the resolve I felt within.A small pause followed, just long enough for me to wonder if he was still there.But Dr. Langston’s voice came soon enough, still sounding slightly amused but also slightly skeptical.“Are you sure about this?”My jaw tightened, but I stayed firm. “Lets just go on, sir.” I blurted, the impatience in my voice umistakable, so great that it triggered laughter from the doctor. His chuckle from the other end was faint and fleeting, then it stopped to give way to
ISABELLA'S POVI was in my sitting room, legs stretched out comfortably, head resting against the cushion.The armrest held my phone, and everything felt calm, at least for the moment. But then I heard the soft vibration of my phone. My gaze dropped casually, my head barely moving, expecting another notification or a meaningless message.But the tiny icon that caught my eye wasn’t a call or text; instead, it was a barrage of notifications from my social media app.The casualness in my posture disappeared, and I sat up sharply, my hand darting for the phone.I unlocked it quickly, as I wondered what could be behind such a sudden surge of activity.My fingers moved almost automatically, logging me into the app.And then, with an automatic quickness, my face tightened with confusion as I saw the unbelievable number... over a thousand mentions of my username on the app.I clicked on one of the notifications, my heart rate quickening.It didn’t take long before the cold, paralyzing shock
GENERAL POVThe room was suffocating in its silence. Owen's expression shifted as his gaze remained locked on Isabella, who sat hunched, her fingers twisted together on her lap, barely holding back the tears pooling in her eyes.The longer he stared, the harder his face became—a rage in his eyes.His eyes moved to Claire, who stood several paces away, rigid and uneasy, her arms tightly folded as if to protect herself from something.Owen’s voice cut through the oppressive quiet like a blade. "Did you say let it die down?" His words were sharp, almost incredulous, as he spoke, his eyebrows drawing together in disbelief.Isabella flinched at the sound of his voice, her shoulders tensing. like a child being scolded."What do you mean, let it die down?" His voice escalated, each word sharper than the last, and the sudden rise in volume made Isabella shrink further into herself. She couldn’t face him, not like this.Owem, sensing the crack in the moment, now spoke a little bit gently, a
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