Isabel’s POVThe moment I open my eyes, the weight of yesterday crashes down on me. The school event was supposed to be a celebration, but instead, it became a battlefield, thanks to Sophia and Scarlett. My head pounds as the scene replays in my mind: Sophia shoving Scarlett, Scarlett retaliating, and Alexander stepping in to demand Scarlett apologize. A scoff escapes my lips, bitterness tightening my chest. Seriously? Even when Sophia started it, he still sided with her? Is that the kind of father he is? Is that how he raises his child—to believe she can do no wrong?My eyes widen at the thought, and my pulse quickens. Glad he’s nowhere near my children. If he were, they’d grow up demanding, controlling, and belittling others just like him, thinking the world revolves around them because they’re dripping in wealth. I push my hair back, exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The tension in my shoulders barely eases as Roy’s voice from last night surfaces in my thoughts.
Isabel’s POVMy heels click sharply against the polished tiles as I stride into the shooting scene, commanding attention without a word. Aurora trails behind, her steps lighter but equally poised. Heads turn as we pass, and the air shifts, a ripple of greetings and smiles flowing through the crew.“Good morning, ma’am.”“Welcome, Ms. Montgomery.”They nod and smile, but something feels… off. There’s a tension, a subtle hum of unease in the air. Murmurs ripple like a secret thread weaving through the room. I catch fleeting glances, the way their eyes dart back to their phones, then quickly flick up to meet mine before they school their features into polite expressions.I stop, crossing my arms, my gaze narrowing as I glance at Aurora. She shrugs nonchalantly, feigning ignorance. “Don’t look at me,” her expression says.Flipping my hair to the side, I turn back to the crew. “Is there something I need to know?” My voice cuts through the air, calm but commanding.They fidget, exchanging u
Isabel’s POVLooking at Nadia, I can tell she’s deeply worried about something. Her grip on the clipboard is tight, her expression pinched with stress.“I’ll be right back,” I say, excusing myself from Roy and Aurora. Nadia follows me as I step aside, already bracing myself for whatever bad news she’s about to deliver.When we reach the corner, I turn to face her. “What’s wrong?”She exhales, shifting uncomfortably. “The main models for the shoot—both of them—aren’t coming. Last-minute emergency.”My stomach drops. “Both?”She nods grimly. “The female lead model canceled first, and then her male counterpart followed. I reached out to the agency, but they don’t have replacements available today.”I pinch the bridge of my nose, swallowing the frustration rising in my throat. The main models were supposed to be the face of this collection—the ones leading the campaign. Without them, the entire vision we planned is compromised.“And you’re just telling me this now?” I ask, keeping my voic
Isabel’s POVI take a deep breath, my shoulders rising high as I glance at Aurora. It’s a subtle signal—I had no idea this was coming. She reads the unspoken message in my eyes, but her face stays unreadable.Turning to face Richard, I manage to say, “Wow, I didn’t know you model.”His face softens, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He glances at Aurora, but she doesn’t flinch, her expression neutral.“Oh, it’s just a side gig. Something to mix things up now and then.” he says, his voice casual yet confident, as if he’s used to keeping things light.I feel my shoulders drop, my arms folding instinctively across my chest. “Right. I see.” My voice is even, but inside, the awkwardness churns. How do I navigate through this?The silence stretches, thick with unspoken tension. Richard clears his throat, breaking the stillness. “So, can we begin?” His gaze darts around until it locks briefly with Roy’s. Richard chuckles softly, a smile playing on his lips, before looking away
Isabel’s POVIt’s been days since the shoot, and today’s meeting with the committee in charge of our fashion line’s new collection launch has finally wrapped up. I slip into the backseat of the car, exhaling softly as I lean into the leather seat. Travis pulls away from the building, the tinted windows reflecting the city’s skyline as we head toward LM Group’s headquarters. Moments later, the car rolls to a stop at the entrance, and I step out, smoothing the crease on my dress. Christine follows closely behind, her heels clicking against the pavement. As we make our way through the glass doors, the cool air inside brushes against my skin. The marble-floored lobby stretches ahead, modern chandeliers casting a warm glow. My steps are steady as I head toward the elevator, but Christine closes the gap between us and leans in, her voice a whisper.“Ma’am, Sir Carl Edwards is in the waiting room.”I pause mid-step, his name ringing through my mind. A slow, knowing smile tugs at my lips. So
Isabel’s POVAlexander strides in, frustration carved into his features. Christine rushes in after him, trying to stop him, her expression tight with unease. “Sir, I told you—“But he’s already inside, his stormy gaze flicking between Carl and me. I relax my shoulders, turning toward him with quiet amusement. He looks ready to burst at any moment, and it’s almost entertaining. I catch Christine’s gaze and give her a curt nod. It’s fine.Alexander scoffs, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t realize your office had turned into a home for strays.” His voice is laced with something sharp, something simmering just beneath the surface.Carl smirks, rising from his seat. “That’s the thing about business, Alexander. The best opportunities tend to find their way home.” His tone is light, but there’s no mistaking the underlying edge.I sense the flicker of unease in Alexander, and I savor it. I stand, crossing my arms over my chest. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” I say smoothly. “B
Alexander’s POVThe sight in front of me stirs something deep and unwelcome.Carl. Isabel. Together.Not just discussing business, but enjoying each other’s company, the kind of ease that speaks of familiarity, of something beyond mere negotiations. I freeze at the threshold, my mind stumbling for a second—before reality snaps back with a sharp, bitter edge.So, it’s true.I scoff, sliding my hands into my pockets, masking the tightness in my chest. “Didn’t realize your office had turned into a home for strays.” My voice is calm, laced with indifference, but the words are aimed directly at Carl. A reminder that no matter what he’s doing here, no matter how much he tries to insert himself into Isabel’s world, he’ll never be me.Carl smirks as he rises to his feet, unbothered. “That’s the thing about business, Alexander.” His voice is smooth, measured, with that infuriating edge of self-assurance. “The best opportunities tend to find their way home.”I catch the meaning behind his words
Alexander’s POVI sit in the dimly lit lounge of my family’s hotel, the only place that has ever felt like a sanctuary. The air is thick with the scent of aged whiskey and polished wood, and the low hum of jazz plays in the background. Here, I can breathe—at least, I used to.I gulp down my drink, the burn trailing down my throat before I drop the glass onto the table with a loud thud. It echoes in the silence, but nothing drowns out the memories flooding my mind. Isabel’s face. The way she ignored my presence, focusing on Carl like I wasn’t even there. The way she smiled when she admitted to trying to sabotage the condo project by requesting the material cancellation.I don’t even know her anymore.They say people change when they have money, but maybe it’s not just that. Maybe she found something better—something worth throwing everything we once had away.I take another long gulp, but it does nothing to dull the ache in my chest. It’s ridiculous, really. Like some adolescent boy nu
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