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
Aria’s POVI wake up with a pounding headache, the kind that makes me want to bury myself under the covers and disappear. I press my fingers against my temples, my hand ruffling through my hair as I try to ground myself.Coffee—yeah, I need coffee. Something strong enough to stop the room from spinning.My eyes finally crack open, and I’m hit by the unfamiliar sight of the room around me. It’s… luxurious. Like the kind of place you see in ads, not where I’d ever find myself on a regular morning.The bedding’s crisp and thick, the air scented faintly of cedar and linen. There’s a softness to everything, even in the light filtering through the heavy curtains.For a second, I just blink, trying to let it all sink in, wondering how I even got here.Then the fog in my head starts to lift. Little fragments of last night come together: the Castillo building, a crowded bar, way too many shots… and him.I sit up quickly, clutching my head as the rush of motion makes it throb even harder. I was
Isabel’s POV“Change that dress, you look awful in it.” Alexander said in a commanding tone.The dress, a red revealing short gown, which hugged my curves, featuring a daring plunging neckline.Glancing through myself and looking back at the mirror, I asked, “what’s wrong with my dress, not like it’s the first time am wearing it.”“I don’t have to give you any explanation or talk further on this, just change it like I said!” He retorted.His tone is cold, but still handsome as ever.He stood at an imposing 6’3”, his height adding to his commanding presence.Alexander used to love me. I want to believe so.He used to be a loving and doting husband. Even though there’s a side of him that I’m yet to understand. He’s sometimes aggressive, tends to be controlling and commanding.I’ve tried to talk to him, but it always ends in arguments, never accepting the fact that he has an issue.It has just been messy.My once loving husband has turned to a stranger.I couldn't even break the news of
Alexander’s POVI sit in my office, my gaze fixed through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows, beyond which the cityscape stretched out in a mosaic of bustling life.It gnawed on me, a memory of my upbringing which I think is affecting my relationship with Isabel.While growing up, I had always seen my mum, Sabrina, command my father, Williams, to do anything she wanted, because she was making more money than him. And I had thought that’s the norm.Having more money than your partner in marriage means you call the shot. You’re in control of whatever goes on or happens in your home. Why would Isabel think I love her less simply because I commented on her dress? I worked hard proving to my mother that I’m capable of running the company, making lots of money, so I won’t have to be like my dad when married.Gosh! I pace my office, running my hands through my hair. I hate it when Isabel gives me those looks, with her shimmering silver gray eyes, which send down a cold shiver down my
Isabel’s POVmy eyes opened to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the room curtains.The unfamiliar ceiling of the room came into focus.Where am I? I asked myself, feeling a slight ache.I groaned softly, pressing a hand on my temple as I tried to piece together the fragments of last night. I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to remember how I got here.What happened? I thought to myself, anxiety bubbling as I pushed myself to sit up.I scanned the room, searching for any clues that might jog my memory, but everything looked untouched, pristine, almost sterile.The mirror across the room caught my eye.Slowly, I stood, wrapping a sheet around me as I walked over.My reflection looking back at me- disheveled hair, makeup smudged.My eyes wide with confusion and fear.I noticed a faint bruise on my shoulder, but there’s no pain, just the unsettling sense of not knowing how it got there.I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.I need to figure this out, to make sense
Isabel’s POVWalking through the hallway of the King’s Mansion, I feel sad.The hallway Furnished with High ceilings adorned with intricate moldings that creates an aura of spaciousness. The polished marble floors gleam under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. One can feel the air filled with a subtle scent of fresh flowers.But I sense tension as I walk through the hallway.Why is everywhere so quiet?I thought to myself.Two steps into the big and exotic living room, I was shocked to see Alexander sitting in one of antique furniture pieces near the window.His gaze feels so cold.I can tell he’s mad. Ranging with anger, but trying to keep his cool.“You’re finally home.” He says, giving an icy demeanor.I hesitated.Unable to say anything for a moment. Puzzled and surprised as it’s been a while since Alexander was home by this time of the day.He’s either already at the office, or he traveled for a business trip from work. While I only got to know about it from his assistant,
Alexander’s POVAs the alcohol wore off, reality seeped in.I find myself staring at the ceiling, the weight of my actions settling heavily on my chest.What have I done? I say, covering my face with my hands.My heart is beating inside my chest.Last night was I and Isabel’s anniversary, and instead of spending the night with her, I’m here with her best friend!My eyes widened.Not when I have decided to let go of our marriage. There is no point in celebrating an anniversary. I thought to myself, trying to escape the weight of what feels so heavy to accept.But I shouldn’t have done this.I turned to look at Cynthia, now sleeping beside me, and I felt a pang of regret.Did I really do this?My thoughts were interrupted when Cynthia rolled, placing her hand round my body.I immediately swung it off, feeling irritated by her touch.“What’s it Alexander?” She says, her voice shaky.“You can’t seriously treat me this way, after what happened between us last night.” She ventured out, a f
Aria’s POVI wake up with a pounding headache, the kind that makes me want to bury myself under the covers and disappear. I press my fingers against my temples, my hand ruffling through my hair as I try to ground myself.Coffee—yeah, I need coffee. Something strong enough to stop the room from spinning.My eyes finally crack open, and I’m hit by the unfamiliar sight of the room around me. It’s… luxurious. Like the kind of place you see in ads, not where I’d ever find myself on a regular morning.The bedding’s crisp and thick, the air scented faintly of cedar and linen. There’s a softness to everything, even in the light filtering through the heavy curtains.For a second, I just blink, trying to let it all sink in, wondering how I even got here.Then the fog in my head starts to lift. Little fragments of last night come together: the Castillo building, a crowded bar, way too many shots… and him.I sit up quickly, clutching my head as the rush of motion makes it throb even harder. I was
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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