Serena’s POVKevin raises the knife, and my breath catches. For a split second, time seems to slow, the glint of the blade catching the faint light like a silent threat. Before I can react, Bill charges in from the side, slamming into Kevin with the full force of his body. They hit the ground hard,
Serena’s POVKevin strides toward me, his expression dark and twisted. I don’t move. I plant my feet, keeping my stance steady, just like Bill taught me. My heart races, but my mind is sharp, clear. I’m not afraid — not anymore.He lunges, fast and aggressive, the blade in his hand aiming straight f
Bill’s POVThe flashing red and blue lights from the police cars paint everything in sharp. Kevin’s hunched figure disappears into the back of a cruiser, his hands cuffed tightly behind his back. But even as he’s being taken away, he still manages to twist the knife with his parting words.“This isn
Serena’s POVThe courtroom feels like it’s holding its breath. Kevin sits across the room, calm and collected, as if he isn’t facing the weight of his crimes being read aloud. Arson. Money laundering. Drug trafficking. Arms dealing. Conspiracy. Each charge is like a hammer falling, but Kevin doesn’t
Serena’s POVEvan Carter steps up to the stand, his posture rigid but his face set with a kind of quiet determination. He’s nervous — I can see it in the way his hands grip the edges of the chair, his knuckles white — but he doesn’t hesitate when the prosecutor starts her questioning.“Mr. Carter,”
Bill’s POVThe second day of the trial feels heavier than the first. I sit at the stand, every eye in the courtroom on me. Kevin sits across the room, leaning back in his chair, his face as blank as ever. But I’ve known him long enough to spot the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tap rh
Bill’s POVThe room is silent as the jury files in, their expressions solemn. I sit straight, keeping my focus on them, my heart pounding despite the steady mask I’ve worn all day. Beside me, Serena sits just as tense, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. I glance at her briefly, giving her a small
Serena’s POVMariah Johnson sits across from me, her eyes wide with admiration as she flips through her notes. The studio for Luxe Perspectives is bright and modern, the kind of place where creativity feels like it’s floating in the air. The interview has gone on for over an hour, but Mariah’s energ
Calvin’s POVThe Lancaster estate feels colder than usual today, and it’s not because of the weather. The vaulted ceilings and polished marble floors echo with the tension that always seems to fill the air when the family gathers.This isn’t a casual dinner or a holiday reunion. It’s a “concerned di
Stevie‘s POV“Calvin, I can’t just say yes.”The words tumble out before I can stop them, hanging in the air between us. His eyes, which had been so hopeful, cloud over with something I can’t quite place—disappointment, maybe, or worry.We’re sitting in my apartment, the baby gear shoved into the co
Stevie‘s POVThe lens feels foreign in my hands at first, like it’s judging me for neglecting it for so long. I twist the focus ring back and forth, snapping shots of random things in my apartment: the pile of laundry I still haven’t done, the chipped paint on the windowsill, the vase of wilted dais
Serena‘s POVI can’t focus. Not on the new campaign proposals sitting in front of me, not on the email from our partners in Paris, and definitely not on the cup of tea I made an hour ago that’s gone cold on my desk.All I can think about is Stevie.Her face, flushed with anger, tears glistening in h
Calvin‘s POVThe buzz of my phone pulls me out of my focus, its vibration rattling against the glass surface of my desk. It’s another alert, no doubt tied to the leak at Etoile de Collin. The headlines have been relentless: “Scandal Rocks Global Launch,” “Is Etoile de Collin Losing Its Shine?”I don
Stevie‘s POVThe click of my camera is the only sound in my apartment. The blinds are half-drawn, letting in just enough light to paint soft streaks across the floor. I’ve spent the last hour taking photos of mundane things — a chipped coffee mug, the shadow of my old ficus, the crumpled blanket I t
Calvin’s POVThe call comes in just as I’m reviewing a financial report in my office. It’s Serena, and I can tell immediately from her clipped tone that something’s off.“Calvin, we have a situation,” she says, not bothering with pleasantries.I lean back in my chair, setting the report aside. “What
Serena’s POVI tap my pen against the edge of the conference table, staring at the open file in front of me. My head’s buzzing, not from caffeine—I haven’t had nearly enough of that today—but from the words staring back at me in black and white.“Are you sure about this?” I ask Grace, my PR director
Calvin’s POVI’ve been staring at her address on my phone for ten minutes, trying to work up the courage to get out of the car. It’s ridiculous. I’ve faced down corporate takeovers and boardroom ambushes without flinching, but this? This feels harder.Stevie’s apartment building looms in front of me