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 POV“Of course, honey,” I whispered softly, reaching out to gently stroke Scarlett’s hair. My fingers tangled in her soft black curls as I tried to steady my voice. “You do have a father..” I pause for a moment, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. I drifted my gaze as I said, “But he’s far away from us now, so very far.” I can feel the weight of these words, a heaviness settling in my chest that I didn’t dare let slip into my expression. I held her gaze, trying to mask the storm brewing inside me with the tenderness only a mother could give. “Are you two done with your ice cream?” I ask, interrupting Scarlett who looks like she’s about to say something else. I didn’t want to hear more questions—didn’t want to face the innocence of her curiosity any longer. “So can we head home?” I let my smile brighter this time, willing them to see only the warmth I so desperately wanted to shield them with.“Okay! Let’s go home now, Mummy!” They both shouted in unison, their
Isabel’s POVThe news hit like a thunderclap in the quiet dawn, the headline flashing across every screen I passed: “The Montgomery’s Set to Announce the Return of Their Long-Lost Daughter. She Takes Up the Family Business in LA.” It was as if the entire world suddenly turned its gaze toward me, my name whispered in every corner, from New York to San Francisco. I could feel the tremor of shockwaves spreading like wildfire, the curiosity, the gossip— all of it echoing back to the power and influence of the Montgomery name. The Montgomery family—my family—is no stranger to the spotlight. We are the untouchables, the elites. With LM Group dominating both fashion and real estate, we have an empire that stretches across every state, every skyline dots with our investments.My parents are billionaires ranked number one, with wealth so vast it’s almost unimaginable. Our name opened doors, and our presence commanded rooms. And now, after years of being hidden in the shadows, I’m set to rec
Alexander’s POVThe drive to the office is quiet, save for the soft hum of the engine and the faint memory of Claire’s stunned face flashing through my mind. A sharp laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it. I rest my elbow on the car door, fingers brushing against my lips as the scene replays over and over. Her wide eyes, the flicker of speechlessness—it’s too good. She thought she could rattle me, put me in my place? No, she doesn’t get to have the last word. Not with me. I shake my head slightly, my grip on the wheel tightening as I press the gas pedal further.“You don’t get to make me look small, Claire Montgomery,” I think, smirking as I grip the wheel tighter. “I’m Alexander King. And you’ll know it soon enough.”But then a thought creeps in, one that makes my smirk falter for a second. Why am I smiling so much about this? My teeth click together as I shake my head, forcing the thought away. “No. It’s nothing. It’s just the fact that I had the upper hand back there. That’s a
Isabel’s POVChristine and I arrive at the condo just as the sun dips lower, casting a warm golden hue over the building’s reflective glass exterior. The parking lot is bustling, and as we step out, I notice the controlled chaos inside. The buzz is palpable, a hum of voices, hurried footsteps, and the occasional clatter of tools reverberating through the air. It’s nothing out of the ordinary—every department seems to be making their final push for the project’s completion, but I can’t shake the tension curling in my chest.As we make our way through the grand entrance, heads turn. Conversations falter, and their surprise is evident, though expertly masked with polite smiles. It’s clear they hadn’t expected me here today.“Good afternoon, ma’am,” several voices chime as I pass.I offer a brief smile, my voice even as I respond, “Good work, everyone. Let’s keep it up.”The activity is in full swing. Teams are scattered across the lobby, checking last-minute details. The media crew is me
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