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 POVI feel the frustration bubbling inside me as I stand in the small, cramped kitchen with my parents. The morning light filters through the worn-out curtains, casting a soft glow on the old wooden table where my mother, Celyn, was packing up her cleaning tools.I can't stand sitting around anymore, feeling useless while everyone else is busy working. Joining her might just be an escape route for me. I tilt my head to the side. “I’m coming with you,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but determination clear. “No, you can’t,” My Mom says, not letting her eyes meet mine. I knew she would say no. She never liked me going cleaning with her. I wonder why. I was little when I cried to follow her one time, and she agreed because I was too persistent. The memory of that day is still as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. I’d met the house little princess, a girl about my age. She was pampered beyond belief with every toy imaginable, was dressed in the finest clothes,
Isabel’s POV My heart is pounding in my chest, the rush of adrenaline making everything around me seem both distant and vividly clear at the same time. As I look up, my eyes lock with that of the man who had saved me. His expression is intense, a mix of concern and something else I can’t quite decipher. His hold, firm but gentle, the kind that makes me feel strangely safe despite the chaos I’d just experienced. For a moment, everything and everyone around us seems to freeze in place, as if the world is holding its breath, waiting to see what will happen next.The murmurs in the room falls to a hush, and I became painfully aware of all the eyes on us, watching, waiting. The butler, clearly flustered, rushes forward, breaking the spell. “I deeply apologize for this incident, sir,” she stammers, her voice tingling with panic. ‘Sir? Oh goodness!’ I think to myself, my eyes closely tightening, my legs dangling in the air. He slowly lets me down, his hands lingering just a moment lon
Isabel’s POVI stand in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for tonight’s dinner.I’ll be making dinner tonight, I say, feeling the excitement rush through me. The rhythmic sound of the knife hitting the cutting board calming me, yet my mind is far from at ease. Thoughts of my parents’ strange behavior kept swirling around in my head. Urgh! I take a deep sigh.Letting the thoughts out.It’s been two months since my divorce, and I can’t help but wonder how Alexander is doing? I miss those days when we made plans on having dinner together. I don’t eat dinner till he gets home, so we can have it together. I chuckle slightly.‘Why am I smiling so sheepishly?’ I thought to myself, slightly slapping my face with my hand. ‘You have to stop thinking about Alexander, he’s in the past now.’ A thought flickers through my mind as I let my shoulders down. Especially now there has been news about the marriage tie between the King’s family and the Castillo’s family. It’s going to be a tie between
Alexander’s POVFive Years Later.I make my way to bed, exhausted from the enormous meetings today at work. I feel weighed down, my body aching for sleep. The dim light from the bedside lamp casts a soft glow across the room as I lay down.Soon I feel a hand creep across my body, fingers sliding with the kind of softness that once, years ago, might have stirred some warmth. But it’s different now. It’s Cynthia.Her touch immediately sent a wave of irritation through my entire body. The repulsion tightens my chest, the muscles in my neck stiffened, and my body tensed like a coiled spring.I turned to the side, hoping it’s just a bad dream, but the pressure of her hand remained—a sickening reminder of what my life had become.I grabbed her wrist hard, probably harder than I meant to, and yanked it off me. I clench my jaw, my breathing shallow as fury spreads through me like wildfire. “Don’t you dare!” I say, the words ripping from my throat, each syllable punctuated by rage.She st
Isabel’s POVThe air in the room feels heavier as my mother shifts slightly in her seat, her gaze following Alexander as he walks deeper into the room. Her face doesn’t reveal much—neutral as always—but there’s a flicker of unease, just enough for me to notice. She’s good at masking her feelings, but I know her well enough to sense her discomfort at seeing him here.Christine, ever efficient, nods almost immediately, slipping out of the room without a second thought. I watch her go, the click of her heels echoing softly before the door shuts behind her.Alexander stops a few feet away from where my mother sits. “Mrs. Montgomery,” he greets her, his tone formal but measured.My mother presses her lips into a thin line, her expression momentarily tightening as if debating what to say or do next. She clears her throat, her voice flat but laced with an attempt at politeness. “Thanks for bringing my daughter right on time to the hospital.” The words feel forced, her tone unable to mask the
Isabel’s POVThe sterile scent of antiseptic fills my nostrils as my eyes flutter open, blinking against the light of the room. My gaze sweeps over the white walls, the bright fluorescent lights, and the dull silver fixtures—it’s unmistakable. A hospital room.I turn my head slightly, the effort pulling a groan from my lips, and that’s when I see her. My mother. She’s seated beside me, her fingers trembling against the edge of the chair, her face a mask of worry and exhaustion.“Mom…” I croak, trying to push myself upright, but the sharp pull of pain in my limbs forces me to pause.“No, Isabel, don’t!” she exclaims, leaning forward, her hands reaching to stop me. “You don’t have to get up. Christine!” Her voice rises, sharp with urgency as she calls for Christine. “You need to rest. I’ll call the doctor now.”“I’m fine,” I manage, though the weight in my chest says otherwise. I push against the mattress again, and this time, I manage to sit up, my head throbbing in protest. Just as I
Cynthia’s POVThe laughter in our small circle drifts around me like meaningless noise as I sip my champagne. I nod politely, feigning interest, but my mind is elsewhere, unraveling threads I can’t quite pull together.Across the room, a flash of movement catches my attention. My gaze locks on Claire and my father, deep in conversation near the far corner of the hall.It’s strange. My father rarely accepts invitations, especially for events like this. He’s always preferred to keep his distance from society’s endless charades. Yet the moment he heard the name Claire Montgomery, he insisted on attending.I push the thought aside, trying to rationalize it. He’s probably just as curious as everyone else, wondering how someone could look so much like Isabel. But deep down, there’s a nagging unease I can’t quite shake.“I know it’s just business,” a voice from our group cuts into my thoughts, dragging me back. “But there’s something in the way Alexander looks at her.”The words land like a
Alexander’s POVThe moment Claire walks into the event, flanked by an entourage of bodyguards, the air shifts. She commands attention effortlessly, her mere presence drawing every eye in the room, including mine. I can’t help but stare. It’s not just her striking resemblance to Isabel—it’s everything else about her. The power she exudes, the confidence in her every step, the way she holds herself as though the world bows to her. Isabel was never like this. Isabel lived in my shadow, content to be the soft-spoken wife, the woman who leaned on me for support.Claire, though—she’s a force of nature. A far cry from the life Isabel led. And yet, despite all the reasons I’ve found to dismiss any connection between them, my gut won’t let go of the hunch. It doesn’t make sense. Why does she interest me so much?Her eyes lock with mine, just for a brief moment. There’s something unreadable in her gaze, but before I can analyze it, she tilts her head ever so slightly and places a soft smile on
Isabel’s POVMy heart races, pounding against my ribs like a desperate drumbeat as I strain to make sense of the suffocating dark. My fingers claw at the air, searching for something, anything, but it’s too dark to see. Too dark to breathe. And then I hear it—or think I do—a steady, deliberate breath. It’s close. Too close. A man’s breath, growing louder with every second, each sound a knife against my sanity.Panic grips me like a vice, my throat tightening as I suppress the urge to scream. Who could feel sane in a moment like this? The imagined sound grows heavier, impossibly near, and my mind spirals into chaos. Is he standing in front of me? Watch me? Waiting? My heart slams against my chest as if it’s trying to break free. The darkness feels alive, pressing in, trapping me.Then, like a cruel twist of fate, the lights flicker back on. My vision adjusts, and the room reclaims its reality. He isn’t too close: there’s no breath on my neck. It was all in my head. But there he is—
Isabel’s POVFelix Castillo approaches me with the kind of calm confidence that only someone of his stature can carry. His glass of champagne catches the light as he raises it in a mock toast, his lips curling into a small smile. “Miss Montgomery,” he greets, his tone smooth, polished, almost theatrical. I respond with a curt nod and a polite smile, masking the unease bubbling beneath my composed exterior.“Finally, I get the chance to talk to you,” he says, letting a soft laugh escape. “I think I should feel honored.”I don’t get the joke, but I force a cheeky smile, hoping it’s enough to mask my confusion. He leans in slightly, his dark eyes sharp yet unreadable. “You’re quite interesting,” he remarks.My brow furrows ever so slightly, though I quickly smooth it out. “What do you mean by that, Mr. Castillo?” I ask, keeping my tone professional, unwilling to let him see that his words have put me on edge.His lips lift in a softer smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Simply
Isabel’s POVThe applause is polite, the kind that fills the void but lacks sincerity. Cynthia stands on the stage, the perfect picture of poise. Her smile is calculated, her words carefully chosen as she speaks about the partnership.“This foundation,” she begins, her voice smooth like honey yet edged with steel, “is about creating opportunities for those in need, and I can’t do it without our incredible partners. And, of course, a special volunteer who so graciously dedicates her time to this cause—Claire Montgomery.”Her words hang in the air, drawing a wave of approving murmurs from the crowd. I know exactly what she’s doing—painting me as the willing participant in her grand narrative, carefully crafting the story she wants the world to see.When she gestures toward me, I plaster on a polite smile and move toward the stage. The applause swells as I climb the steps, the weight of every camera in the room pressing down on me. The event host’s voice booms, welcoming me with an enthu
Isabel’s POVThe sound of my mother’s worried voice pulls me back into the present as she says softly, “If you want, I can go with you to the event.”I shake my head gently, offering a faint smile. “You don’t have to worry about me, Mom. I’ll be good.”Aurora, my ever-outspoken sister, immediately interjects. “Now that’s a lie. How can you be okay? Sis, this is Cynthia we’re talking about here. You, of all people, should know how cunning and evil she is. She betrayed you, remember? And had an affair with your husband! She can literally do anything just to get what she wants.”Her words hang in the air like a blade, slicing through the tenuous peace of the room. My eyes flick to Aurora, and she immediately clamps her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbles, her voice subdued. “I didn’t mean to bring that up. It’s just… you’re getting too close to them, and I’m worried.”I glance at my mother, who nods solemnly, her agreement written across her face.A sigh escapes my lips, long and w
Cynthia’s POVThe night hums with energy as I stand near the entrance, a practiced smile on my face. The gown I chose—a sleek, emerald-green number that hugs my figure and flares slightly at the hem—glimmers under the soft amber lights. Diamond earrings dangle from my ears, catching every flicker of light, while my hair is swept into a perfect chignon, leaving no strand out of place.Guests arrive steadily, each greeted with my charm and poise. Alexander is off to the side, mingling with a group of well-dressed individuals, his expression unreadable as always. My father’s presence, though, is the real surprise tonight.I recall our earlier conversation. He hadn’t been interested, his disinterest as familiar as the cold indifference I grew up with—until I mentioned my partner. His response had been subtle, his face betraying nothing, but I felt the shift. Something about Claire Montgomery intrigued him. And here he is tonight, standing among the city’s elite. I purse my lips, half-smil