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
Alexander’s POVThe man in a fitted charcoal grey blazer over a crisp white shirt and dark jeans. His demeanor calm and composed, turns to the boy beside her and asked, “And what flavor would you like, champ? Today’s your treat, and after this, we’ll get your toy and have some more fun.”They had to be twins—though not identical, but with a striking resemblance. Such a big family, I thought. The man could pass for their Dad, even though there isn’t any resemblance with him.I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had seen him before. There’s something familiar about his face, but I can’t quite place it. I keep staring, trying to connect the dots, but my mind is a drawing blanks. I’ve met a lot of people in my life, especially in business, so maybe I’m just confusing him with someone else. If we’ve met before, it must have been at one of those corporate events. Now we find a seat, directly across from them. Sophia is sitting next to me with her Vanilla ice cream, but my eyes keep drifting
Isabel’s POVI walk through the glossy marbled floors of the King’s Empire building, each step echoing with purpose. The air is thick with quiet power—assistants darting between elevators, phones ringing in clipped urgency, polished shoes tapping rhythmically against glass floors. But none of it touches me. My focus is razor-sharp.Strike when the iron is hot.Perfect timing isn’t just a tactic—it’s an art.And right now? The fire’s raging.I don’t stop to greet anyone. I don’t pause when heads turn. I know where I’m going.Alexander’s office.When I reach the door, I don’t knock. I push it open with a practiced ease. Bold. Unapologetic.His face lifts from the document he’s reading, surprise—or is that shock?—etching deep into his features. Understandable. I’m not the type to show up uninvited. But today?Today, I’ll bend the rules.If only to twist the reaction I want out of him.He stands slowly, like a lion woken from his throne, cautious but alert. I wrap my arms around my chest,
Isabel’s POV I’m in the middle of a meeting with the team, my fingers tapping lightly against the polished table surface as voices buzz around me. But my mind… my mind drifts elsewhere. It drifts back to that moment at The Elites, to Cynthia’s face—her expression shifting like crashing waves. Shock. Anger. Confusion. Disbelief.The thrill of it makes me scoff under my breath, an involuntary laugh slipping through. A few heads snap in my direction. I quickly adjust in my seat, placing my hand over my lips like I’m clearing my throat. Too late.“Ma’am?” one of the team leads leans in, cautious but direct. “What are we going to do about the event location? Time’s running out. As of now, we still don’t have a confirmed venue.”I nod, slow and thoughtful. Their concern is valid. “We were supposed to partner with The Regency,” I say, voice calm but clipped. “Carl turned us down at the last minute.” My jaw tenses slightly. “Now, it’s either we go back to partnering with The King’s… or we se
Cynthia’s POVHe walks toward me calmly, like a man who didn’t just have his secret ripped from the shadows and laid bare. Without a word, he plucks the photo from my trembling fingers, bends slowly to pick up the book, and straightens with a sigh like this is nothing more than an inconvenience. Like my entire world hasn’t just shifted.He turns his back to me, facing the far end of the room with that irritating stillness he always uses when he’s trying to dismiss a situation.I blink. Once. Twice. The coolness in his posture stuns me—it’s a stark, calculated contrast to what I expected. No shouting. No denial. Just silence. But I refuse to let him act like he doesn’t owe me an explanation.“If you’re here to ask for money again,” he says, his voice hard and sharp, “then just leave. I’m not wasting my money on you—especially not when you’ll end up spending it on shopping sprees.”He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even turn. And that’s what sends my pulse spiking. He’s ignoring it. All of it.
Cynthia’s POVI slam my leg into the air, nearly losing balance as rage swells inside me like a storm. My fists clench tightly by my sides, nails digging into my palms. My mind won’t stop replaying the scene—her smirk, her voice, the smug way Isabel claimed ownership of the flagship store like it was hers all along. And the audacity—the unforgivable nerve—to send me out like I was nothing. Canceling my membership card like I was some common outsider.I scream, the sound raw and guttural, before slamming my hand against the tire of my car. “Damn you, Isabel. Damn you!” I shout again, louder this time. “Who the hell do you think you are?!”My chest heaves, and I pause for a second, my rage momentarily paralyzed by the weight of humiliation. Then, without thinking twice, I yank the car door open and slide in, slamming it shut behind me. My foot hits the gas like I’m crushing every ounce of rage Isabel left behind, and I tear out of the parking lot.Minutes blur together before I’m pul
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