Isabel’s POVI let her words hang in the air, savoring the weight of her audacity. Slowly, I take a step closer, the corner of my mouth curling into the faintest hint of a smile. Her confidence wavers—just a flicker, but enough for me to notice.“Cynthia,” I say evenly, my tone as smooth as silk. “What a surprise.”Her face remains composed, but her posture stiffens. “I thought I’d come and celebrate your success,” she says, her voice laced with mock sincerity. “It’s quite the achievement.”I tilt my head, studying her. “I appreciate the gesture,” I reply, letting my voice dip slightly, enough to make her uneasy. “But if I wanted your congratulations, I would have asked for it.”Her smile falters, her lips twitching as though searching for the right response. I don’t give her the chance.“Especially not from someone who almost ruined this project,” I continue, my voice dropping lower, sharper.Cynthia’s eyes widen, and for a moment, the mask slips. The confidence she wore like armor c
Isabel’s POVThe tension between us thickens, a silent, charged moment stretching as Cynthia’s hand hovers midair. The way her eyes burn into mine, full of frustration and humiliation, is almost enough to make me laugh. Almost.But I know her too well—this isn’t just anger. It’s desperation. She’s cornered, her reputation slipping through her fingers like water, and she’ll grasp at anything to pull me down with her.I leave my hand extended for a beat longer, just long enough for the crowd to notice, enough for the cameras to snap their damning shots. And then I let my arm fall, stepping back.Her sharp intake of breath is satisfying—almost.She clenches her jaw, fury flashing in her eyes. Before her hand can reach mine, I take a deliberate step back, letting my arm drop to my side. Her intentions are clear—dragging me into the pool would be the perfect way for her to level the playing field. But I’m no fool. Not tonight.A false smile curls on my lips as I tilt my head, my tone dripp
Cynthia’s POVI sit on my bed, my fingers curled into tight fists as I replay the incident at the party. The laughter, the gasps, the humiliation. My dress clinging to my body, the cold water shocking my system as I struggled to stay afloat, my vision blurring with fury and shame. The memory is so vivid it makes my blood boil.Before I realize it, I’m on my feet, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts. My nails dig into my palms as I recall Claire standing by the pool, her gaze steady—too steady. She had pulled back her hand at the last second, as if she had sensed something. My jaw clenches. Isabel hates water. She doesn’t even know how to swim.My eyes widen, my pulse racing as a thought slams into me. I scoff, shaking my head, but the suspicion lingers, growing stronger. Could Claire have sensed what I was about to do? Could she have known I was moments away from pulling her in?I push my hair back, frustration coursing through me. That was my perfect chance. If I had dragged her
Aria’s POV“This is nice. I want my birthday hall looking just like this,” the client says, her eyes sweeping over the final design on the screen.I smile, maintaining the perfect balance of warmth and professionalism. “Of course. I deliver the best,” I reply with confidence, my tone smooth, certain.She stands, smoothing her designer dress, and I rise with her, following as she makes her way toward the exit. With a final nod of approval, she steps out, leaving me alone in the meeting room.Sinking back into my seat, I grab my phone from my bag, my lips curving into a wide smile. This was a big win—a major client Aunt Victoria had recommended me for—and I want to tell Roy.My hand hovers over the screen, but before I can call, my mind drifts back to last night. The way Roy had dropped me off, his voice lingering in my mind—Good luck with your meeting tomorrow, Aria.A shiver runs down my spine, my fingers unconsciously tightening around the phone. The way he smiled at me… it made me h
Collins’ POVI pull into the parking lot, cutting the engine before stepping out. It’s going to be a long day—I can already feel it. As I make my way toward the building, something tugs at my mind. Did I send that file out earlier?I stop in my tracks, mentally retracing my steps. Damn it. If I didn’t—Then it clicks. I did. A sharp exhale leaves my lips. That would’ve been a disaster.Just as I turn to keep walking, I collide with someone—hard. Aria.Her hands flail as she loses balance, and without thinking, I grab her before she hits the ground. My heart nearly stops. The thought of her actually falling makes my chest tighten. But then she regains herself just as quickly, pulling away like my touch burns her.She bends, gathering her scattered belongings, her movements quick and dismissive. Shit. I crouch to help, but my eyes land on the phone she clutches tightly. The screen is cracked.I swallow thickly. “Is it—”She snatches it closer to her chest and stands abruptly, her gaze m
Isabel’s POVTwo weeks have passed since the condo launch, and it’s been thriving beyond projections. Investors are pleased, occupancy rates are soaring, and the media won’t stop talking about its seamless integration of luxury and modern design. It’s exactly the kind of success I had envisioned—though not in the way I had wanted.Striding out of the conference room, I adjust the sleeves of my blazer. The meeting had just concluded, a brief but necessary discussion on the condo’s progress. Numbers were good, the demand steady, but there was still work to be done.“Christine,” I call as I pass by her desk.She’s already alert, standing at attention. “Yes, ma’am?”“Send out a follow-up to the investors. I want a detailed report on their feedback within the next twenty-four hours. And get marketing to push the new campaign sooner rather than later.”Christine dips her head. “I’ll get it done.” Without hesitation, she turns and strides off, efficient as ever.I continue my walk toward my
Isabel’s POVI smile, snapping out of my thoughts. If Cynthia thinks I’m going to be scared of her for whatever reason, then she’s kidding herself. Whatever she’s here for, I’m ready for it.Cynthia chuckles, her shoulders shuddering slightly as she looks directly at me, probably sensing the tension in the air. “Oh my! I was just kidding. Don’t tell me you took it that seriously?”I scoff. “Of course not,” I say smoothly, my tone light but with just enough bite to let her know she doesn’t matter.For a brief second, her smile falters before she braces up again. “But… on the other hand, I did expect your call. Or maybe a visit? You know, as friends do.”I push down the irritation rising in me, leaning slightly forward. “Not when you broke the friendship rule. Or did you forget our last discussion that night?”Cynthia’s eyes flicker, a sly look crossing them. “Oh, about that,” she murmurs, tilting her head as if in thought. “I’m not supposed to say this now, but don’t you think you shou
Aria’s POVI step into Claire’s office, a smile tugging at my lips. It’s been a while since I’ve been here, and despite everything weighing on me, there’s always something warm and familiar about LM Group. Something that makes me feel like I belong, even if just for a moment.But then my gaze lands on her.Cynthia Castillo.My smile falters, my heart sinking so fast it feels like it might plummet right through me.I wasn’t expecting to see her here. She’s dressed in an expensive dress and heels, the kind that scream power, wealth—privilege. The same privilege she’s always had. The same privilege that ruined my life.I try to mask my reaction, force the tension from my body. But it’s hard. Too hard. Because when you’re standing face-to-face with your worst nightmare, the past has a way of sinking its claws into you, dragging you under.Cynthia takes a step toward me. My pulse pounds.Not now, Aria. I clench my fist slightly, pushing down every raging thought, every memory clawing its w
Cynthia’s POVThe air in the boardroom is thick with unspoken thoughts. The executives sit stiffly around the long table, their gazes flicking between one another, avoiding direct eye contact with me. Some fidget with their pens, others drum their fingers against the table, their silence louder than words.I clear my throat, leaning forward slightly, my fingers locking together as I scan each of them. “I know you’re all wondering why this meeting,” I begin, my voice even, measured. “And I also know that none of you are strangers to the news.”The reaction is immediate—bodies shifting, pens stilled, a few glances exchanged. A chair creaks as someone adjusts their posture. Some try to mask their discomfort, their expressions carefully neutral, but I see it. I feel it.My temples throb, and I press my fingers against them briefly before exhaling sharply. “Yes, I know I agreed to the partnership with Claire.” My voice is steady, but there’s a deliberate pause before I continue, my nails p
Isabel’s POVI’m home. Finally. But peace? Nowhere in sight.“See why I never supported you returning?” My mother’s voice cuts through the air, thick with frustration. She paces the room, eyes sharp with anger. “That evil girl Cynthia will never let you rest! Look at this—she’s already revealed your true identity to the public. What next? She’ll paint you as a cheat? How shameless can she be? And now, she dares to spread lies, saying you’re not even a Montgomery!”She throws her phone onto the coffee table, her chest rising and falling as she exhales sharply. I just sit there, staring at the screen, the comments from Cynthia’s post flashing in my mind.Isabel Montgomery? Isn’t that Claire?No way! Claire and Isabel might look alike, but their class is different!Claire is classy and polished—Isabel? Not so much.Maybe she was hiding in plain sight all along.Some believed it, others refused to. The debate raged on.Just then, Aurora bursts in, shopping bags in hand, excitement shining
Isabel’s POVThe words Cynthia said yesterday still linger in my mind, threading through my thoughts no matter how much I try to push them aside. I barely slept, replaying every single thing she said—her smug tone, the veiled warnings.But I don’t have time to dwell on that now. There’s work to be done.Christine steps in just as I’m scanning through the final details of a document.“Ma’am,” she calls, her voice even but carrying an edge of urgency.I hum in acknowledgment, eyes still on the screen, my fingers skimming the text.“We’ve received an official message from The Regency Hotel,” she continues. “They’ve canceled our application to use their venue for the upcoming event.”That gets my attention. My head lifts sharply. “What?” My brows knit. “How? You mean Carl is rejecting our connection?”Christine nods.I lean back into my chair, disbelief settling in. “Wait, I don’t get it. He was the one interested first. He’s been more excited than anyone about having us.” I shake my head
Isabel’s POVThe soft hum of conversation fills the office as we sit around the long conference table, our attention fixed on the large screen displaying the latest batch of photos from AD Media. The room is warm with a sense of accomplishment as we scroll through the shots—each frame capturing the elegance, the power, the essence of what we envisioned for the brand.“This one,” one of the designers murmurs, tapping a perfectly lit shot. “The composition is flawless.”“No, this,” another interjects, zooming in on an image where the fabric falls just right, highlighting the sharp cut of the blazer.I nod, taking it all in, my fingers brushing over the glossy proofs on the table. This is what I live for—every detail, every selection. The best of the best must be chosen.Just as I’m about to weigh in, the door bursts open.The loud bang echoes through the room, and all heads whip toward the entrance.“No, ma’am, you can’t just—” Christine’s voice is frantic as she rushes in behind her.Bu
Cynthia’s POV The dimly lit room hums with quiet sophistication as I swirl the wine in my glass, watching the deep red liquid catch the faint glow of the chandelier. The air is thick with the scent of aged wood and expensive leather, a setting that matches the confidence coursing through me.Then, the door creaks open.I don’t turn immediately. Instead, I glance sideways, catching James in my peripheral vision. He stands there, his posture tense, but there’s something different about him tonight. A certainty.“Hope this isn’t going to be one of your excuses again.” My voice is smooth, laced with just the right amount of impatience. I tilt my chin slightly, taking another slow sip, daring him to prove me wrong.James exhales weakly and steps forward, closing the distance before I can react. His arms wrap around me from behind, tight—too tight. There’s something desperate in the way he holds me, something that sets my teeth on edge.I stiffen. This isn’t why I’m here.Pushing against h
Alexander’s POVI freeze mid-step.Isabel?The moment I see her walk out of Collins’ office, my mind goes blank. She doesn’t even glance at me, just strides past like I’m nothing but air. Like I never existed to her. The indifference in her expression, the way her shoulders are squared as if she’s holding herself together—it unsettles me more than I care to admit.What the hell is she doing here? What business does she have with Collins?Something isn’t right. I can feel it.I push the door open, stepping in and shutting it behind me. Collins barely flinches, though I catch the flicker of shock that flashes across his face before he masks it with a smooth smile. He’s quick—too quick—to change the atmosphere.“Oh, buddy, you’re here.” He walks out from behind his desk, all casual. “So, how was your visit to Carl Edward? Hmmm, I’m sure now he’ll be scared to ever mess with you again. I know just how to deal with dudes like him. Dudes like him are careful about letting their personal aff
Isabel’s POVLife has finally settled back into its usual rhythm. The buzz around the upcoming collection launch is louder than ever, and work keeps me occupied. Everything is back to normal—or at least, it should be.But something feels off.Eva Langley.Her confession video had cleared the air, but it wasn’t enough. The damage she caused… the lives she tried to ruin—it can’t just be brushed aside. She needs to be held accountable. She needs to pay. But she’s nowhere to be found. Ever since the video surfaced, she’s vanished.The door to my office swings open, pulling me from my thoughts. I look up—only to see Aria standing there.Shock stills me. “Aria?”She just got out of the hospital. Shouldn’t she be resting?I’m already on my feet, gesturing to the chair. “I can’t believe you. You should be resting, so why did you come all the way here?”Aria smiles, a light chuckle escaping her lips. “You talk as if I’ve broken a leg.”I huff at her humor, the tension lifting slightly, if only
Anonymous POVI slam my hand against the table, the sharp crack slicing through the silence like a whip.“You’re all idiots. A bunch of useless idiots.” My voice is cold, controlled, but the frustration simmering beneath it is lethal.No one speaks. No one even breathes too loudly. They know better.I exhale slowly, dragging my gaze over them like a blade. My eyes land on one of my men—stiff, shoulders squared, pretending he isn’t about to piss himself.“You.” My voice drops, quiet but deadly. “You never complete your tasks. Always excuses.”He flinches. Doesn’t dare speak.I take a step toward him, watching a bead of sweat roll down his temple. “You had your chance at the cemetery,” I say, voice smooth, almost conversational. “And what did you do? You came back whining about Alex.” I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Tell me, how?”He swallows thickly, but I don’t have the patience for his pathetic stammering.I shift my gaze. Eva.She’s crouched by the side, fidgeting like a scared
Isabel’s POVIt’s been a few days since Eva’s confession video was released, and the internet hasn’t stopped buzzing about it. People are shocked—outraged, even—at the lengths she went to just because she was paid to ruin someone’s life. But the real question remains: who paid her? The video never mentioned a name. Was she protecting someone, or was this just another attempt to manipulate the narrative and divert attention from herself? No one has been able to find her since the video surfaced, and that only makes everything more suspicious.I sigh, shaking my head as I pass by my mother’s room. But then, a strange sound stops me in my tracks. Muffled, restless movements. A whimper. My chest tightens.Without thinking, I push the door open and rush inside.My mother is trembling, her body jerking slightly as if caught in a nightmare. Her brows are deeply furrowed, her lips parting as she mumbles something I can’t understand. Her fingers clench at the sheets, twisting them tightly in h