Isabel’s POV“So, you’re saying you did beat him up because he refused to apologize, huh?” I ask, walking towards my office desk, gently placing my iPad on it and sinking into my chair. Since yesterday I got back from the office, Aurora hasn’t let me rest, she keeps following like some child. Ranting about some jerk she came across with when she was out with the kids and Aria. The lady my mom introduced as her friend’s daughter at my welcoming party.I narrow my eyes on her as she starts talking, her voice animated, recounting what happened yesterday and how it happened.“Yeah, me and the kids were out with Aria after you left for the office yesterday,” she begins, pacing as she does so. “Then this jerk from the street thought he could sexually play around with us, you know? I asked him to apologize, but he refused and started mouthing off, calling me weak and throwing disgusting words about my body.” She clenches her fists. “I couldn’t take it anymore, Sis. I had to teach him a less
Isabel’s POVThe door swings open, and as Sabrina steps inside, her presence fills the room.She’s dressed in a tailored black dress, elegant but sharp, the kind that screams power. Her red lips curl into a subtle smirk, the same confidence that her son, Alexander King always carries. She’s the chairman of the King’s Empire, after all.I lean back in my chair, watching her with a cool, calm expression.Aurora glances between us, clearly sensing the tension in the air. She’s not one to start drama, but she certainly knows when to step out of the line of fire. And without a beat, she rises from her seat and starts to head out.“Uh,” she parts her mouth open, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll, uh, be leaving now,” she mumbles, gesturing vaguely toward the door. “I think I got some stuff I need to get done.” She adds, practically sprinting out of the office before I can say anything.As the door closes behind Aurora, I take a breath and turn my attention back to Sabrina. “So, you’re
Aurora’s POVI leave the office, finally stepping into the elevator.As the door closes, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. The soft “bing” of the elevator signals that I’ve reached the ground floor, and as the doors slide open, I step out into the lobby. It’s filled with executives in tailored suits, striding confidently across the gleaming marble floor, their sharp heels clicking with purpose as they head to meetings or greet clients.“Hello, thank you,” I reply to the greeting of the hundredth person today since I arrived at the office with Isabel. Argh! It’s stressful.As I leave the building, the cool breeze from outside greets me. I stop, gazing out at the skyline, watching the bustle of people moving in every direction.The freedom of being outside hits me, but then, as reality sets in, I frown and kick my foot into the air.“Of all days, she has to show up now…” I mutter, annoyed. Of course, Sabrina makes an appearance earlier than expected—today, of all days
Isabel’s POVI make my way down the stairs, dressed in my silk pajamas. The sound of my flip-flops barely making a whisper against the polished wood. Tea. I need tea.The events of the day wash over me, Sabrina King’s visit still weighing heavy on my mind. Her veiled threats replay in my thoughts, sharp and lingering. But instead of feeling victorious, I’m restless, my nerves stretched thin.As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I spot Aurora coming down as well, a sheepish smile plastered on her face. She seems lost in thought, her eyes sparkling with some hidden amusement.I pour myself a cup of tea and take a small sip, letting the warmth spread through me. I lean back slightly, watching her from the corner of my eye. I wonder what on earth has her smiling like that. “Hey girl,” I call, taking a seat on the couch, crossing one leg over the other as I gently place my teacup on the table. My eyes widen with curiosity, a grin spreading across my face. “You left the office early and c
Isabel’s POVThe morning light streams through the window as I try to wake, stretching before rolling out of bed.Today’s a big day—the kids’ first day at their new school. At first, I’m worried that they might find it hard to adapt, given how much they loved their old school in New York. But to my surprise, they’re bouncing with excitement, as if this is an adventure they’ve been waiting for.I smile to myself as I help them into their school uniforms—Sterling in a sharp pair of grey trousers, a crisp white shirt, and a light pink tie, which adds a soft touch of color to his otherwise polished look. Scarlett, in her matching grey pleated skirt and light pink blouse, completes the outfit with a bow at the collar, her hair neatly done. Their little shoes are also polished.I have to admit, I’m amazed at how well they’re taking everything in stride. I guess I must’ve done something good in my past life to be blessed with such incredible kids.They finish dressing quickly, their faces glo
Cynthia’s POVI step into my office, my heart thudding against my chest, anger already flushing over me. I take a deep breath, sinking into the leather chair, but I can’t seem to calm down.Her face—Isabel’s face—keeps flashing in my mind. That smug look she gave me, like she’s already won, like she’s got everything under control. Who does she think she is?Bluffing, saying her PA would text me? I scoff, tilting my head to the side. I see she’s playing some kind of rich brat game, isn’t she? She’s really starting to get on my nerves. Or should I just do away with her once and for all? My lips twist into something sly.Argh! Relax Cynthia. You are still getting to know this new Isabel. I try to calm my nerves. Besides, this new Isabel seems to have a lot of interesting stuff on her. I blink, letting a smile play on my lips. Again, my mind flashes to what she said. Damn it! I can’t believe I was stupid enough to sign that damn contract without reading it properly. So now what, huh?
Alexander’s POVI smile faintly as I dress, the cool fabric of my shirt sliding smoothly against my skin. The tie sits perfectly, the cuffs are crisp, and everything feels in place.For a moment, I feel lighter, like I’ve achieved something—though I can’t quite place what. My mind races through the tasks ahead, then I catch myself in the mirror.Why am I smiling? I pause, studying my reflection.Just then it hits me again. My Mother’s sudden decision. It’s strange how easily she handed me the CEO title at King’s Empire after her visit to LM Group. It’s not like her to make choices without a reason. What could she have discussed with Claire Montgomery? I shake my head, pushing the thought aside. I won’t let it gnaw at me. Today is about moving forward, proving that I’m the right choice.I grab my cologne from the counter, the familiar scent filling the air as I spray it lightly—warm cedarwood with a hint of spice. Isabel used to love this scent.Before I can stop myself, I spray a lit
Isabel’s POVI approach him slowly, the scent of his cologne hitting me before I even reach his side. My favorite. Of course. I wonder if he thinks wearing it will somehow make me admit to being Isabel, somehow soften me, and fall at his feet like I used to.As if a mere fragrance could undo the damage. I scoff under my breath but force a neutral expression as I stop by him.“Hello, Mr. Alexander,” I say evenly, offering a faint, professional smile.His gaze sharpens. “Isabel—”I arch a brow slightly, letting my lips curve into the faintest smile. “Claire,” I say coolly, correcting him with practiced ease. My gaze remains steady, piercing through his calm façade, daring him to challenge me.I hold the moment for just a beat longer before brushing past him to take my seat, knowing full well he’s still watching, his tension palpable.The murmur of conversation fades as I settle in. A quiet tension hangs in the air as the meeting begins. I offer a composed smile, flipping open the folder
Isabel’s POVThe cool morning breeze brushes past as my Louboutin heels click against the marble pavement outside LM Group’s headquarters. Clad in a white blazer and tailored navy pants, I adjust my cuff bracelet before striding purposefully through the glass doors.Inside my office, sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a glow on the stack of folders on my desk. I pick one up and freeze. Alexander. The name stings like an old wound. I shake my head, setting it back down. “Focus,” I mutter, willing his voice and the memories to fade.I sit up abruptly, spinning my chair around to face the expansive view of the city. Skyscrapers rise majestically against the pale blue sky, and the streets below pulse with life. For a moment, I lose myself in the rhythm of the world outside, but even the bustling city can’t drown out my inner turmoil.A soft knock pulls me back. “Come in,” I call, straightening in my chair. Christine steps inside, iPad in hand, her expression pr
Alexander’s POVThe imposing glass façade of the LM Group headquarters looms ahead as I step out of my car, briefcase in hand. I stride through the lobby, nodding at a few familiar faces. By the time I reach the conference hall, my thoughts are already racing. My team and Claire’s are seated around the long table, their murmurs cutting off as I enter. A flicker of something—anticipation or maybe relief—flashes across their faces, and I furrow my brows slightly.I glance around. Everything appears calm. Judging by the silence and the lack of any major movements, the meeting hasn’t started yet. I sigh inwardly. I guess I made it on time after all.I greet the leaders of Claire’s team, exchanging firm handshakes before taking my seat. As I crouch into the chair, the one opposite me swings forward, and my gaze lifts. It’s Claire.There’s a polished simplicity to her appearance—sharp lines, clean elegance. Her gaze is cool, unwavering, and just the sight of her is enough to unsettle me.I
Alexander’s POVI pull the cuffs of my shirt down before slipping on my cufflinks, the metallic click grounding me. Today’s meeting hangs heavily in my mind as I brush my hair into place, the gel smoothing down the dark strands until they fall in the sharp, confident style I prefer. Looking at my reflection, I tug the edge of my jacket, ensuring every line of the suit is immaculate. “I’m ready,” I murmur, letting the words steel my resolve.Sitting down, I slide my feet into polished leather shoes, fastening them securely. My movements are deliberate as I pick up my briefcase and head down the grand staircase. Halfway down, a rich, savory aroma drifts up to meet me. My steps falter. For a moment, I think I’m imagining it. Meals aren’t uncommon here, but this… it feels different, strange even.And then I see her. Sabrina. My mother.Standing near the dining table, she’s supervising the preparation of breakfast. It’s jarring—a scene I can’t recall witnessing since childhood. My mother a
Isabel’s POVI make my way to the private gym that is tucked into the west wing of the mansion, right past the study. It’s one of Aurora’s favorite places, a sanctuary she treats with the same devotion as her morning coffee. For her, this space isn’t just about fitness—it’s her escape. I can see why. The polished floors gleam, and the glass doors let in the soft light from the garden outside, making the space feel open and alive.As I walk in, the familiar hum of the machines fills the air. Aurora is on the treadmill, her strides steady and determined. Sweat beads on her forehead, glistening under the lights as her focus remains unshaken. Watching her like this always motivates me. She’s relentless, committed to every goal she sets.Her eyes flick toward me, and a faint smile plays on her lips as she slows the machine to a stop. She grabs the small towel hanging off the side, dabbing her face and neck before she speaks.“I bet you’re not here for this, are you?” she teases, her voice
Alexander’s POVI lean back in my chair, my leg bouncing restlessly as I stare at the closed door. My fingers twist the edge of my jacket, the tension in my chest refusing to settle. I’ve been trying to keep my mind off it—off them—but it’s useless. Cynthia and Claire in the same room never ends well. Oil and water don’t mix, and I know the history between them well enough to expect a spark turning into a blaze.For a moment, I almost push myself up to check, but I stop, pressing my hand to the armrest instead. They’re adults. They can handle themselves. So why the hell does it feel like something’s about to go wrong? I shake my head, forcing myself to sit still, but the unease claws at me, pulling tighter.The door creaks open. My head jerks up, and there she is—Cynthia. A smug smile spreads across her face, so out of place that I blink. My mind stumbles over it. Didn’t she walk in earlier with a look so downcast she could’ve passed for a grieving widow? Now she’s smiling?I sit up st
Isabel’s POVAs I step back into the restaurant, I force myself to focus on my breathing. In through my nose, out through my mouth. Calm, steady, controlled. My fingers twitch at my sides, desperate to clench into fists again, but I smooth them down my dress instead, willing myself to keep it together. I won’t give Cynthia the satisfaction of knowing she got to me. But my fury burns hot and sharp as my eyes land on Alexander.Our gazes lock, and the air feels heavier, charged with something I can’t quite name. His face is calm—too calm—but there’s something in his eyes. A flicker of uncertainty, maybe even guilt, crosses his face, as if he’s caught in the web of his own mind.My heart pounds, my anger bubbling dangerously close to the surface. For a fleeting moment, I want to march straight to him, to say something—anything—that will cut as deeply as I feel wounded. The words are on the tip of my tongue, burning to be released. But I stop myself, taking a long, measured breath. No.
Isabel’s POVThe tension thickens, but I try to stay still. Why should I leave? I’m done running now.I glance at Roy and whisper, a teasing smile tugging at my lips, “And the food, Roy. How can I leave that?” I add a playful gesture, and he chuckles, his tension easing slightly.Placing a hand over mine, he says, “As long as you’re fine, let’s enjoy our meal. You know I’m here for you, always.”I give him a cheeky smile, but my mind betrays me, drifting back to the pair across the room. Just then, the waiter arrives with our meals, the aroma sending a thrill through my senses. I dive in without hesitation, savoring every bite. It’d be foolish to let them ruin this for me, I think, relishing the rich flavors.When I finish, I stand up, ready to make my exit, but before I can take a step, I catch the flicker of worry in Roy’s eyes. It’s quick, fleeting, but it’s there—a silent question hanging between us. His concern isn’t something he tries to hide, even if it’s just a moment of hesita
Isabel’s POVGuilt gnaws at me as Roy gently helps me into the car, his hand steadying me as I sit down. He closes the door with a soft thud, his movements careful, as though I’m something fragile. As he walks around to the driver’s side, my chest tightens. This pretense, this little act of weakness I conjured at the office, it wasn’t fair to him. Roy’s always been on the lookout for me, always ready to help or save me, even when I don’t ask.As the car pulls away, my mind drifts. Memories surface—Roy standing by my side during moments I thought I couldn’t get through. Through the years, through the pain, through my mistakes, he’s never faltered. How does someone care this much, for this long, without giving up? I wonder if it’s the kind of loyalty I’ve only ever seen in stories, the kind between couples who’ve loved each other for years.I feel a sudden flutter in my chest, and my breath catches for a moment. Or is this… No. I silently laugh at myself, the absurdity of the thought
Alexander’s POVI pull into the valet parking lot of La Belle Étoile, the restaurant Cynthia’s been raving about for a while now, mentioning how she’s seen a lot about it and always wanted to try it. She’s brought it up so many times, I’ve lost count—going on about their “exquisite dining experience” and their perfectly curated menu and luxurious ambianceTrue to her word, the place reeks of prestige. The entrance alone gleams with crystal chandeliers visible through the glass doors, and the soft hum of classical music spills out as we step inside.Cynthia’s arm wraps around mine as we walk in, her fingers curling tightly against my jacket sleeve. I resist the urge to pull away, reminding myself to maintain composure. We’re in public, and I won’t give her the satisfaction of a scene. Still, the possessiveness in her grip irritates me. She tilts her head toward me, whispering something about how I’m going to love the food here. I nod absentmindedly, offering her a tight smile as the