Stevie’s POVI’m sitting on the edge of my bathtub, staring at a little stick on the counter like it’s a grenade about to go off. My hands are shaking. My heart feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest.It’s been three minutes.Three. Long. Fucking. Minutes.The instructions said that’
Bill’s POVSerena’s doing that thing again.The thing where she picks at her food but doesn’t actually eat it. She pushes the salad around her plate, stabbing a cherry tomato like it insulted her mother. I lean back in my chair, watching her, trying to figure out if this is work stress or something
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
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
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
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 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
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
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