Isabel’s POVI swing slowly in my chair, letting the motion soothe me as I gaze out of my office window, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Today is supposed to be a special day—her birthday. But she’s not here anymore. She’s gone. Six feet below the ground. She’d sacrificed herself to make sure I was safe, to give me a chance to live. Memories flash before me—of her laughter filling the house, her warm smile, her comforting arms. For a moment, I’m pulled back into those happy days, feeling that old familiar love.A soft knock on the door pulls me back to the present. I glance up to see Christine entering the room, her expression composed, yet there’s a sense of urgency in her steps. She places an iPad on my desk, clearing her throat. “Miss Aria won’t be able to make it to the meeting today. She sent over some photos of the designs you both were discussing last time,” she explains, her voice respectful.I raise an eyebrow, silently prompting her for more clarification
Alexander’s POVI sit in my car a few miles from the LM Group building, staring blankly at the road ahead. I can’t believe I’m here again, caught up in this madness.I’d accepted long ago to let it go—that Claire Montgomery isn’t Isabel. But today, Collins’ question keeps gnawing at me, refusing to let me move on.“What will you do if Claire happens to be the real Isabel we thought died five years ago?”It wasn’t just a casual question. No, there was something in his tone, something that said he knew more than he was letting on.Collins is my friend, and I’ve known him long enough to sense when he’s hinting at something.Now, here I am, clutching the steering wheel and tapping my fingers against it, the other hand pressed hard against my temple as I think about the consequences of what I’m about to do.I take a deep breath, muttering to myself, “Screw it. I don’t care. Today, I’m getting to the bottom of this. No more lies.”Just as I’m about to start the engine and move closer to the
Isabel’s POVMy legs shake as I crawl back, my breath hitching as the masked figure inches closer. The sight of him sends a violent shudder through me. It’s him. The man from the foundation’s party. The one who attacked me that night, who nearly ended my life.How? How is he here? How did he find me?My pulse pounds against my ribs, and fear coils tightly around my chest. How is he able to get close to me? The thought makes my stomach drop.I fix my eyes on him, desperate to make sense of this, to find any crack in the terror consuming me. My breath is shallow, each inhale feeling like a battle against the panic rising in my throat. I need to hear his voice. I need to know why he’s here.“Why?” My voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. “What do you want from me?”No response. His silence is suffocating.I swallow hard, steadying my gaze on him, though my fingers dig into the dirt as I inch backward. If I keep him talking, if I can get him to say something, maybe—just maybe—I can get
Isabel’s povThe hospital’s bright lights feel harsh, unforgiving as we leave the ER, a fresh bandage wrapped around Alexander’s arm.We find ourselves in a small coffee shop within the building. I stare blankly at the coffee in front of me, tracing the rim of the cup. Words seem to escape me, questions I have don’t make it past my lips.The silence stretches until, finally, I say, “Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper, but as the words leave my mouth, I feel a weight lift. “Thank you for saving me. Again.” My heart still pounds in my chest, the adrenaline slowly fading, leaving behind a strange mixture of gratitude and confusion. I should feel relieved, but instead, there’s an unsettled ache that creeps into my bones. Why is this so hard to process? Why does everything feel so complicated now?I sink into my chair, trying to ignore the growing tension inside me, the unanswered questions swirling around us.Alexander leans forward, his gaze intense, but I cut him off. “Last time, you sa
Alexander’s POVI watch her leave, my heart hammering as frustration builds inside me. This wasn’t what I wanted to say. Damn it Alexander, why did you have to ruin it all? She’s alive—she’s here—and all I could do was drive her further away.I feel my jaw clench tightly, my foot tapping against the floor as I fight the urge to follow her, to call her back and make her see what I can’t even put into words. But another part of me holds me back, cautioning me to let it go, to just leave things as they are.Then, her words play in my mind again, her voice taunting me. “I can say whatever I want?” The audacity of it. I scoff, my anger flaring up like a firestorm inside me. So, she really doesn’t regret it? Even after everything? After what I saw—the photos of her in bed with another man. I can’t believe this. How could she throw that in my face like it was nothing?And what the hell did she mean by “it doesn’t matter?” Is that her way of telling me she’ll never be affected by my words? Th
Alexander’s POVI arrive at the office earlier than usual, pushing through the revolving doors and heading straight for my floor. There’s no time to waste today. I need to get through the pile of meetings lined up. The weight of Sophia’s expectant face still lingers, and I can’t afford to disappoint her—or anyone else—today.After wrapping up my first meeting, I check the time and nod to myself. I need to hurry up with the rest. I’ve made a promise, and I can’t let anything get in the way of that.Back at my desk, a report waits for me. I sink into my chair, flipping through the pages, my lips curving into a rare smile. The numbers are good—better than good. Business has seen a significant uptick over the past quarter, and the company is thriving. The upward trend on the charts is like a breath of fresh air. My shoulders relax for the first time in weeks, a slow smile spreading across my face as I travel the steady rise on the graph. I lean back in my chair, fingers tapping lightly o
Isabel’s POVI wake with a start, my breath catching as yesterday’s memories rush back. The masked figure, the flash of a knife, and the panic clawing up my throat. Who could have attacked me again? Could all this be connected to the attack from five years ago—the night my whole world changed? I push the thought away, flipping my hair over one shoulder, my fingers shaking slightly as I cup my face in my palm. My mind is a whirlpool of questions and half-formed fears. Aside from my family, Roy and Aria, no one else knows that I’m Isabel. No one.Except… Well, now Alexander knows. But would he go that far? Does he hate me that much that he’d be so happy to have me gone? I shake my head, remembering how he’s also saved me. But a thought lingers, nagging at the edges of my mind. What if this is more than a coincidence? What if he’s been watching me, waiting for the right moment to step in—not as a hero, but as someone pulling the strings all along?I tilt my head to the side. Could this
Isabel’s POVScarlett twirls in her pale pink tulle dress, her laughter ringing through the room. “Do I look like a princess, Mommy?” she asks, her eyes sparkling. The rhinestones on her dress catch the light, making her look every bit the star she dreams of being.“You look more than a princess, sweetheart. You’re a queen,” I reply, adjusting her bow. Sterling stands quietly, his soft cream shirt and Beige pants perfectly tailored. His little hands are clasped in front of him, his expression calm. My gentle boy, so different from his sister, yet a perfect counterbalance to her boundless energy.I smooth my crimson satin gown, the fabric cool against my skin. The sleek design hugs my figure, the slit at the side allowing just enough movement to stride gracefully. My diamond earrings sparkle subtly, a reflection of the Montgomery elegance. Aurora is beside me, dressed in a tailored emerald green sheath dress that complements her gold hair. She leans down, helping Scarlett adjust her s
Isabel’s POV“Ma’am, are you sure about this?”Christine’s voice cuts through the stillness of my office, careful yet firm. I pause mid-motion, my fingers grazing the edge of my desk as my mind momentarily drifts.I had given her the instruction earlier. A video will be going up soon—a direct response to Cynthia’s pathetic attempt to smear my name. She started this war, going public and painting me as some villain. The hell with her.I never intended for things to escalate this far. Initially, all I wanted was to rub it in their faces—how it feels to have someone more powerful breathing down their necks, disrupting their perfect little world. To make their marriage a sweet, bitter hell. Because they both deserved it. After everything they had done, this was the least of what they should suffer.But I was too calm about it. Too merciful.Cynthia has always loved to bark. Loud, persistent, desperate for attention. But now… now I’ll show her what happens when you bark without the bite to
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