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 POVI lean in my plus leather chair, letting the hum of the city outside of my office windows become nothing more than a distant murmur. Christine my PA stands before me, her usual poised self, a report clasped in her hands. “Ms. Claire,” she says, her voice steady as she handed me the documents from our LA branch, “The numbers are looking promising, but we’ve had some delays in the shipments.”Taking the papers from her, I let a smile tug at the corner of my lips. “Thank you, Christine,” I replied, my voice calm, almost deceptively serene. As I glanced at the papers, a different file caught my eyes—the one on King’s Empire. Seeing this, my smile grew a little wider. If only they knew. I had asked for a private investigation done on the King’s Empire businesses— their hotels, furniture designing and decor business, everything concerning Alexander King a week ago.So it was only normal that I smiled harder seeing that report come in so fast. I know you must be wondering wh
Isabel’s POVLeaving the office, I glance at my watch—3:45PM. It’s time to pick up my babies, Scarlett and Sterling from preschool. I feel excited.My driver, Travis, is already waiting beside the sleek, black Bentley, its glossy finish glinting in the afternoon sun. I slid into the luxurious leather seats, the car’s interior exuding opulence and comfortTravis greets me with his usual courteous nod. He has been with me for years and now understands the delicate balance between professionalism and warmth.As he starts the engine, I feel a familiar pang of anticipation. Despite my busy schedule, nothing was more important to me than being there for my twins.The ride was smooth, and the quiet luxury of the Bentley provides a sense of peace and comfort that is much needed after a busy day. Being a mother to Scarlett and Sterling is my greatest joy, one that I can’t tell. Their laughter, their tiny hands reaching for mine, and their innocent excitement are the highlights of my day.I’m
Isabel’s POVI make my way to the private gym that is tucked into the west wing of the mansion, right past the study. It’s one of Aurora’s favorite places, a sanctuary she treats with the same devotion as her morning coffee. For her, this space isn’t just about fitness—it’s her escape. I can see why. The polished floors gleam, and the glass doors let in the soft light from the garden outside, making the space feel open and alive.As I walk in, the familiar hum of the machines fills the air. Aurora is on the treadmill, her strides steady and determined. Sweat beads on her forehead, glistening under the lights as her focus remains unshaken. Watching her like this always motivates me. She’s relentless, committed to every goal she sets.Her eyes flick toward me, and a faint smile plays on her lips as she slows the machine to a stop. She grabs the small towel hanging off the side, dabbing her face and neck before she speaks.“I bet you’re not here for this, are you?” she teases, her voice
Alexander’s POVI lean back in my chair, my leg bouncing restlessly as I stare at the closed door. My fingers twist the edge of my jacket, the tension in my chest refusing to settle. I’ve been trying to keep my mind off it—off them—but it’s useless. Cynthia and Claire in the same room never ends well. Oil and water don’t mix, and I know the history between them well enough to expect a spark turning into a blaze.For a moment, I almost push myself up to check, but I stop, pressing my hand to the armrest instead. They’re adults. They can handle themselves. So why the hell does it feel like something’s about to go wrong? I shake my head, forcing myself to sit still, but the unease claws at me, pulling tighter.The door creaks open. My head jerks up, and there she is—Cynthia. A smug smile spreads across her face, so out of place that I blink. My mind stumbles over it. Didn’t she walk in earlier with a look so downcast she could’ve passed for a grieving widow? Now she’s smiling?I sit up s
Isabel’s POVAs I step back into the restaurant, I force myself to focus on my breathing. In through my nose, out through my mouth. Calm, steady, controlled. My fingers twitch at my sides, desperate to clench into fists again, but I smooth them down my dress instead, willing myself to keep it together. I won’t give Cynthia the satisfaction of knowing she got to me. But my fury burns hot and sharp as my eyes land on Alexander.Our gazes lock, and the air feels heavier, charged with something I can’t quite name. His face is calm—too calm—but there’s something in his eyes. A flicker of uncertainty, maybe even guilt, crosses his face, as if he’s caught in the web of his own mind.My heart pounds, my anger bubbling dangerously close to the surface. For a fleeting moment, I want to march straight to him, to say something—anything—that will cut as deeply as I feel wounded. The words are on the tip of my tongue, burning to be released. But I stop myself, taking a long, measured breath. No.
Isabel’s POVThe tension thickens, but I try to stay still. Why should I leave? I’m done running now.I glance at Roy and whisper, a teasing smile tugging at my lips, “And the food, Roy. How can I leave that?” I add a playful gesture, and he chuckles, his tension easing slightly.Placing a hand over mine, he says, “As long as you’re fine, let’s enjoy our meal. You know I’m here for you, always.”I give him a cheeky smile, but my mind betrays me, drifting back to the pair across the room. Just then, the waiter arrives with our meals, the aroma sending a thrill through my senses. I dive in without hesitation, savoring every bite. It’d be foolish to let them ruin this for me, I think, relishing the rich flavors.When I finish, I stand up, ready to make my exit, but before I can take a step, I catch the flicker of worry in Roy’s eyes. It’s quick, fleeting, but it’s there—a silent question hanging between us. His concern isn’t something he tries to hide, even if it’s just a moment of hesita
Isabel’s POVGuilt gnaws at me as Roy gently helps me into the car, his hand steadying me as I sit down. He closes the door with a soft thud, his movements careful, as though I’m something fragile. As he walks around to the driver’s side, my chest tightens. This pretense, this little act of weakness I conjured at the office, it wasn’t fair to him. Roy’s always been on the lookout for me, always ready to help or save me, even when I don’t ask.As the car pulls away, my mind drifts. Memories surface—Roy standing by my side during moments I thought I couldn’t get through. Through the years, through the pain, through my mistakes, he’s never faltered. How does someone care this much, for this long, without giving up? I wonder if it’s the kind of loyalty I’ve only ever seen in stories, the kind between couples who’ve loved each other for years.I feel a sudden flutter in my chest, and my breath catches for a moment. Or is this… No. I silently laugh at myself, the absurdity of the thought
Alexander’s POVI pull into the valet parking lot of La Belle Étoile, the restaurant Cynthia’s been raving about for a while now, mentioning how she’s seen a lot about it and always wanted to try it. She’s brought it up so many times, I’ve lost count—going on about their “exquisite dining experience” and their perfectly curated menu and luxurious ambianceTrue to her word, the place reeks of prestige. The entrance alone gleams with crystal chandeliers visible through the glass doors, and the soft hum of classical music spills out as we step inside.Cynthia’s arm wraps around mine as we walk in, her fingers curling tightly against my jacket sleeve. I resist the urge to pull away, reminding myself to maintain composure. We’re in public, and I won’t give her the satisfaction of a scene. Still, the possessiveness in her grip irritates me. She tilts her head toward me, whispering something about how I’m going to love the food here. I nod absentmindedly, offering her a tight smile as the
Roy’s POVThe meeting ends with a firm handshake, the client’s enthusiastic agreement still ringing in my ears. Normally, I’d relish the satisfaction of sealing another deal, but my mind has already drifted elsewhere. To her. Isabel.Ever since the news of her renewing the contract with King’s Empire broke, I’ve been restless. It’s not just business; it’s what it implies. There will be constant communication between her and Alexander now. I can’t ignore it. It’s like a slow drip of unease, wearing me down.I lean back in my chair, my gaze fixed on the city skyline through my office window. Isabel’s never looked at me the way she used to look at Alexander. I’ve known her for years, shared so much with her, but there’s something in her eyes whenever Alexander’s name comes up. Even when she insists she’s done with him, that all she feels is hatred, I see it. That flicker of something deeper.It’s not just anger—it’s hurt. And maybe, buried beneath the pain, there’s still something else.
Alexander’s POVI try to pull my gaze away, but my eyes are glued to them, my mind screaming at me to look anywhere but there. But I can’t. I fight it, wrestle with the urge to turn my head, but my gaze lingers on Roy and Claire, still hovering too close. Susan and the others must sense the tension radiating off me, but Susan, ever the professional, stays quiet. I can feel her eyes darting to me, then back to them, probably trying to figure out what’s eating at me. But it’s not something I can explain.Seeing Roy standing so close to Claire, his face mere inches from hers, stings more than I want to admit. For a brief moment, something stirs in me—something sharp and foreign. It’s jealousy. I hate the feeling. How could I possibly be jealous? I don’t even know this woman, not really. She’s not Isabel. I know that. My heart shouldn’t be reacting to her like this, but it clenches anyway, traitorous and unrelenting. I refuse to let it happen again. Falling for someone who looks like her
Isabel’s POVThe steady click of my heels echoes down the hallway as I make my way out of the boardroom. Their shocked faces flash through my mind, and I can’t help the soft smile that plays on my lips. They’re not ready for what’s coming their way. Not even close.But just as I’m savoring the moment, I stop in my tracks. Standing a few feet ahead is Roy, hands tucked casually into his pockets, his relaxed demeanor almost unnerving. The calmness flashing across his face contrasts sharply with the tense air I just left behind.For a second, I think I’m imagining things. Roy? Here? My gaze darts briefly to Christine, who glances between him and me with a curious look, her eyes flicking over my expression as if trying to gauge my reaction.My shock must be evident because Roy chuckles softly, his deep voice breaking through my thoughts as he takes a deliberate step closer, the soft click of his polished shoes filling the air. He stops right in front of me, still smiling, and says, “Hi.” H