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 POVStanding by the side of my office, I gaze at the sleek building prototype displayed on the shelf. My fingers trail along the edge of the glass frame, my thoughts drifting to Alexander. Is he swamped, drowning under the weight of his deadlines? A faint smile tugs at my lips—he always thrived under pressure. But as the thought lingers, a flicker of doubt surfaces. Will he manage to pull this off, or is this the moment he finally falters?“Ma’am,” Christine’s voice cuts through my musings. She strides in, dropping a file on my desk. “We’ve just received a report from our fashion line. The work has officially begun. The team’s finalizing the collection, ensuring quality control across each design. The feedback from the preview is exceptional—they’re confident it’ll be a major hit.”“Should I demand that the work be put to hold? Especially with the—”“No,” I interject, nodding as I walk to my seat. My heels click against the floor, and I lower myself into the chair, leaning s
Isabel’s POVI promised the kids that if they practiced for their school’s upcoming function—even though it’s weeks away—I’d drop them off at school myself. The earlier they started, the better, right? So here we are. Turning to face them in the backseat, I smile. “Okay, babies, we’re here now,” I say as I unbuckle Scarlett first, lifting her out of the car. Her giggles fill the air as I place her on the ground.Just as I’m reaching for Sterling, a sharp scream cuts through the quiet—though not loud enough to disturb the school’s peace. “Uncle! Mommy, it’s Uncle!” Scarlett exclaims, tugging at my dress before darting off in a direction.“Scarlett!” I call, quickly setting Sterling down. His little fingers wrap tightly around mine as I look toward where Scarlett ran off. “Which uncle is she talking about?” I mutter under my breath. Turning toward the direction, I see him—Alexander. He’s crouched to Scarlett’s height, their chatter filling the air with an ease that catches me off guard.
Cynthia’s POVAs I step into the quiet house, the faint scent of whiskey lingers in the air, mingling with the cool stillness of the night. My heels are muffled by the polished marble tiles, and I glance at the dimly lit hallway, relieved to find it empty. Sneaking in has become second nature, a careful game of silence and shadows. I make my way toward the stairs, hoping to slip into my room unnoticed.But just as my hand grazes the bannister, a voice cuts through the air, sharp and cold.“Are you out again seeking a way to ruin things?”I freeze, my breath hitching as my gaze snaps toward the living room. Alexander.He’s sprawled on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, a tumbler of whiskey resting in his hand. The dim lighting casts shadows across his sharp jawline, but it’s his eyes that strike me. Cold, piercing, and—under the warm glow of the lamp—almost red, like embers waiting to ignite. He doesn’t move immediately, but there’s a slow, deliberate shift in his posture as he
Cynthia’s POVMy heels click sharply against the polished floor as I storm through the building. My fury burns like a live wire under my skin, each step propelling me closer to the one place I know can absorb it all. The private escape no one else knows about—my sanctuary of chaos.When I reach the door, I shove it open without hesitation. He barely has time to react before I close the space between us, grabbing him by the collar and crashing my lips against his. The kiss is raw, desperate, and he responds in kind, his hands gripping my waist before sliding lower with a force that makes me shudder. This is what I came for—the intensity, the fire that burns away everything else.My breath comes in short gasps as the kiss deepens, and I pull back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark with emotion, the kind that always ignites something primal in me. I hate that it does, but I can’t stop. He’s always been the one to ground me, to take the edge off when I’m spiraling.I grab him
Alexander’s POVCollins’ voice pulls me out of my thoughts like a sharp tug on a leash. “Hey, man, that’s a lot,” he says, his tone light, but there’s an edge to it that I can’t ignore. I swirl the amber liquid in my glass, watching the light refract through it. My jaw tightens, the silence between us heavy as I finally raise my eyes to meet his. He’s giving me that look—sharp, no-nonsense—the one he uses when he’s about to call me out.“So,” Collins says, his voice dropping lower, more serious. “What’s the plan? You’re not thinking of backing out, are you?”I sigh, setting my glass down with a dull clink. “What do you think?” The words feel heavy, like throwing a coin into a well without knowing what the outcome will be.Collins’ brows shoot up, his surprise cutting through the haze in my mind. “Come on, man, it’s unlike you to just give up. This isn’t just some contract. It’s your name, your legacy. Losing this deal could mean losing everything you’ve built—and everything you’ve fo
Isabel’s POVThe boardroom is silent as I settle into my seat, the eyes of every executive fixed on me. The meeting had been scheduled to discuss updates on our key projects, but I know the rumors circling the King’s Empire are the real reason for this tension.I fold my hands deliberately on the desk, my knuckles grazing the polished wood. It’s a small gesture, but it halts the rising whispers, their attention snapping back to me.I begin with a rundown of the agenda, covering the progress of ongoing initiatives. My voice is steady, confident, as I outline the achievements so far. Just as I finish, one of the executives, a middle-aged man with graying hair, leans forward, his brow furrowed.“Miss Montgomery,” he begins, his tone cautious, “we’ve heard unsettling rumors that the King’s Empire may not be able to complete the interiors of the project before the set date. Is there any truth to this?”The room shifts—chairs creak, murmurs rise like an undercurrent. But I don’t flinch. My
Isabel’s POVThe building buzzes with energy as I stride toward the entrance. The hum of voices overlaps with the tapping of keyboards, punctuated by the occasional ring of phones. This isn’t just another day—it’s crunch time, with slightly more than a week until the launch of the condo project. My heels click against the marble floors, each step purposeful, each stride a testament to the pace we need to maintain.“Ma’am.” A team head approaches, matching my stride with a clipboard in hand, his tone urgent. “There’s an issue with the digital marketing campaign. Some of the ad visuals didn’t pass compliance, and the team is concerned it might delay the final push.”“Pull the team into a quick review,” I say firmly, barely slowing my steps. “Have them make the necessary revisions and submit by the end of the day. We can’t afford to lose momentum.”“Yes, ma’am.” He nods and veers off into the sea of activity.Christine is waiting for me by the elevator, her gaze focused on her iPad. “Soc
Alexander’s POVIt’s been three days since Cynthia created this mess, and I still can’t figure out her reason. Why would she do this? What does she gain? I pinch the bridge of my nose, leaning back in my chair, the weight of it all sinking into my chest. If this spirals out of control, I don’t think I can ever forgive her. My jaw tightens at the thought—especially if this mess blows back on me.My thoughts are interrupted as Susan walks in. Her heels click softly against the floor, her figure framed by the doorway. “Sir,” she starts, her tone professional but edged with worry, “like you requested, an order has been sent.” Her hands drop to her sides, her voice shifting slightly as she continues, “But sir… can we really meet the deadline?”I glance up at her, not because of her words but because my mind is spinning with the possibilities. What if we can’t? What if this entire launch gets derailed? My fingers tap restlessly on the desk as Susan shifts, not nervously but cautiously, like
Isabel’s POVThe city blurs past as I finalize today’s strategy. When the Redding Foundation’s grand facade comes into view, I’m ready for the next phase.I step out of the car, the admiration and subtle murmurs of onlookers brushing past me like a warm breeze. I stride confidently through the building, my heels echoing against the polished marble floors.As I approach Cynthia’s office, I find her at her desk, shoulders hunched, fingers tapping nervously. Her usual composure is gone.I smile faintly, a calculated expression of amusement, as I push open the door and step inside. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our appointment today?”Cynthia startles, her head snapping up, her mask of professionalism slipping for just a moment before she hastily reassembles it. “Of course not,” she replies, though her voice lacks its usual bite.I lean against the back of the chair, studying her carefully. Her brow furrows slightly, as if she’s trying to piece something together. “We’ve just started ou