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 night is here, and everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion. It took about an hour of convincing to stop the kids from coming with me to the event and an extra 20 to 30 minutes of assuring Scarlett I wasn’t going to bring daddy home or meet with him.Since they got back from school today, I keep hearing talks about daddy, daddy. I thought we were already on the same page. Didn’t expect that they would come back with it so soon.Thanks to Aurora for coming to my rescue. She promised to play games with them if they stayed with her and luckily, they agreed.I glance back at the mirror one last time, taking in my reflection.My dress, a red sleek gown that hugs my curves, the fabric shimmering under the light as it cascades down to the floor. My hair tied up in a bun this time.My mother, Victoria, is by my side, looking every bit the part of the elegant, refined woman she is in a black velvet gown. Her blonde hair is styled in an updo.But tonight, I can tell she
Isabel’s POVAlexander yanks me to the side, and I stumble forward, almost crashing into his chest. His breath comes in short gasps, as if he’s just run a mile to catch me.I scoff, folding my arms over my chest. “Are you alright?” I ask, sarcasm dripping from my tone. “How can you just pull me out of the party like this?”His eyes blaze with fury, and before I can say more, he cuts me off. “Why do you keep pretending to be someone else? And… and I know it’s all your doing. The rumors spreading among our investors, my mother coming to you—and now this? You’re trying to paint us as beggars, claiming we begged for the contract? How low can you stoop?”I laugh, the sound cold, as I push a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “But your mother did beg. She begged me to save the King’s Empire from shame.” I fold my arms tighter, the mockery in my voice deliberate. “With folded hands, like this.” I fold my hands in plea to mimic her. “Almost with tears, asking that I keep the company’s reputati
Alexander’s POVMy hand still tingles from holding Cynthia back, but my mind is elsewhere—on her. Claire, or whoever the hell she’s claiming to be. It doesn’t make sense. Right? The face, the voice, everything is the same as Isabel’s, but she keeps claiming to be another person. How is it possible that someone can look so much alike? What if she really is Claire and not Isabel? What if I’ve been wrong this entire time? My chest tightens with the thought, the weight of doubt clawing at my sanity.Just then, Cynthia jerks her arm away, bending forward to say something to Isabel—something sharp enough to light a fuse.I stand frozen, and watch as Claire leaves, giving no attention to me. Why the fuck is she being rude?! I clench my jaw, anger bubbling beneath the surface. Cynthia’s presence beside me is almost suffocating, her anger radiating off her in waves. She rubs her cheek, where Claire’s slap left a fiery mark, her eyes burning with resentment.“Are you seriously going to let h
Isabel’s POVI lean back in my seat, the call meeting with one of our investors over. My eyes close for a moment, but my mind doesn’t follow. It drifts back to that night after the party, when I asked my mom what was going on. She brushed it off, like always, saying it was nothing. But her actions tell a different story—talks of more security, more bodyguards. Why? What could they be hiding from me?I take a deep breath, trying to make sense of it. I feel lost, like I’ve been walking through fog ever since that night five years ago. Since she’d died in my place. And yet, this feeling… it’s different. Recently. Unsettling. I remember Aurora also telling me that Cynthia had seen the kids at the welcoming party, and I can’t help but feel angry at her for keeping that from me. But at the same time, I know… I know she was only trying to keep my worries at bay. I bite my lip, pouting slightly. I shouldn’t stay mad at her for too long right? I scratch the back of my head. Feeling the w
Isabel’s POVThe air in the room feels heavier as my mother shifts slightly in her seat, her gaze following Alexander as he walks deeper into the room. Her face doesn’t reveal much—neutral as always—but there’s a flicker of unease, just enough for me to notice. She’s good at masking her feelings, but I know her well enough to sense her discomfort at seeing him here.Christine, ever efficient, nods almost immediately, slipping out of the room without a second thought. I watch her go, the click of her heels echoing softly before the door shuts behind her.Alexander stops a few feet away from where my mother sits. “Mrs. Montgomery,” he greets her, his tone formal but measured.My mother presses her lips into a thin line, her expression momentarily tightening as if debating what to say or do next. She clears her throat, her voice flat but laced with an attempt at politeness. “Thanks for bringing my daughter right on time to the hospital.” The words feel forced, her tone unable to mask the
Isabel’s POVThe sterile scent of antiseptic fills my nostrils as my eyes flutter open, blinking against the light of the room. My gaze sweeps over the white walls, the bright fluorescent lights, and the dull silver fixtures—it’s unmistakable. A hospital room.I turn my head slightly, the effort pulling a groan from my lips, and that’s when I see her. My mother. She’s seated beside me, her fingers trembling against the edge of the chair, her face a mask of worry and exhaustion.“Mom…” I croak, trying to push myself upright, but the sharp pull of pain in my limbs forces me to pause.“No, Isabel, don’t!” she exclaims, leaning forward, her hands reaching to stop me. “You don’t have to get up. Christine!” Her voice rises, sharp with urgency as she calls for Christine. “You need to rest. I’ll call the doctor now.”“I’m fine,” I manage, though the weight in my chest says otherwise. I push against the mattress again, and this time, I manage to sit up, my head throbbing in protest. Just as I
Cynthia’s POVThe laughter in our small circle drifts around me like meaningless noise as I sip my champagne. I nod politely, feigning interest, but my mind is elsewhere, unraveling threads I can’t quite pull together.Across the room, a flash of movement catches my attention. My gaze locks on Claire and my father, deep in conversation near the far corner of the hall.It’s strange. My father rarely accepts invitations, especially for events like this. He’s always preferred to keep his distance from society’s endless charades. Yet the moment he heard the name Claire Montgomery, he insisted on attending.I push the thought aside, trying to rationalize it. He’s probably just as curious as everyone else, wondering how someone could look so much like Isabel. But deep down, there’s a nagging unease I can’t quite shake.“I know it’s just business,” a voice from our group cuts into my thoughts, dragging me back. “But there’s something in the way Alexander looks at her.”The words land like a
Alexander’s POVThe moment Claire walks into the event, flanked by an entourage of bodyguards, the air shifts. She commands attention effortlessly, her mere presence drawing every eye in the room, including mine. I can’t help but stare. It’s not just her striking resemblance to Isabel—it’s everything else about her. The power she exudes, the confidence in her every step, the way she holds herself as though the world bows to her. Isabel was never like this. Isabel lived in my shadow, content to be the soft-spoken wife, the woman who leaned on me for support.Claire, though—she’s a force of nature. A far cry from the life Isabel led. And yet, despite all the reasons I’ve found to dismiss any connection between them, my gut won’t let go of the hunch. It doesn’t make sense. Why does she interest me so much?Her eyes lock with mine, just for a brief moment. There’s something unreadable in her gaze, but before I can analyze it, she tilts her head ever so slightly and places a soft smile on
Isabel’s POVMy heart races, pounding against my ribs like a desperate drumbeat as I strain to make sense of the suffocating dark. My fingers claw at the air, searching for something, anything, but it’s too dark to see. Too dark to breathe. And then I hear it—or think I do—a steady, deliberate breath. It’s close. Too close. A man’s breath, growing louder with every second, each sound a knife against my sanity.Panic grips me like a vice, my throat tightening as I suppress the urge to scream. Who could feel sane in a moment like this? The imagined sound grows heavier, impossibly near, and my mind spirals into chaos. Is he standing in front of me? Watch me? Waiting? My heart slams against my chest as if it’s trying to break free. The darkness feels alive, pressing in, trapping me.Then, like a cruel twist of fate, the lights flicker back on. My vision adjusts, and the room reclaims its reality. He isn’t too close: there’s no breath on my neck. It was all in my head. But there he is—
Isabel’s POVFelix Castillo approaches me with the kind of calm confidence that only someone of his stature can carry. His glass of champagne catches the light as he raises it in a mock toast, his lips curling into a small smile. “Miss Montgomery,” he greets, his tone smooth, polished, almost theatrical. I respond with a curt nod and a polite smile, masking the unease bubbling beneath my composed exterior.“Finally, I get the chance to talk to you,” he says, letting a soft laugh escape. “I think I should feel honored.”I don’t get the joke, but I force a cheeky smile, hoping it’s enough to mask my confusion. He leans in slightly, his dark eyes sharp yet unreadable. “You’re quite interesting,” he remarks.My brow furrows ever so slightly, though I quickly smooth it out. “What do you mean by that, Mr. Castillo?” I ask, keeping my tone professional, unwilling to let him see that his words have put me on edge.His lips lift in a softer smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Simply
Isabel’s POVThe applause is polite, the kind that fills the void but lacks sincerity. Cynthia stands on the stage, the perfect picture of poise. Her smile is calculated, her words carefully chosen as she speaks about the partnership.“This foundation,” she begins, her voice smooth like honey yet edged with steel, “is about creating opportunities for those in need, and I can’t do it without our incredible partners. And, of course, a special volunteer who so graciously dedicates her time to this cause—Claire Montgomery.”Her words hang in the air, drawing a wave of approving murmurs from the crowd. I know exactly what she’s doing—painting me as the willing participant in her grand narrative, carefully crafting the story she wants the world to see.When she gestures toward me, I plaster on a polite smile and move toward the stage. The applause swells as I climb the steps, the weight of every camera in the room pressing down on me. The event host’s voice booms, welcoming me with an enthu
Isabel’s POVThe sound of my mother’s worried voice pulls me back into the present as she says softly, “If you want, I can go with you to the event.”I shake my head gently, offering a faint smile. “You don’t have to worry about me, Mom. I’ll be good.”Aurora, my ever-outspoken sister, immediately interjects. “Now that’s a lie. How can you be okay? Sis, this is Cynthia we’re talking about here. You, of all people, should know how cunning and evil she is. She betrayed you, remember? And had an affair with your husband! She can literally do anything just to get what she wants.”Her words hang in the air like a blade, slicing through the tenuous peace of the room. My eyes flick to Aurora, and she immediately clamps her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbles, her voice subdued. “I didn’t mean to bring that up. It’s just… you’re getting too close to them, and I’m worried.”I glance at my mother, who nods solemnly, her agreement written across her face.A sigh escapes my lips, long and w
Cynthia’s POVThe night hums with energy as I stand near the entrance, a practiced smile on my face. The gown I chose—a sleek, emerald-green number that hugs my figure and flares slightly at the hem—glimmers under the soft amber lights. Diamond earrings dangle from my ears, catching every flicker of light, while my hair is swept into a perfect chignon, leaving no strand out of place.Guests arrive steadily, each greeted with my charm and poise. Alexander is off to the side, mingling with a group of well-dressed individuals, his expression unreadable as always. My father’s presence, though, is the real surprise tonight.I recall our earlier conversation. He hadn’t been interested, his disinterest as familiar as the cold indifference I grew up with—until I mentioned my partner. His response had been subtle, his face betraying nothing, but I felt the shift. Something about Claire Montgomery intrigued him. And here he is tonight, standing among the city’s elite. I purse my lips, half-smil