Alexander’s POVI watch as Sophia takes steps forward, her expression shifting to one of mock innocence. But before Sophia could take another step closer, the little boy—supposedly her twin—moves forward, placing himself firmly between his sister and Sophia, his small frame stiff with a protective resolve far beyond his years. His blue eyes narrow as he looks up, his face mirroring a determination that catches me off guard.Those eyes—something about them struck me as familiar, a nagging déjà vu that I couldn’t quite place. It’s almost like staring into a mirror— an echo of something I can’t quite place, but that lingers, unsettling.I rush over, stepping between the kids. “Sophia, what’s going on here?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady even though frustration simmers just below the surface.Sophia’s face shifts to a look of wide-eyed innocence, her lips quivering as she shrugs her shoulders. “Daddy, I didn't do anything! She’s lying! I didn’t touch her doll!”Her words hang in t
Isabel’s POVI step out of the ice cream parlor, idly staring at the hall that seems to fade away, my thoughts drifting far beyond the noise I hear. I flip my phone in my hand, hoping to see Roy’s name flash across the screen. It’s been quite a while since I called, but still no response. I take a deep breath, glancing at the entrance of the mall, as if waiting— waiting for a miracle.“No I can’t keep waiting,” I say to myself. It’s a big mall I know, but since I can’t get through to Roy, then I’ll have to look around, definitely they should be somewhere, probably just having fun. I shrugged, letting my thoughts sink in. Just as I make my way through the mall, checking the possibilities of where they might be, I’m stunned aback by the figure in my eyes. The figure, a replica of someone I know. I can definitely tell it’s her. Cynthia. Wow! Speaking of the devil. She’s here. For a moment, I froze. Not knowing what to feel or how to react. Just as the daze was gone, I felt a wave o
Alexander’s POVI watch as Cynthia strides toward us, her heels clicking against the polished floor, her face lit with anticipation—until she sees us alone. Relief settles in my chest; I’m glad the man with his twins left before she could get near them. No scene today, at least.As she approaches, I see her expression change, her smile dimming. Her eyes land on Sophia, whose small frame shakes as she sobs quietly.Without hesitation, Cynthia kneels beside her, wrapping her in a tight embrace, her voice pitching with concern. “What happened, baby? Why are you crying? Who made you cry?”A few feet away, I lean against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold. Her questions hang unanswered in the air, underscored by Sophia’s quiet hiccups. When Cynthia turns to me, her eyes flash with accusation.“Alexander, are you just going to stand there and watch our daughter cry? Why is she crying?”I hold her gaze, my expression calm, masking the frustration building inside. “Teach her so
Alexander’s POVThe tension in the room is suffocating, as though the very air has thickened with the weight of everything resting on my shoulders. My mother’s stare is like fire, burning holes through me as I scramble for something—anything—to say. But the words don’t come. My mouth is dry, and my mind races, but nothing coherent forms. Cynthia stands off to the side, watching with that same cold expression she always wears when things start falling apart. I clenched my fist at her look, and for a split second, I wonder if she’s enjoying this—seeing me under the scrutiny of my mother, my power and control slipping through my fingers like sand. She thrives in chaos, always has. But this… this is something else entirely.“Alexander!” My mother snaps, her voice pulling me back to the moment. “Are you going to stand there and gawk like a child? Or are you going to explain what the hell is happening with the investors?”I grit my teeth. This wasn’t the way I wanted to handle things. I
Anonymous’ POVI sit back on the chair, crossing my legs with a casual elegance, my fingers drumming lightly on the armrest as I let out a low whistle. A faint smile plays on my lips as the two men drag the trembling figure in, forcing him down onto his knees in front of me, his head bowed in shame—or is it fear?Leaning forward, I reach out, gripping his chin and lifting it just enough to meet his gaze. His face is already bruised, smeared with blood, and his eyes, wide and desperate, lock onto mine. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—terror, submission, and just the faintest glimmer of regret.“So, you planned to meet up with him…” I pause, drawing out the tension, savoring every agonizing second, “Alex… Alexander King. Huh?”He flinches, his head shaking frantically, his face a mask of terror. My mouth twitches, an amused scoff slipping through my lips before my hand swings in a sharp slap across his cheek. He crumples sideways from the blow, but the two men are quick, yank
Isabel’s POVI woke up with a groan, my head spinning from last night’s chaos. But the comforting smell of something familiar, something warm and inviting lingers in the air. My eyes fluttered open, and I inhaled deeply, recognizing the scent almost immediately—mom’s cooking. That unmistakable blend of spices and flavors. My favorite. A smile creeps across my face as I kick off the covers and follow the delicious aroma down the stairs.I reached the dining room, and there it was—my favorite dish, front and center, surrounded by an array of other assorted meals. The whole table looked like a feast, and the cooks bustled around, placing finishing touches here and there. My stomach growled in approval. “Well, look who’s up!” Mom’s voice cuts through, and I turn to see her standing by the table with another dish in her hands. Her smile is warm, and her eyes twinkle like they always do when she’s in her element. Sometimes I wonder how a billionaire’s wife still cooks for her family, eve
Isabel’s POV“Okay, sure, we’ll be there.” I say, putting an end to the call. “It’s Grace Anderson, Roy’s Mother. She’d invited us for dinner today.” I say, turning to face mom whose eyes were filled with curiosity. “Umm.." I run my hands through my hair. “I’ll be using the opportunity to hand over the invite for the party to her, since it’s ready. “Yes, that’s perfect.” My mom grins. “It’s good you go see her, I’ll be meeting up with the event planners today, preparations need to be made, and you know how I run it.” She winks at me.LOL. “Okay Mom.”How on earth can I say no to the woman who never looked down on me, not even once. At first, I hesitated. Grace Anderson had always been kind to me, treating me with warmth and acceptance since the day Roy introduced us. In her eyes, I could do no wrong. But perhaps that was part of the problem—she’d always hoped for something more between Roy and me, and I knew accepting her invitation might rekindle those hopes.I didn’t want to misl
Roy’s POV“It’s nothing, really,” I say, trying to quickly put on my shirt, but Isabel stops me midway. She definitely won’t take no for an answer.“Liar!” She snorts, pointing at me. “You really don’t know how to lie, do you? Just tell me the truth. You know how much I hate lies.Her gaze is steady, unwavering, and I feel a tug deep in my chest. “It’s from five years ago,” I finally let out, almost in a whisper.Her eyes widen as understanding dawns on her. “Don’t tell me…” her hand hovers near her mouth, and she steps back, her voice barely audible. “From the fire?”I nod, attempting a small smile. “It’s just a scratch, Isabel. Nothing to worry about.”“A scratch?” She chokes on the words, her eyes welling up. “How can you say that?” Her tears break me.I move closer, placing my hands on her shoulders. “Isabel, look at me. I’m fine. It’s healed. I made the choice to save you. Don’t blame yourself for anything.”A tear slides down her cheek, and I gently wipe it away.“But… you went
Isabel’s POVAs I walk back into the hall, my mind is still swirling with thoughts of what just happened. The conversation, the memories—all of it spins together until I hear a familiar, joyful chorus that pulls me back.“Mommy!” Scarlett and Sterling’s voices ring out in perfect harmony, their excitement lifting a weight I didn’t realize was pressing so heavily on my chest.I turn, and the moment freezes. The soft lights of the hall seem to dim, the edges of the room falling away until all I can see are my children running toward me, their faces lit with pure joy. A faint melody drifts from the speakers above—a soft piano tune that barely cuts through the sound of their laughter. Everything else blurs as I drop to my knees, not caring that my dress pools around me on the polished marble floor.“Oh, my babies,” I whisper, opening my arms wide. They crash into me, and the warmth of their small bodies melts the lingering chill in my heart. The familiar scent of baby shampoo fills the ai
Cynthia’s POVI storm out of the hall, anger, confusion, and fury clashing in my chest.Who did I just see back there? Isabel? It can’t be. Isabel’s dead.I dart my eyes around, my breath coming in gasps. My mind must be playing tricks on me, right?I clutch my chest, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. It feels like I’m going to suffocate under the weight of it all.The noise from the party grows faint as I make my way toward the other side—just any side but the hall, where I can have a moment to myself.If the person inside is Claire Montgomery, and she’s also Isabel, then… What have I done? I grit my teeth, holding my hand up to my mouth, as memories of my meeting with Claire’s representative flash across my mind.No, this can’t be! I must be hallucinating or something. I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut.Maybe I’ve been working too hard, or maybe it’s just the stress of handling everything with Sophia. I wonder why she’s so persistent in coming along with us.My eyes widen like
Isabel’s POVThe familiar figure catches my eye, and memories of her flood my mind. Aria.The first time we met was at the beach—Roy’s introduction, a brief, polite encounter that held more weight than I’d realized then. But how does she know my mother so well, and why is she speaking to her like family? There’s a familiarity there that unsettles me. Does she know more about my past than I realize?“Aria?” I say, my voice carrying surprise.Her eyes widen when she sees me, and for a second, we both just stare, caught in the shock of recognition. I guess I’m not the only one taken aback.Before either of us speaks, my mom steps forward, her face lighting up with that warm smile she always gives to someone she adores. “Aria, dear!” she beams, wrapping her in a hug.“I didn’t know you two already knew each other!” she exclaims, turning to me with excitement. “Well, that makes it easier then, doesn’t it?” She laughs softly, her smile widening as she introduces Aria to her business friends
Alexander’s POVI’m not dreaming. It’s real. Like, it’s fucking real. She’s here—standing before the crowd as Leonard Montgomery introduces her as their daughter. Their daughter. His speech ends, and the crowd erupts into cheers, but I can’t move. My hands stay limp at my sides as shock roots me to the spot. I turn my head slowly to look at Cynthia, her jaw still slack as though her mind is trying to piece together what we’re witnessing. Finally, she glances at me, her face tight with confusion, before excusing herself. Good. Perfect. I don’t need her buzzing around me right now. My gaze snaps back to Isabel—or is it Claire Montgomery?—as she stands poised and radiant in front of the crowd. How? How is she alive? And if she’s alive, why couldn’t I find her? But then again, I didn’t search, did I? Not really. I convinced myself it was pointless. I’d buried my guilt under a mountain of excuses—telling myself it was better to move on, that it was what she would’ve wanted. Bu
Isabel’s POVA light knock on the glass catches my attention. It’s Christine, signaling to Travis that it’s time.I look up, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. “It’s time, ma’am,” he says quietly, his voice calm but firm.I press my lips into a thin line, releasing out a deep sigh. The weight of what lies ahead settles over me. I can’t avoid facing them forever. If I’m going to do this, there’s no better time than now.As I step out of the car, blinding lights from countless cameras flash around me. The sharp, rapid clicks of shutters surround me—a reminder of who I am, of who they all believe I am.Claire Montgomery.The name feels heavy on my shoulders, like a cloak I’ve yet to fully embrace. Like I earlier stated, it’s the name given to me by my real mother before we were torn apart. Being Claire Montgomery is the only way to stay hidden, to stay safe. I take a deep breath, the cool night air filling my lungs. Tonight, I don’t just show up as Isabel—I show up as the daughter
Alexander’s POVI stride down the hall, adjusting the cufflinks of my tailored white tuxedo, the soft notes of piano drifting through the air. A gentle melody echoes from the grand piano near the far end of the ballroom, mingling with the quiet hum of conversations. The weight of success settles comfortably on my shoulders.The tux fits like a second skin, and the subtle gleam of my Rolex catches the light with each step. Cynthia is by my side, her manicured fingers curled around my arm, projecting the image of a perfect, polished couple. Her presence beside me is calculated, rehearsed—just like everything else in our public life.Tonight is it.The hotel ballroom is filled with a who’s who of elites, business magnates, and influential figures. The Montgomerys sure know how to gather power under one roof. I let a smile play on my lips as the camera flashes capture the moment, bathing us in a soft glow. Golden accents on the walls catch the light of the chandeliers, casting a warm, a
Isabel’s POVI stand before the mirror, my heart racing beneath the surface, refusing to reveal the anxiety simmering inside.Today isn’t just any day—it’s the day the world learns my true identity, the long-lost daughter of the Montgomery family. I release a slow, steady breath, forcing calm to replace my nerves.Five years have passed since I last faced Alexander, Cynthia, and the meddling Mother Hen—Sabrina King. The thought of seeing them—especially Alexander—tightens a cold knot in my chest. I remember the last words he said, the look in his eyes when he handed me the divorce papers. I can’t afford to show my rage, not tonight.“Sis, you look absolutely gorgeous,” Aurora’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, her reflection joining mine in the mirror.Her eyes sparkle with pride and excitement as she adjusts her gown, a stunning midnight blue that shimmers under the chandelier light.“You’re ready for this, Isabel… Claire.” She rolls her eyes, and I can’t help smiling. “More than r
Alexander’s POVI sit by the wine bar, my fingers lightly tracing the rim of my glass as I replay the day in my mind—every word, every look, every moment that seems to unravel all at once.The Montgomerys are revealing their missing daughter to the world tomorrow. They keep making it seem like they’ve struck gold with her.What’s the point of a party? Well, considering we got the check, I won’t mind if they keep throwing parties every weekend. I scoff.Just as I’m about to take another sip, I catch sight of Cynthia passing by, dressed in a figure-hugging mini dress made of sleek, shimmering fabric that catches the light.I glare at her as she walks past, pretending not to notice me. For a second, I wonder where she might be heading this late at night, dressed like that.Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been interested in her, her looks, or anything related to her.But for the sake of my family’s reputation, I can’t just let it slide. And for god’s sake, she’s a mother! What kind of exam
Cynthia’s POVThe phone won’t stop ringing.Every call brings worse news, and in an instant, I lose billions of naira.If this is how it feels falling from grace to grass, then I’m finally feeling it.Most of our sponsors pull out one by one, the major ones already gone.This is bad.How can one stupid—one poorly chosen moment in front of a hidden camera—make me lose everything I’ve worked for?I glare at the screen, disgust welling up inside me. I hate the internet.They’re all fools, a bunch of idiots! The way people share and comment like vultures on a carcass, feeding on whatever scandal they can find.It’s like some twisted scene from a movie, except this time I refuse to be the tragic character that loses everything. I’m not going to end up like them. There’s a way out. There must be.I pick up my phone, desperation clawing at me as I dial my father’s number.Even if everyone turns their back on me, he won’t. I want to believe so.I’m his only child, after all.He answers after