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
Alexander’s POVCollins leans back, stretching his arms with a relaxed grin. “Glad I don’t have any commitments today,” he says, his tone light and easy. “So I can watch your little girl perform.” There’s a note of warmth in his voice, a genuine happiness that I can’t ignore.I glance at him, catching the glow of contentment on his face. Collins has always been good with Sophia, treating her like his own. I guess that’s how it goes when you’re friends for as long as we’ve been. I shift my focus back to the road and give him a quick smile. “I know, right? You seem even happier than I am.” We both chuckle, and the sound is a welcome distraction from the nerves brewing in my stomach.“Thanks for sticking around, buddy,” I say, relief mingling with the gratitude in my voice. “The meetings had me hooked, but I’m glad I was able to round up.” I check my watch and feel a wave of anxiety. “I hope it hasn’t started yet. This event is so important to Sophia, and I don’t want to miss it like I d
Isabel’s POVI watch as Alexander walks away, Cynthia’s arm entwined with his, comfortable, at ease. My chest tightens with a dull ache. What did I expect? Some foolish part of me years ago believed I was the one he wanted—someone he’d choose, again and again.But now I know better.Just as they move inside, I catch Collins falling back a few paces, his gaze lingering on Aria. There’s a flicker of something I can’t quite name—warmth, curiosity, maybe even longing—in the way he watches her. When Aria looks up and meets his eyes, she smiles, a soft, hesitant curve on her lips that hints at something deeper, something unspoken between them.My mind flickers back to when I first noticed them together. At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it—just a passing glance, a brief moment. But now, seeing this, I realize there’s more to it.How long has this been going on? How did I not see it before?Collins was always entangled in my marriage with Alexander, observing from the sidelines, his quie
Isabel’s POVThe auditorium hums with quiet anticipation, the tension in the air thicker than it should be for a children’s event. But this is not just any school gathering—it’s a performance showcase at one of LA’s most prestigious early childhood academies. Every parent here knows that their child’s recognition isn’t just about talent; it’s about status.The stage is framed by velvet curtains, the soft glow of warm lights making it feel grand. The children, dressed in their best, sit neatly in rows, their small faces bright with excitement and nerves. Scarlett and Sterling performed a heartfelt poem earlier, their voices clear and confident, and I couldn’t have been prouder.At the judges’ table, a tall, elegant woman leans toward her colleagues in whispered discussion. The murmurs of the audience fade as she finally rises and steps onto the stage, the click of her heels sharp against the polished floor.“Thank you all for being here today,” she begins, her voice carrying easily. “E
Alexander’s POVSophia beams as she holds up her award, but I can see it—the hollow look behind her smile, the way her shoulders slump ever so slightly despite the bright lights and applause. She’s always dreamed of winning, of being the star, yet now that she’s here, the excitement doesn’t seem to reach her eyes. The crowd’s cheers die down as Isabel and Roy step onto the stage, radiant and confident, their faces practically glowing with pride.The camera flashes catch them from every angle—Isabel’s eyes alight with joy, her hand on Roy’s arm, his expression full of warmth as they stand close to the kids. They look like a scene from a picture-perfect movie, the kind where the family radiates love and unity.Even the murmur in the crowd agrees, snippets of conversation floating around me—“Is that their father?” “They look like they walked out of a fairytale.” “What a beautiful family.”I can’t stand it. Not a second more. I feel fury boiling up inside of me—how dare they look so… perf
Isabel’s POVI smooth my hand over the silk fabric hugging my body, taking in the sight of myself in the mirror. A slow, calculating smile tugs at my lips. “Today,” I murmur to my reflection, “I’m going to reveal a part of me Cynthia never knew about. A part I placed in her life for a moment exactly like this.”My fingers graze the velvet box on the vanity, lifting it to reveal a set of emerald-encrusted earrings—bold, elegant, quiet power. As I slip them on, I think of her. I know how much of a big spender Cynthia is. Shopping is her escape when the walls start to close in, when the guilt begins to whisper. But how will it feel when she finally discovers the mastermind behind the elite group she so shamelessly parades around in? The very empire she thought was her playground—mine.Just as I pick up my bracelet, the door bursts open.“Well, well…” Aurora says, arms crossed, eyes twinkling. “I guess today’s the day. I’ve been waiting for this moment forever. Do you know how annoying it
Cynthia’s POVThe glow of the TV screen is the first thing I see when I wake up. The news stares back at me, unrelenting. The same interview that has been flooding the internet since yesterday plays on loop, as if daring me to react.I sit up slowly, pulling my knees to my stomach. My fingers thread through my hair, pushing it back as I take a deep breath. But the words keep replaying, burning themselves into my mind.“It’s true that my daughter Claire is also known as Isabel—the name she has been known for since she was separated from us. We decided to hide the fact that she’s Isabel for her safety.”Victoria Montgomery’s voice feels distant, but it still hits me like a blade.I throw the covers aside, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. My throat feels dry, my chest tightening with something I refuse to name. I reach for the glass pitcher on the nightstand, pouring water into a glass with unsteady hands. The water swirls as I lift it to my lips and down it in one swift gulp,
Isabel’s POVI glance down at my phone again, rereading the message.Don’t worry about picking up the kids, I already got them. Just hurry up to Rosewood Terrace.My brows pull together. Why would Mom want me to hurry up to her? A quiet sense of unease stirs in my chest. I hope there’s nothing wrong. I thought she was still in the middle of that interview?“Change of plans,” I say, breaking the silence. Christine looks over at me, but I don’t elaborate, and she doesn’t push.Travis nods, adjusting his grip on the wheel as he accelerates toward the given location. The hum of the car fills the space, but my mind is restless, running through possibilities.Soon, we pull up to Rosewood Terrace. I take in the surroundings—the warm glow of string lights draped over the outdoor space, the scent of fresh roses lingering in the crisp evening air. There’s an intimacy to the atmosphere, something quiet yet deliberate.Stepping out, I spot her. “Mom.” My voice carries a hint of urgency as I walk
Isabel’s POVI step into the newly built condo, my heels clicking against the polished marble floors. The scent of fresh paint and new beginnings lingers in the air, but all I can think about is the past.This place was once nothing but a blueprint, an idea buried under countless arguments and power struggles with Alexander. The battles over design choices, the endless boardroom meetings, the silent wars we waged in between. I still remember the night before the launch party, standing on the balcony, exhausted yet victorious, knowing that despite everything, I had left my mark on this building. And now, here I am again—without him, but still standing.Christine walks beside me, flipping through her tablet, reading out company updates as we move through the hallways. Her voice is a distant hum in my ears until something—someone—catches my eye.A figure. A fleeting glimpse. Familiar.My breath catches as I turn sharply, my gaze locking onto the spot where I swear I just saw her. Aurora.
Cynthia’s POVThe words hit me harder than I expect. For a second, I don’t just freeze—I fold inward. Because I remember.God. That night.The message did go through.Back then, I had told myself it didn’t. I’d convinced myself I never hit send, or maybe that it landed in a void, unread, unseen. But hearing those exact words repeated now—my words—I know there’s no denying it anymore.“Hi, this is Cynthia Castillo. Can we meet?”I had typed it after one too many glasses of wine, my nerves on fire from Sabrina’s constant nudging. She’d kept insisting Alexander connect with Claire Montgomery—for some business shit, something about how her influence could open doors or elevate their image. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to see what kind of woman this Claire really was. So I sent that message. From my bedroom. Alone, tipsy, and stupid.When nothing came, I let myself believe it was a mistake I’d gotten away with. But now…Hearing her repeat it, in this room, in front of everyone—Shame
Isabel’s POVSilence. Heavy. Suffocating.Cynthia’s eyes lock onto mine, dark and brimming with something between fury and disbelief. The weight of Robert’s words still lingers in the air, thick as smoke, curling around the room and seeping into every crack of tension. I watch as her lips part, then press together—like she’s trying to swallow the impossible.Then, she laughs. A hollow, humorless sound. Sharp. Cold.“You’re joking, right?”Her voice carries a brittle edge, like a glass just before it shatters. But there’s no amusement in her expression. Only the slight tremor in her fingers betrays the frustration simmering beneath her carefully built walls.Robert doesn’t answer. Instead, he steps forward, measured and unshaken, before dropping the file right in front of her. The sound echoes, a dull thud that cuts through the air like a final verdict.Cynthia’s gaze flickers downward. Her grip tightens around the edge of the file as her eyes scan the words, absorbing the reality of w
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