Alexander’s POV
I sit in my office, my gaze fixed through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows, beyond which the cityscape stretched out in a mosaic of bustling life.
It gnawed on me, a memory of my upbringing which I think is affecting my relationship with Isabel.
While growing up, I had always seen my mum, Sabrina, command my father, Williams, to do anything she wanted, because she was making more money than him. And I had thought that’s the norm.
Having more money than your partner in marriage means you call the shot.
You’re in control of whatever goes on or happens in your home.
Why would Isabel think I love her less simply because I commented on her dress?
I worked hard proving to my mother that I’m capable of running the company, making lots of money, so I won’t have to be like my dad when married.
Gosh!
I pace my office, running my hands through my hair.
I hate it when Isabel gives me those looks, with her shimmering silver gray eyes, which send down a cold shiver down my spine.
“Alexander the meeting is about to start,” Susan, my assistant said, jotting me out of my thoughts.
Susan has always got my back.
“Okay will be there in a jiffy.” I replied.
The meeting seems to not be ending as I keep having flashbacks from what happened in the day.
The look in Isabel’s eyes when she asked me that question.
“Alexander, what’s your say about the proposal?” Susan asked bringing my mind back to the meeting.
“Uh, yes… sure,” I mumbled, with a distant look in my eyes. My words came out slowly as if I was waking up from a dream. It was clear to everyone that my mind had been elsewhere, lost in a world only I could see. .
At this moment, my phone buzzes with a text.
Message from a restricted number, “Do you know where your wife is, and who she’s currently with?”
I glared intrusively, as if trying to process the text I just got.
Who the hell is this?
My jaw dropped.
I stilled for a moment,my phone almost slipping from my trembling hand. My mind became a chaotic storm of disbelief and denial, struggling to comprehend the barrage of messages.
Paralyzed by the onslaught of emotions, I scroll through photos sent to my phone.
The pictures show how happy she is, her smile widened like the first time we went on a date. She seems so happy like I have seen her in the past months.
Looking at the photos, one will think that they got themselves a room already. “Wait what! What if that’s what’s going to happen? Or has it already happened?” I thought to myself giving off an annoying facial expression.
“No that can’t be, Isabel isn’t like that”, I reply myself with a comforting hand clinch.
But recently she’s been giving a ‘I’m already tired of us’ vibe. What if she has decided to really give up and be with another guy? Another thought came in, making me clench my fingers tightly between my palm.
I tried zooming, but was unable to see the guy’s face.
Ranging, as cold sweats trickled down my forehead, blurring my vision and making the familiar surrounding seem distant and surreal.
“Alexander, are you okay?” Susan asked, her voice etched with concern.
“I’m okay,” I lied, but my expression gave me away.
“You're all sweaty and nervous. Now, that’s not okay,”
Truth be told, I feel hot, even though the board room is as cold as ice.
I noticed all eyes were on me. It's obvious how much my mood changed, like a flip.
I stared at them blankly.
But quickly l recovered.
“Let’s call it a day,” I said, dropping the project folder on the table. “I’ll be leaving the office on time today.
If anything comes up in my absence, email them to me.” I say looking directly at Susan.
Directly asking her for help, so things don’t look more weird than it already is.
She nods, a clear hint of understanding flickers in her eyes.
“Oh yes… sure Alexander,” Susan replied.
I excused myself from the boardroom trying to really understand the context of the text and the photo, even though I’m unable to know who sent the message.
******************
It’s 10PM and Isabel isn’t home yet.
I have dialed her number several times, and she’s not responding.
What could she be doing by this time, so late at night?
Could she be really…. No no, I said to myself, clenching my teeth together.
I’m thinking this too much.
She’s probably with her friend and nothing more. I say, trying to keep my thoughts in order.
She’s never been this late home, ever since we got married. Even if she’s out with her friend, Cynthia.
Oh yes! Cyn..thia!
I mumbled.
I should call Cynthia’s home to find out.
Her friend, Cynthia Castillo is the daughter of a rich billionaire business mogul and her father, a close family friend to us too.
I can definitely call up their house landline to talk with anyone at home.
Just when I was about to dial the Castillo’s mansion, my phone buzzed with texts.
Surprise as it is also from the same restricted number I received earlier in the day.
I hurriedly Opened to see the messages.
My jaw dropped.
Photos of Isabel and a guy in bed.
I squint my eyes, looking down to the barrage of photos sent to me.
My jaw tightened to the point of aching, a deep furrow forming between his brows.
The guy in his mid thirties, with a broad chest.
Isabel deep in sleep and her head layed on his bare chest.
I clenched my fist.
My brows slightly furrowed, as if deep in contemplation..
I can’t believe Isabel slept out with another man on the night before our anniversary.
I have thought about trying my best to work on my habits, because I still love Isabel and want to save our marriage.
But I guess it’s not the same with my wife, Isabel.
My eyes welling with tears.
Memories of our once happy home flickers through my mind.
Now the home isn't the same anymore.
A mix of fury and betrayal surged through me.
I had drafted out divorce papers as I was sick of her constant complaints. Thinking maybe she’s also tired of our marriage, but didn’t have the balls to serve it to Isabel yet.
But after seeing the explicit nature of these photos, my decision of trying to change and save our marriage is changed. Gosh! I can’t believe I almost thought our marriage could work.
I growl, shrugging into the couch.
If Isabel doesn’t want me anymore, then there’s no point trying to keep what’s already broken.
It’s time to end this chapter of my life.
I’m going to divorce Isabel. I say with a tight fist.
Isabel’s POVmy eyes opened to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the room curtains.The unfamiliar ceiling of the room came into focus.Where am I? I asked myself, feeling a slight ache.I groaned softly, pressing a hand on my temple as I tried to piece together the fragments of last night. I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to remember how I got here.What happened? I thought to myself, anxiety bubbling as I pushed myself to sit up.I scanned the room, searching for any clues that might jog my memory, but everything looked untouched, pristine, almost sterile.The mirror across the room caught my eye.Slowly, I stood, wrapping a sheet around me as I walked over.My reflection looking back at me- disheveled hair, makeup smudged.My eyes wide with confusion and fear.I noticed a faint bruise on my shoulder, but there’s no pain, just the unsettling sense of not knowing how it got there.I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.I need to figure this out, to make sense
Isabel’s POVWalking through the hallway of the King’s Mansion, I feel sad.The hallway Furnished with High ceilings adorned with intricate moldings that creates an aura of spaciousness. The polished marble floors gleam under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. One can feel the air filled with a subtle scent of fresh flowers.But I sense tension as I walk through the hallway.Why is everywhere so quiet?I thought to myself.Two steps into the big and exotic living room, I was shocked to see Alexander sitting in one of antique furniture pieces near the window.His gaze feels so cold.I can tell he’s mad. Ranging with anger, but trying to keep his cool.“You’re finally home.” He says, giving an icy demeanor.I hesitated.Unable to say anything for a moment. Puzzled and surprised as it’s been a while since Alexander was home by this time of the day.He’s either already at the office, or he traveled for a business trip from work. While I only got to know about it from his assistant,
Alexander’s POVAs the alcohol wore off, reality seeped in.I find myself staring at the ceiling, the weight of my actions settling heavily on my chest.What have I done? I say, covering my face with my hands.My heart is beating inside my chest.Last night was I and Isabel’s anniversary, and instead of spending the night with her, I’m here with her best friend!My eyes widened.Not when I have decided to let go of our marriage. There is no point in celebrating an anniversary. I thought to myself, trying to escape the weight of what feels so heavy to accept.But I shouldn’t have done this.I turned to look at Cynthia, now sleeping beside me, and I felt a pang of regret.Did I really do this?My thoughts were interrupted when Cynthia rolled, placing her hand round my body.I immediately swung it off, feeling irritated by her touch.“What’s it Alexander?” She says, her voice shaky.“You can’t seriously treat me this way, after what happened between us last night.” She ventured out, a f
Isabel’s POVI look at Alexander, my cold eyes piercing through his.His demeanor is icy like it always has been. Looking unsettled.I wonder what could be going through his mind. Who am I trying to deceive? He’s definitely thinking of his night with Cynthia.The thought of what could have gone down between them came crossing my mind.I tightened my jaw.I’ll never forgive them both.He wants a divorce? He gets it. I’m done been the good and understanding wife of an unfaithful bastard.I signed the divorce papers without hesitation, storming into the room to get my stuff and leave the hell outta here.Did Alexander think I’m going to beg for him to not end this marriage? I can't even stand being in the same room with him.He disgust me!Not after what I saw the other night at the hotel.I used to think Alexander loved me, I used to think our marriage could be saved. Tears well up my eyes.To think that I almost told him about my pregnancy, thinking it could bring us back together. I
Isabel’s POVI booked a bolt to Canyonville to see my parents.The drive to canyonville always felt like a journey back in time, each mile taking me closer to the life I’d left behind.As we drive into the familiar gravel road leading to my parents’ house, I can’t help but feel the weight of everything that has happened.My divorce from Alexander was still fresh, the pain sharp and unrelenting, like a wound that refused to heal.I thought to myself, how am I going to face my parents? They had put so much effort into making my life better, they made sure I lacked nothing, even though we weren’t rich.They hustled day and night, to see that I never lacked, and made sure I attended one of the best high schools in LA. I made them proud by getting a scholarship to continue my university education.I had dreamed of a future filled with love and happiness. I had always wished to make lots of money to assist my parents also, but here I am with nothing to show for it.“We have arrived Ma’am,”
Isabel’s POVI wake up feeling pain in my stomach.I hope my baby’s safe? I say to myself, my eyes wide open.I need to visit the hospital immediately! I jumped out of the bed, as I got ready to leave for the hospital. Hi, Mom, Dad, I say, greeting my parents who look worried sick seeing the way I hastened my steps. “Bel,” Dad called out. “Is anything the problem?”“I will be back,” I say, letting my voice out loud from the door, without giving a direct answer to his question. ************************I sit in the waiting room of LAC+USC Medical Center. My hand pressed firmly against my abdomen as the pain surged through me.The room is buzzed with quiet conversations and the distance hum of medical equipment.Just opposite me, I see a couple who also came in for a check up. The lady in her early twenties like me, but with blonde hair.Her husband held her hands, giving her a wide smile.She’s so lucky to have a loving and caring husband…How I wish…. ‘Stop being silly Isabel, St
Cynthia’s POVThe white walls of the bathroom close in on me as I stare at the pregnancy test in my hand, two faint lines confirming what I’d already suspected.I’m pregnant.I let my shoulders down, remembering the night with Alexander. The drug I’d slipped into his drink was working exactly as planned, until…. I tightened my jaw. Even though we had kissed passionately, and on the verge of being intimate, nothing else happened. And it hurts. Why? Why? Why?….I flip my hair, glaring at the mirror that shows my angry reflection.Why did he suddenly remember Isabel? I still remember vividly how he muttered, ‘you’re not…. Isabel.’ Pushing me away from his embrace.His body sinking into the bed, completely at my mercy.It’s all because of Isabel! I hate her so much.I hate the fact that she exists!I roll my eyes, trying to gather some piece of information.James! I scream.Foolish of me to not have remembered. It’s James baby!I remember sleeping with James on the night I had tak
Alexander’s POVI stare at Cynthia, my mind a foggy mess of half-remembered images.I can see the smug smile on her face, as she claims to be pregnant with my child. My child! The word still sounds like a beat to my chest. The only memory I could grasp is of us kissing, maybe a little more, but beyond that… nothing. Jeez! I rub my hands on my temples. Taking a deep sigh. “Cynthia you can’t be serious right?” I say, steadying my voice. As I try to break the tension that almost feels like a slice to my throat.“How can you say that to me…eee?” She asks, letting tears roll her cheeks, looking towards my mother as if asking for her help. I see a flicker of something run through her eyes—maybe mischief, just not able to comprehend.“Are you now going to deny your child even before bir..th?” She says, letting herself almost look like she’s about to faint. “Oh my dear,” Sabrina says, rushing towards her as she lets her sit on the couch and demands the housekeeper, Monica, to bring so
Isabel’s POVAs we take our seats, I glance around the room, soaking in its glow.Crystal chandeliers hang like stars above a sea of curated beauty—fashion elites, influencers, designers, journalists. All gathered for LM Fashion’s latest showcase. Velvet drapes in the brand’s signature maroon shade frame the wide runway, sleek and gleaming beneath the spotlight. The air smells of roses, ambition, and a hint of tension that only those like me can sense.Roy sits beside me, his shoulder brushing mine slightly, his quiet presence grounding. Across the table, my mother, Victoria Montgomery—still poised as ever—leans in to whisper something to Grace, who gives a soft chuckle in return. They look relaxed. Pleased. The calm before the wave.I glance up—my eyes drawn to the opposite table where the night’s showstoppers sit.Aurora.She looks like she belongs here: regal in black, her hair pinned back with delicate crystal clips that shimmer under the soft lighting. Beside her, Richard looks d
Isabel’s POVIt’s been two weeks since the fall.Two weeks since I cornered Cynthia and made it painfully clear just how much she stands to lose if she ever dares to come for me again. I didn’t need to raise my voice. Just facts, laid bare like knives on silk. I showed her the cracks in her perfect little world—one by one. Her reputation? Hanging by a thread. Her false sense of security in that house? Dismantled. Her place in the industry? Already slipping through her manicured fingers.And that was just the beginning.Because losing her foundation is only the first drop on the rollercoaster I’ve strapped her into.Next comes the descent.I’m going to make her stay at the King’s mansion a living hell. A place so cold, so hostile, even the walls will reject her. I want her to feel the weight of being truly hated—not just by me, but by everyone that matters in that house. Especially Sabrina. The anger in Sabrina’s eyes when she looks at Cynthia now? It’s sharp. Raging. I’ve stoked the f
Isabel’s POVI struggle to loosen my arm from Alexander’s grip, tugging harder even as his fingers dig into my skin like claws desperate to stay tethered. My chest heaves from the pressure, my throat tight with restrained fury.“Let go,” I hiss, but he doesn’t budge.Not until the door swings open.And then… I see him.Roy.He’s standing there, still, shoulders broad, presence commanding. But it’s his eyes that speak volumes. The intensity in his gaze, the way it flickers from me to Alexander’s hold on my arm—it’s enough to make Alexander go still too.In seconds, Roy strides forward. I feel a rush of relief as he reaches us, his hand locking around Alexander’s wrist. His grip is firm. Steady. Without hesitation, he peels Alexander’s hand away from me, forcing him to let go.“How dare you touch her,” Roy growls, his voice low and rough, seconds before his fist crashes into Alexander’s jaw.The blow is fast, brutal. Alexander stumbles back, nearly losing balance but catches himself jus
Alexander’s POVCameras flash like lightning across a stormy sky, the air thick with tension. I stand there, jaw set, the words already rehearsed in my head—but still, I can’t believe Isabel is making me do this.A public apology.God.But as my mother said earlier this morning, “If getting low is the only way to gain control, then get low. We’ll crawl beneath her feet if we must—until we’re ready to rise and flip her world upside down.”And when we do, it’ll be her turn to choke on regret.I inhale sharply through my nose, straighten my shoulders, and speak to the press with a calm I barely feel.Then it comes—the reporter’s question. His voice cuts through the buzz.“We see that your wife, Cynthia Castillo, has indeed offended Miss Claire Montgomery by releasing her private affairs without consent… but what we don’t know is—why? Do you mind telling us why she did so?”My fist tightens.Jaw clenched.My eyes flick toward Cynthia where she sits at the corner of the stage, legs crossed
Isabel’s POVI’m in the middle of a quick briefing with the heads of each department for the upcoming fashion show, everyone huddled around the oval table in my office. Swatches are being passed, digital models flicker across screens, and fabric samples are laid out like cards at a poker game. I’m about to ask a question about lighting when Christine slides in quietly, pressing her hand against the glass door.“Ma’am,” she says, voice low but urgent, “someone is here to see you. He said it’s important.”My brow furrows. “Who is it?”She hesitates.I dismiss the team with a nod. “We’ll pick this up later. Keep working as planned.”They file out, murmuring to one another, a few casting curious glances over their shoulders. The last door click hasn’t even faded when the knob turns again—and in walks the least person I ever expected.Carl Edward.His presence draws an immediate scoff from my lips. I arch a brow, half-surprised, half-irritated. He looks almost the same—tailored charcoal su
Isabel’s POVI barely make it through the door before my mother rushes toward me, her heels clacking against the floor.“Claire, dear, what happened?” she asks, worry laced in every word.She doesn’t wait for an answer. Her hands gently guide me to the couch, pressing me down to sit as though I might shatter if left standing.I stay still.My body might be here, but my mind keeps flicking back to Cynthia’s words earlier—family secrets.What could she be referring to?Is this one of her usual mind games?She knows exactly how deeply things like this get to me. And that’s what makes it worse. Is she just toying with me again? Or… is there actually something I don’t know?I stare at the polished floor, my brows slightly furrowed, thoughts tangled.It wouldn’t be the first time she used manipulation to shake me—but something about her tone today… it didn’t sound like a bluff.I glance up slowly, meeting my mother’s expectant eyes.Should I go on to ask?But why do I feel like even if I do,
Alexander’s POVI sit slouched in my chair, head resting against the high back, rocking slightly as the chair creaks beneath me. My fingers tap a pen rhythmically on the table, a steady beat that contrasts the chaos in my mind.“Be prepared to go down with Cynthia.”Isabel’s voice plays on a loop in my head. I don’t know why, but it’s the way she said it—with quiet certainty—that unsettles me. She’s not bluffing. That much I know.The door bursts open.I sit up instantly as my mother storms in like a woman who’s just been ripped out of a nightmare—wild eyes, stiff shoulders, hands trembling by her side.“What was she doing here?” she demands, jerking her thumb back toward the hallway. “She was just here. Isabel. And she—” Her voice falters, lips trembling.I stand slowly. “What?”“She spoke to me like I was nothing. Can you believe how she spoke to me? She even accused me of wishing her dead!”Her chest rises and falls fast, anger mixed with fear pouring from her in sharp breaths. “Sh
Aria POVThe moment I step into the LM Group building, I can feel it—the air is tense, buzzing with something unspoken. It’s in the way the receptionists glance nervously at each other, in the hushed footsteps of employees scurrying past, trying not to draw attention.But it’s when I step further inside that I spot her.Cynthia.She stands like she owns the damn place, as always. Her shoulders back, head high, the kind of look that screams drama cloaked in luxury. A slow, knowing smile tugs at the corner of my lips. Of course she’s here. Probably to pull one of her usual stunts—perform for the gallery like she hasn’t already been exposed. But who would still be sane, knowing just how close they are to losing everything?I barely had to do anything. And yet… now she’s standing right in the middle of her downfall, finally receiving the punishment she deserves.That thought comforts me—for a second.Until I see her turn toward Isabel.I can’t hear what she says, but I see it happen. I se
Isabel’s POVI step out into the cool air, letting the heavy door click shut behind me. A breath pushes past my lips as I lift my face toward the sky, the breeze brushing over my skin like a silent reward.“That was cool,” I murmur to myself, nodding slightly. “You don’t have to let Alexander’s presence affect you. Never again.”He’s not worth it—not the pain, not the confusion, and certainly not the space in my heart. A man who can look you dead in the eye and question your safety like it’s a business inconvenience doesn’t deserve to be kept anywhere near your soul.My hand curls into a fist at my side, nails biting into my palm.“I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he stays far away from my life for good.”I turn to walk toward my car, heels clicking steadily across the pavement. But just as I reach for the handle, a shift in the air stills me. That familiar scent—too expensive, too calculated—hits before I even see her.Sabrina.The mother hen.Of course.I blink, inhale slowly,