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
Bill’s POVThe elevator ride to our suite feels longer than usual, but I’m not complaining. Serena leans into me, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along the back of my hand. Her engagement ring catches the soft glow of the elevator lights, and I can’t help but smile. I don’t know how I got lucky en
Serena’s POVThe kitchen table is a disaster zone. Wedding magazines are piled high, ready to topple over at the slightest nudge. Fabric swatches are scattered everywhere like pastel confetti, and sticky notes are plastered all over, each one screaming something I still need to deal with. My laptop
Stevie’s POVThis has to be the fanciest kidnapping in the history of bad ideas.I’m standing in the foyer of Calvin’s penthouse, staring at the polished marble floors, the towering windows, and a chandelier that looks like it could fund a small country. Everything about this place screams luxury—to
Calvin’s POVHospitals always feel the same—like time slows down, stretching every second into an eternity. I’m standing outside Stevie’s room, staring at the door, willing myself to move. My hand hovers near the handle, but I can’t bring myself to push it open.I can hear her voice faintly through
Serena’s POV“Stevie, stay with me,” I mutter, my voice shaking as I keep one arm wrapped around her shoulders. Her weight sags against me, and I feel the panic rising in my chest.“I’m fine,” she whispers weakly, but her pale face and unfocused eyes say otherwise.“You’re not fine,” I snap, flaggin
Serena’s POVThe office feels quieter than usual. Maybe it’s the late hour or the fact that most people have already gone home. But as I glance across the room at Stevie, hunched over her laptop, I know something’s off.She’s always had a way of pushing through, of pretending everything’s fine when
Calvin’s POVFatherhood.The word keeps bouncing around my head, refusing to settle. It feels foreign, heavy. Like trying on a jacket that doesn’t fit but knowing you’re stuck wearing it anyway.I stare out the window of my office, watching the city buzz below. Cars honk. People hustle. Life moves o
Stevie’s POVI’m pacing my living room, muttering to myself like a lunatic.“Calvin, listen—no, that’s too polite.” I stop and shake my head, trying again. “Look, Calvin, I don’t owe you an explanation. That’s better. Straight to the point. No room for debate.”I glance at the mirror above my couch
Calvin’s POVI see her before she sees me.Stevie’s stepping out of the building, her bag slung over her shoulder, sunglasses perched on her nose. She looks like she’s trying to blend into the crowd, which is almost funny considering Stevie Malone doesn’t exactly do subtle.“Stevie,” I call, walking
Serena’s POVI spot Stevie slipping out of the ballroom as I’m finishing up a conversation with a PR exec. She moves quickly, almost like she’s trying not to be seen, but I know her too well. The slight wobble in her steps, the way she clutches her bag like it’s holding her together — it’s a dead gi
Stevie’s POVI shouldn’t have worn these heels.It’s the first thing I think as I step into the ballroom, my feet already protesting the dumb idea of combining sky-high stilettos and a body that feels like it’s actively rebelling against me. My stomach’s been on the verge of staging a full-blown mut