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
Serena’s POVThe morning is cool, and the light spilling through the trees casts a golden hue on everything. We’re sitting at this small café by the canal, the kind of place that’s almost too picturesque to believe — flower pots on the tables, cobblestones underfoot, and the faint sound of water lap
Serena’s POVBy the time we return to the hotel, Collin is completely worn out. I tuck him into his crib, brushing his hair back as he mumbles sleepily. His tiny chest rises and falls, his face relaxed in a way that only toddlers can manage.When I step out of the room, Bill is waiting for me, a mis
Stevie’s POVElijah is babbling to himself in the living room, gripping one of his stuffed animals by the ear and smacking it against the floor like it personally offended him. His little feet kick excitedly as he sits on his play mat, lost in his own world.I smile, stirring the pasta on the stove
Bill’s POVSterling’s estate looms in the distance, a glass-and-steel fortress perched high in the hills, isolated from the rest of the world. The long driveway leading up to it is lined with evenly spaced trees, so perfectly maintained they don’t look real. There’s something eerie about the silence
Bill’s POVThe club is dark, expensive, and filled with the kind of people who think power is the only currency that matters.I step inside, letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. Everything here is designed to make people feel important—the low hum of conversation, the perfectly aged whiskey,
Serena’s POVI stare at the numbers on my screen, scanning the latest financial reports for Étoile de Collin while trying to ignore the exhaustion creeping in. My eyes blur slightly, but I shake it off and keep going. Every detail needs to be right. Every move has to be airtight. We’re too close now
Calvin’s POVI stand at the top of Titan’s headquarters, my hands resting on the cool glass railing as I look out over the city. The view from here stretches for miles—downtown skyscrapers gleaming in the fading sunlight, the freeway below packed with crawling traffic, the distant haze of the ocean
Serena’s POVCollin’s laughter echoes through the backyard, loud and full, the way only a kid’s laugh can be. It cuts through the evening air, blending with the soft rustling of trees and the occasional gurgle from one of the twins.I take a sip of tea, letting the warmth settle in my chest as I lea
Bill’s POVI throw a punch at the heavy bag, ignoring the sharp pain that shoots through my ribs. My knuckles connect with a solid thud, but it’s not satisfying. Not enough. The ache spreading through my side is a reminder that I should be resting.But I don’t care.I shift my stance and hit the bag
Stevie’s POVI spot Calvin before he sees me.He’s sitting in a booth near the back, leaning against the leather seat with one hand wrapped around a whiskey glass. His sleeves are rolled up, his tie is slightly loosened, and his phone is face-down on the table. He looks… tired, but in a way that’s d
Calvin’s POVI stand at the head of the table, both hands resting on the smooth glass, my fingers pressing into the surface just enough to keep me grounded. Across from me, a dozen board members sit in their usual seats, but the energy in the room is off.Some of them shift slightly, their eyes dart