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
Cynthia’s POVI’m deep in the bliss of my much-needed sleep when the incessant ringing of my phone yanks me out of it.My eyes flutter open, squinting at the brightness of the screen flashing beside me.Who the hell is disturbing my sleep this early? Even though it’s past 12 p.m., to me, it’s still early. After the exhausting outreach yesterday, the last thing I want is to be disturbed.Agnes. My PA.Her name flashes across the screen, and immediately my face contorts in a scowl. Anger surges through me.She knows better than to call me at this hour, especially when I’ve informed them I’m not coming to the office today.I’ve warned her a thousand times about this, and if she’s calling me for something trivial, she’s as good as fired.I grab my phone, my fingers gripping it tightly, practically vibrating with irritation.Taking a deep breath, I answer with a low growl. “This better be important, Agnes.”Her voice comes through, shaky and tense. Worry?That’s unlike her. “Ma’am, you nee
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
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
Isabel’s POVI let her words hang in the air, savoring the weight of her audacity. Slowly, I take a step closer, the corner of my mouth curling into the faintest hint of a smile. Her confidence wavers—just a flicker, but enough for me to notice.“Cynthia,” I say evenly, my tone as smooth as silk. “What a surprise.”Her face remains composed, but her posture stiffens. “I thought I’d come and celebrate your success,” she says, her voice laced with mock sincerity. “It’s quite the achievement.”I tilt my head, studying her. “I appreciate the gesture,” I reply, letting my voice dip slightly, enough to make her uneasy. “But if I wanted your congratulations, I would have asked for it.”Her smile falters, her lips twitching as though searching for the right response. I don’t give her the chance.“Especially not from someone who almost ruined this project,” I continue, my voice dropping lower, sharper.Cynthia’s eyes widen, and for a moment, the mask slips. The confidence she wore like armor c
Isabel’s POVCynthia strides into the room with calculated grace, her entrance commanding attention as if the entire event were curated solely for her. Her eyes lock with mine, and for a moment, the air between us feels heavy, laden with unspoken tension. Her lips curve into a faint smile, but it’s not one of warmth—no, it’s deliberate, sharp, meant to cut. Then, as though dismissing me entirely, she glides toward Alexander. With a practiced elegance, she loops her hand around his arm, her fingers curling possessively, her head tilting just slightly as she flashes a radiant smile for anyone who might be watching.I laugh softly under my breath, swirling my drink as I watch him. The tension in his shoulders, the clench of his jaw—it’s all too familiar, a silent plea to escape her grasp. There was a time when I might’ve pitied him. Now? I savor the sight, every ounce of his discomfort a vindication I didn’t know I needed.”Just then, My mother leans in close, her voice low but pointed.
Alexander’s POVThe condo is finally complete, and here we are—my mother and I—seated in the expansive lounge of the building that now symbolizes one of our company’s greatest achievements. The room hums with energy as executives begin to file in, their excitement palpable. Today is the launch, and it feels monumental.One of our senior executives approaches me, his stride confident and composed. “Congratulations, Alex, for pulling this off,” he says, extending his hand. His grip is firm, his eyes steady, radiating assurance as he holds my gaze for a moment before turning to exchange pleasantries with my mother. The interaction is brief, but his confidence feels like a nod of approval, a reminder that this project has made an impact.As more executives take their seats, the room begins to buzz with conversation. The flashes of cameras go off at every angle, capturing this significant moment. I settle into my seat, only for my gaze to lock with Roy’s across the room. His expression is
Isabel’s POVThe day hums with energy as we pull up to the luxurious condo. The internet has been in a frenzy these past few days, with every teaser and announcement stirring excitement for today’s unveiling. Promotional clips of the condo’s sleek interiors and panoramic views have been everywhere—trending across social media, featured in business news segments, even flashing across the billboards we passed on the way here.Stepping down from the limo, I take a breath, smoothing the fit of my dress—a sleek, off-white gown with delicate embroidery, elegant but understated, just right for the occasion. Beside me, my mother exudes her usual grace in one of LM’s signature power suits, the bold navy fabric tailored perfectly to emphasize her commanding presence.Roy is already waiting with his team, a brief smile exchanged between us as our eyes meet. The clicking of cameras surrounds us, a constant hum of the AD media at work. To the side, a live broadcast is in full swing, one of the rep
Isabel’s POVThe hospital air feels stale, but my senses sharpen the moment Cynthia, Roy and Susan step into the room. My gaze briefly locks with Cynthia’s before she turns her attention to Alexander. He sits stiffly on the hospital bed, his expression tight, like he’s been cornered.Cynthia’s scoff slices through the tension as she says, “I didn’t know your allergy could be cured by making a woman rest on your chest.”The absurdity of her words almost makes me chuckle, and despite myself, a small laugh escapes. It’s faint, but loud enough to draw attention. I clear my throat quickly, masking the amusement, and move closer to Roy, who stands stiffly beside me. He looks like he’s unsure whether to stay or speak.Alexander’s jaw tightens visibly, and he turns his gaze away, irritation etched into every muscle of his face. I wonder to myself, Oh, Cynthia, you’re starting to lose your hold on him, aren’t you? How much longer before he begins to despise you?My thoughts swirl with satisfac
Alexander’s POVThe hospital room is colder than I expected. The soft hum of the AC does little to soothe the ache in my head or the dull itching on my arm. I’m finally lying on a narrow hospital bed, the crisp white sheets barely wrinkled beneath me. After some initial checks, the doctor—a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a calm demeanor—finally attends to me. His voice is steady as he assures me, “The reaction isn’t severe. You were fortunate to come in early.”I nod absently, though my mind is barely in the room. The sting of the incident is still fresh. The only thing I can focus on is the discomfort in my chest—the kind that isn’t physical.The door creaks open, and my eyes flick toward it. Claire steps in, her expression a mix of guilt and unease. Annoyingly, Roy is right behind her, his presence already grating on my nerves. My gaze narrows instinctively, but the doctor keeps talking, oblivious to the sudden tension.“Glad it wasn’t worst,” the doctor says, slippin
Isabel’s POVThe drive to the hospital is quiet, save for the occasional hum of Roy’s engine and the faint sound of my own thoughts whirring like a storm. Once we arrive, we step into the cool, sterile air of the lobby and inquire about Alexander King. A nurse directs us to his room, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding as we head toward it.When we enter, Alexander is lying on the bed, looking much better than when they’d rushed him out of the restaurant. Relief washes over me. I knew it was a mild allergy, but I can’t lie—I worried. What if his allergy had worsened over the years? What if I’d unknowingly caused him serious harm? But seeing him now, steady and breathing fine, the weight lifts.Good, I think. He’ll need his strength for what I have planned next.The doctor explains the situation. “Luckily, it wasn’t severe—just a mild reaction. But you should be careful next time about consuming any dish with hazelnut,” he advises, scribbling on a notepad. Alexander n
Isabel’s POVI knew he was going to do this. The Alexander I know thrives on challenges, and now that he’s beginning to grow feelings for Claire Montgomery, he’d stop at nothing to ruin my date. So I agreed to this place—my little sanctuary. It’s a quiet, dimly lit restaurant nestled in the heart of the city, with dark wooden furniture, soft amber lights, and the faint aroma of lavender in the air. This place has heard more of my sadness than my joy, an escape from the pain he’s caused me.A quiet scoff builds in my throat as he gestures for me to make the order. Typical Alexander, always playing games. And now he wants me to choose the meal? Could it be that he’s walking right into my plan, or is the universe finally favoring me? A smile curves on my lips as I say, “Alright, if you all want me to handle the orders, I will. This is the least I can do for everyone, considering how hard you’ve all been working.”I wave the waiter over, giving him clear instructions. “Bring your chef’s s
Alexander’s POVThe room hums with low chatter, the staff’s hushed voices mingling with the clinking of glasses. Claire sits close beside Roy, their chairs just slightly angled toward each other, while I’m seated opposite them. The tension at the table is palpable, like a taut string ready to snap. My gaze fixes on Claire, tuning out the faint murmurs around me. She seems relaxed, her soft laughter carrying as Roy leans in to whisper something to her.Let’s see how perfect this dinner date turns out for you both, I think, smirking to myself. Satisfaction bubbles quietly within me. I’ve already won by ensuring your little evening didn’t go as planned.But a voice in my head murmurs, What’s gotten into me? Why did I insist we all have dinner together? I shift in my seat, forcing a casual shrug. Well, since we’re here, I might as well enjoy dinner. Why let her go off and leave the rest of us hungry? I nod inwardly, convincing myself this was about consideration for the team.My gaze dri