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 POVThe confession hangs between us, thick and heavy like a storm cloud ready to burst. Roy’s face shifts from confusion to disbelief, and I can feel the gravity of my words pressing down on both of us. This wasn’t how I wanted it, but the truth was inevitable. He needed to know, and it was better coming from me than having him find out on his own.I owe Roy so much for everything he’s done for me.But Alexander King. The name tastes like ash on my tongue, a painful reminder of a past I’ve tried to bury.Roy’s gaze meets mine, searching for answers. “He’s the father?” His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, as though the words themselves are too heavy to hold. I feel my heart thud painfully in my chest.I want to reach out, comfort him, but the truth I’ve just laid bare feels like a chasm opening between us, too wide to bridge in this moment.I blink, remembering why I came in the first place. “Your mom must be waiting for us. I’ll go,” I say, forcing a calmness I don’t feel.
Alexander’s POVI tell you, I’m such a fool. I pace around my office, taking a halt at the window as I take in the view of the city sprawled beneath me. The world outside seemed calm, distant, but my mind was anything but. That night at the old pier keeps following through my mind. I stood on the pier for hours, the salty wind whipping around me, the wooden planks creaking under my weight. Every gut felt like a whisper of mockery, each splash of water a reminder of how foolish I was for coming. I couldn’t stop glancing over my shoulder, expecting—no, hoping—to see something move in the shadows. But there was only darkness, deep and suffocating, pressing down on me like a bad omen. I take a deep breath. Why would I get such a message if the person had no intention of showing up? Is there something more to it? I force myself to shake off the memory, but the questions linger as I reach for my Americano, letting the rich aroma fill the room.My thoughts were interrupted when Susan wal
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
Cynthia’s POV The dimly lit room hums with quiet sophistication as I swirl the wine in my glass, watching the deep red liquid catch the faint glow of the chandelier. The air is thick with the scent of aged wood and expensive leather, a setting that matches the confidence coursing through me.Then, the door creaks open.I don’t turn immediately. Instead, I glance sideways, catching James in my peripheral vision. He stands there, his posture tense, but there’s something different about him tonight. A certainty.“Hope this isn’t going to be one of your excuses again.” My voice is smooth, laced with just the right amount of impatience. I tilt my chin slightly, taking another slow sip, daring him to prove me wrong.James exhales weakly and steps forward, closing the distance before I can react. His arms wrap around me from behind, tight—too tight. There’s something desperate in the way he holds me, something that sets my teeth on edge.I stiffen. This isn’t why I’m here.Pushing against h
Alexander’s POVI freeze mid-step.Isabel?The moment I see her walk out of Collins’ office, my mind goes blank. She doesn’t even glance at me, just strides past like I’m nothing but air. Like I never existed to her. The indifference in her expression, the way her shoulders are squared as if she’s holding herself together—it unsettles me more than I care to admit.What the hell is she doing here? What business does she have with Collins?Something isn’t right. I can feel it.I push the door open, stepping in and shutting it behind me. Collins barely flinches, though I catch the flicker of shock that flashes across his face before he masks it with a smooth smile. He’s quick—too quick—to change the atmosphere.“Oh, buddy, you’re here.” He walks out from behind his desk, all casual. “So, how was your visit to Carl Edward? Hmmm, I’m sure now he’ll be scared to ever mess with you again. I know just how to deal with dudes like him. Dudes like him are careful about letting their personal aff
Isabel’s POVLife has finally settled back into its usual rhythm. The buzz around the upcoming collection launch is louder than ever, and work keeps me occupied. Everything is back to normal—or at least, it should be.But something feels off.Eva Langley.Her confession video had cleared the air, but it wasn’t enough. The damage she caused… the lives she tried to ruin—it can’t just be brushed aside. She needs to be held accountable. She needs to pay. But she’s nowhere to be found. Ever since the video surfaced, she’s vanished.The door to my office swings open, pulling me from my thoughts. I look up—only to see Aria standing there.Shock stills me. “Aria?”She just got out of the hospital. Shouldn’t she be resting?I’m already on my feet, gesturing to the chair. “I can’t believe you. You should be resting, so why did you come all the way here?”Aria smiles, a light chuckle escaping her lips. “You talk as if I’ve broken a leg.”I huff at her humor, the tension lifting slightly, if only
Anonymous POVI slam my hand against the table, the sharp crack slicing through the silence like a whip.“You’re all idiots. A bunch of useless idiots.” My voice is cold, controlled, but the frustration simmering beneath it is lethal.No one speaks. No one even breathes too loudly. They know better.I exhale slowly, dragging my gaze over them like a blade. My eyes land on one of my men—stiff, shoulders squared, pretending he isn’t about to piss himself.“You.” My voice drops, quiet but deadly. “You never complete your tasks. Always excuses.”He flinches. Doesn’t dare speak.I take a step toward him, watching a bead of sweat roll down his temple. “You had your chance at the cemetery,” I say, voice smooth, almost conversational. “And what did you do? You came back whining about Alex.” I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Tell me, how?”He swallows thickly, but I don’t have the patience for his pathetic stammering.I shift my gaze. Eva.She’s crouched by the side, fidgeting like a scared
Isabel’s POVIt’s been a few days since Eva’s confession video was released, and the internet hasn’t stopped buzzing about it. People are shocked—outraged, even—at the lengths she went to just because she was paid to ruin someone’s life. But the real question remains: who paid her? The video never mentioned a name. Was she protecting someone, or was this just another attempt to manipulate the narrative and divert attention from herself? No one has been able to find her since the video surfaced, and that only makes everything more suspicious.I sigh, shaking my head as I pass by my mother’s room. But then, a strange sound stops me in my tracks. Muffled, restless movements. A whimper. My chest tightens.Without thinking, I push the door open and rush inside.My mother is trembling, her body jerking slightly as if caught in a nightmare. Her brows are deeply furrowed, her lips parting as she mumbles something I can’t understand. Her fingers clench at the sheets, twisting them tightly in h
Collins’ POVMy hands tighten into fists as I step closer, rage surging through my veins like fire.“What right do you have?” My voice is razor-sharp, cutting through the air as I glare at Cynthia. “What gives you the damn right to do this to Aria?”She flinches but recovers fast, lifting her chin like she’s untouchable. But she isn’t—not today.I lunge before I can stop myself, my fingers wrapping around her throat, squeezing. Hard. She gasps, her nails clawing at my hand, desperate for breath. But I don’t let go. Not yet.“You ruined her,” I growl, my grip tightening. “Destroyed her business, humiliated her—why, Cynthia? Why the hell would you do that?”Her eyes widen, panic flashing across her face as she struggles, her legs kicking against the floor. She wheezes, lips parting like she wants to say something, but no words come out.A rush of satisfaction coils in my gut, but then—“Collins!”A voice slices through the fog of rage, distant at first, then clearer.“Collins, man, snap
Roy’s POVRelief settles in my chest as I watch Aria, now stable, resting against the pillows. The weight of not knowing if she’d make it through the night finally lifts. I glance toward Isabel, expecting to see the same relief mirrored in her expression.And I do.She looks at me, her eyes soft in a way that sends a strange warmth through me. As the doctor finishes his final instructions and leaves the room, silence follows. Isabel doesn’t say much, just a small nod in my direction, but something lingers in her gaze—something unreadable.I notice the way her attention shifts, her body tensing slightly, as if she’s suddenly somewhere else in her mind. Before I can ask, she exhales and murmurs, “I’ll… I’ll be outside.” A quick motion toward the door, and she’s gone.I watch the space she just occupied, a frown tugging at my brows, but Aria’s soft sigh pulls me back.Minutes drag on as I help her lie back down, adjusting the blanket over her. Her breathing steadies, her lashes flutterin
Isabel’s POVCollins’ words send a jolt through me. Eva is missing.I tense, my mind racing. Could he be lying? Another trick to divert attention? No—he’s the only one who knew where she was. So why now? Why this sudden disappearance?Then, he says my name.“Isabel.”The way he calls me—low, steady, familiar—makes me turn toward him without a second thought. It’s the same way he used to say my when I was still married to Alexander. The echo of it stirs something deep within me, a reflex I can’t quite shake. But I push it aside, my gaze sharp, expectant.He wouldn’t call me like that without a good reason.Then I see it—the small drive in his hand.“This contains all of Eva’s confession,” Collins says, his voice even, controlled.For a moment, I don’t know how to feel. Relief? Because this could finally clear Aria’s name. Or suspicion? Because how was this possible?Eva was determined, ruthless. She was ready to go all in to ruin Aria’s image. She wouldn’t have given this confession so