Alexander’s POVI walk to my mother’s study room, a place where she summons me whenever she has some serious discussion to do. “I’m sure you must have heard about the news,” she began, her voice tinged with urgency. “The Montgomerys are making waves, and this is our chance. Her eyes flicker with something—maybe determination, maybe fear. Something I can’t quite grasp. “We need them on our side, before other people do. The Montgomerys are extremely wealthy and having them on board is going to be great. Their investment could be a game-changer, especially with the current crises we’re facing.” I nod, already running the scenarios through my head, but before I could respond, Cynthia stride into the room, her gaze shifting between Sabrina and me. “Is it just business, or is there something more to this?” She asked, her tone laced with a hint of jealousy.Her question dropped like a stone, and the atmosphere in the room became thick with tension. My mom’s eyes widened in disbelief and
Alexander’s POVI stare out of the office window, watching as the sun dips lower on the horizon. It’s hard to believe how fast the day has slipped through my fingers, leaving me with nothing but this gnawing sense of exhaustion. Everything feels heavy—my shoulders ache with the weight of the business, the mess at home, and everything else that’s been spiraling out of control. It’s as if I’m standing in the center of a storm, unable to catch my breath.Just then, my phone rings, breaking through the haze. Collins’ name flashes on the screen. I pick up, feeling a strange mix of relief and dread.“Hey, Alex, busy?” His voice is casual, but I can hear something underneath—something tired, maybe even desperate. “Let’s meet at the lounge.”I can’t say no. Collins has always been there for me, through every storm and every mistake, always ready with a word of advice or a quiet moment over a drink. Maybe now, it’s time for me to be there for him too.“Sure,” I say, pushing the exhaustion as
Alexander’s POVI jolted awake, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to make sense of the room around me.For a brief, terrifying moment, I thought I was back in my own bedroom. I feel cold creeping up my spine, dragging with the horror that something terrible might have happened again! I blinked my eyes, and soon the panic began to subside. This isn’t my room.The light is different, softer, and the air smells faintly of something quite familiar. I rub my temples, trying to ease the remnants of the nightmare. Relief washing over me.“Hey! You’re up.” Collins’ voice brakes through the haze, pulling me back to reality. I rub my eyes, trying to get his gaze. He stood at the door, a cup of coffee in his hand, his usual easygoing smile on his face. “Here’s a cup of coffee to help you wake up. I felt your plea, so I just took a room in your hotel to help you relax instead.”I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, nodding as I took the cup from him. “Yeah, that’s fair. Thanks
Isabel’s POVToday makes it five years since the incident took place. Since her death. I can still see her eyes when she looked at me, telling me not to say a word. She’d accepted she was Isabel when those men heavily loaded with “Arms” came to our house, looking for me. One thing is for sure, they were after me. But who could it be that sent them to me and wanted to have me killed? She was tortured, gosh! Memories of that day send a cold spine down my veins. I could have died. I could have lost my babies.I touch my cheek, remembering the sharp, jarring slap given to me by those men when I tried stopping them. If slaps could reset the brain, then that could. I lost balance, slamming my head against the edge of the cupboard. It was as if the world tilted, and everything blurred into one indistinguishable mess. That moment, I’d felt darkness creeping in, closing around me, like “the I’m going away feeling.” And by the time I was able to gain a little consciousness, all I saw was
Alexander’s POVI finally arrived home, still feeling the weight of everything that has happened. “Where have you been? You weren’t home last night, your phone switched off, and no one could get to you.” Cynthia asked, the sound of her voice snapping me back to reality, a reality I wished I could escape from. Her tone laced with fury, though her demeanor remained unsettling calm. I could see fire in her eyes, barely restrained. I take a deep sigh. Of all people, she’s the least person I'll ever want to talk to right now. I struggle with my feet, the weight of everything crushing on me, pressing down on my shoulders, making it hard to even lift my head.My body—it felt heavy, like I was dragging my own shadow through molasses.“Alexander! You’re not saying anything.” Cynthia gnarls. I raised my head to meet her gaze, but my brain keeps conjuring images of Isabel, her face, her scent. It’s like she’s just here. I could swear I’d seen her, just yesterday, sitting in one of those boo
Isabel’s POVSoon, Roy pulled the car into the driveway. I look at the familiar sight of our mansion, it's a sense of relief. The grand facade and the lush landscaping are a comfort reminder of home. “Isabel, are you sure you’re okay?.” He says, turning to me with a concerning expression. “Should we go to the hospital?”I shook my head, offering a reassuring smile. “No, Roy, it’s okay. I just need to be home. I’ll be fine.”He nods, still clearly worried. I made my way to the familiar warmth of the foyer, the rich textures surrounding me were like a soft whisper of reassurance. This is home—a haven where the world feels distant and safe.As I sank into the plush couch inside, I’m met by a loud, piercing scream that echoed through the house. For a moment, my heart freezes, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. I exchanged a worried glance with Roy, and without hesitation, we rushed towards the source of the noise.Getting closer, more screams were heard, and my heart pounded loudly agai
Alexander POVSusan knocked softly before entering, the sound barely registering over the storm of thoughts swirling in my head. I didn’t even look up when she stepped into my office, too focused on the spreadsheet and projections that weren’t making any sense. But I knew. I knew the moment she came in that something was wrong. “Sir,” she began, her voice hesitant, as if she could sense the weight of what’s coming next. She places a thick report in front of me, her hand trembling slightly. “The investors… they’ve decided to completely back out.” My jaw clenched instinctively, the muscles in my face tightening as I finally looked up. “Why?” The question came out harsher than I intended, but I didn't care. She swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortable. “They don’t want to take the risk, especially with the recent performance and stock…” her voice trailed off, but the damage has already been done. Susan stood there, quiet, waiting for the inevitable outburst thatThe tension in the ro
Isabel’s POVI hear a voice, persistent but little, “mommy, wake up! Let’s go to the mall today!” Argh! I exclaimed silently. I keep hearing these two, talk in my dream. I guess that’s what motherhood is about right?I keep my eyes shut, desperately trying to block out the light filtering through the curtains. A small thug on my arm bringing me to reality. Wait! I wasn’t dreaming? I can hear their voices, almost loud and clear. It’s Scarlett and Sterling. “Mommy, let’s go to the mall today, please,” Scarlett said, followed by another, “Can we please go, Mommy? You promised!” Sterling piped up, his voice full of that unmistakable excitement.Today was supposed to be my day off, Just one day to relax… but it seems these little ones have decided otherwise. I tried to maneuver, rolling to my side and burying my face into the pillow, mumbling, “Maybe later, let mummy rest a bit more.” But they weren’t having it. Persistent as ever, they clambered into the bed, bouncing around me like t
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
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