Isabel’s POVI turn to face Scarlett, forcing a smile as I bend to her level. “Honey,” I begin gently, “but Uncle Roy isn’t your real dad. So how can he be your daddy?”Scarlett blinks, scratching her little fingers through her curls, the same way she does when she’s thinking hard. She takes a breath, letting herself sink deeper into the chair. “Then where’s our real dad?” she asks softly.The question hits like a weight in my chest. I let out a sigh—a deep, lingering sigh that leaves me with my mouth half open, words caught somewhere I can’t reach.I rub a hand over my forehead, feeling the tension coil there, and close my eyes for a brief moment. When I open them, Scarlett’s small hand slips into mine, her voice soft but insistent.“Then… Uncle Roy can just be our daddy, right?” Her fingers squeeze mine, as if holding on to the hope that might make it true. “Everyone in school has a daddy, and their daddy picks them up.” She looks up at me, eyes wide, pleading. “Mommy… let Uncle Roy
Isabel’s POVThe conference room buzzes with lively discussion as we delve into the progress of the condo project. Design boards are spread across the table, showcasing various aspects of the interiors and the architectural vision.I flip through the design boards, nodding at the team’s progress, but my mind drifts for a fleeting moment to Scarlett’s question yesterday. “Mommy, can’t uncle Roy be our dad?” Her small voice had been filled with curiosity, her wide eyes searching mine for an answer I wasn’t ready to give.The memory tugs at my chest, a mix of guilt and confusion swirling within me. Scarlett’s innocence made her question feel so simple, yet the truth was anything but. I force myself to push the thought aside. There’s too much at stake with this project to let my emotions derail me right now.“Have you seen the social buzz surrounding the condo project?” Emily, our chief architect, asks, flipping through a tablet displaying a series of trending articles and social media po
Alexander’s POVAs I pull up to the Flaming Academy, Collins’s words echo in my mind: “Those kids, they go to the same school as your daughter, Sophia. And their names are Scarlett and Sterling.”Today, though, I’m not here for Sophia. No, today is about finding answers—about facing something that’s gnawed at me for far too long.I scan the groups of children, and then, I see them.Scarlett’s the first to catch my eye—dark, curly hair styled to perfection, her stance strikingly similar to Isabel’s. I can’t ignore the way she carries herself, a quiet confidence in her small frame. And then there’s Sterling. When our eyes meet, I see my own blue eyes mirrored back at me. A chill runs through me. How? But I push the thought aside, telling myself I’m overthinking it.Clearing my throat, I approach them, forcing a smile, my voice smooth but not as confident as I’d like. “Hey there. Remember me?” I crouch down to meet their curious eyes.Scarlett’s eyes narrow slightly as she studies me. Th
Isabel’s POVRoy’s foot slams down on the pedal, and the car surges forward, slicing through the evening traffic with single-minded purpose. My heart pounds in time with the engine’s roar, relentless, as I keep redialing the number. It’s the one that shattered my world earlier with a single word: “Mom.” Every ring gets me close to them.As we pull into the park, I’m out of the car before it fully stops, the cool breeze biting against my skin. But it does nothing to cool the storm raging inside me. I barely notice it. All I see is the expanse of the park stretching before me, and all I feel is the terror clawing at my throat. I run, calling out for them, each shout tinged with desperation. My voice shakes as I cry their names, “Scarlett! Sterling!” Until, finally, I see them—two small figures, my babies. Relief floods through me, my knees almost giving out as I call out again, my voice breaking. I run, wrapping my arms around them, and I feel my arms shaking as I hold them tight.
Alexander’s POVSeveral times my phone rings, Claire’s name flashing across the screen. I press it into Sterling’s small hand, switching it to speaker mode. He relays directions, guiding Claire to the exact spot at the parkHer voice comes through, growing more frantic with each instruction.Then, in an instant, a loud scream pierces the air. “Scarlett! Sterling!”I turn, and there she is—Claire. She rushes toward us, eyes filled with a mixture of terror and relief.“Mommy!” they chorus, rushing to her as she pulls them close. Her tears spill freely, and something heavy settles in my chest. So, it’s true. She’s their mother.Watching her cradle them, my heart twists. A strange, raw ache courses through me.But as she straightens up, her eyes lock on mine, and a flicker of something runs through them—maybe fear? But it’s gone in an instant. Her expression shifts from disbelief to something fiercer—fury.“How dare you take my kids without my permission?” she spits, her voice trembling,
Alexander’s POVI stagger through the front door, my head spinning and my chest tight with the weight of today. Each step feels heavier, dragging me deeper into the pit of everything I’ve uncovered.The liquor burns in my veins, but nothing numbs the sting of realizing that Claire—Isabel’s lookalike—is indeed the mother of those kids. And Roy is their father. The pain feels like a weight crushing my chest, sharper than anything I’ve felt in years.I push through the double doors, ignoring the maid’s greeting as I stumble past them, not even glancing up.My feet drag me to my room, where I collapse onto the bed. The mattress bounces under me as I struggle to pull my tie off, the fabric tangling in my drunken hands.Just then, the door swings open, and Cynthia storms in, her face flushed with anger.“Where have you been all day?” Her voice cuts through the alcohol fog clouding my mind, and I lift my head, the dull throb behind my eyes intensifying.“I don’t have time for this drama right
Cynthia’s POVI wake up with a satisfied smile, thinking maybe I’ve been overreacting for nothing. Alexander is gradually warming up to me. Last night was proof—he slept with me. I can hardly contain the thrill that rushes through me; this is what I’ve been waiting for, and it’s finally happening. Once again, I feel like I have won without having to do much. Claire’s resemblance to Isabel, her presence, it means nothing now. She has no place between us.I turn over to face Alexander, sliding closer as I say, “Happy you’re finally letting me in.” But his response stops me cold. I feel my fingers clutch at the fabric of my dress, my jaw tightening. What does that mean? Did he just sleep with me for the sake of it? No, he wouldn’t do that. He loves me—I just have to make him realize it. I force a sweet smile, pretending not to notice the sting of his words, and give him a casual reply before I slip out of the room. As soon as I close the door to my own room, fury roars to life insi
Isabel’s POVI look down at the prototype building plan beside my office window, tracing my fingers over its edges as the door opens quietly behind me. I know it’s her—I don’t need to turn around.Instead, I keep my focus on the plans, allowing her to take in the silence as she makes her entrance. “Wow, is this really how you welcome people to your office?” Cynthia finally breaks the stillness, letting out a mocking sigh.She strides over, dropping her bag onto the chair before settling in like she owns the place. “You don’t even talk to them? Just ignore them?” A smile tugs at my lips as I turn to her. “Not for someone I wasn’t exactly expecting,” I reply smoothly, watching her reaction. “Coffee?” I ask, reaching over to start the machine. She clicks her tongue and gives a slow, deliberate nod, her chin tilting just slightly, as if she’s doing me a favor.The coffee machine hums as I press down, filling the cup with rich, dark coffee, and I place it in front of her before taking m
Aria POVThe moment I step into the LM Group building, I can feel it—the air is tense, buzzing with something unspoken. It’s in the way the receptionists glance nervously at each other, in the hushed footsteps of employees scurrying past, trying not to draw attention.But it’s when I step further inside that I spot her.Cynthia.She stands like she owns the damn place, as always. Her shoulders back, head high, the kind of look that screams drama cloaked in luxury. A slow, knowing smile tugs at the corner of my lips. Of course she’s here. Probably to pull one of her usual stunts—perform for the gallery like she hasn’t already been exposed. But who would still be sane, knowing just how close they are to losing everything?I barely had to do anything. And yet… now she’s standing right in the middle of her downfall, finally receiving the punishment she deserves.That thought comforts me—for a second.Until I see her turn toward Isabel.I can’t hear what she says, but I see it happen. I se
Isabel’s POVI step out into the cool air, letting the heavy door click shut behind me. A breath pushes past my lips as I lift my face toward the sky, the breeze brushing over my skin like a silent reward.“That was cool,” I murmur to myself, nodding slightly. “You don’t have to let Alexander’s presence affect you. Never again.”He’s not worth it—not the pain, not the confusion, and certainly not the space in my heart. A man who can look you dead in the eye and question your safety like it’s a business inconvenience doesn’t deserve to be kept anywhere near your soul.My hand curls into a fist at my side, nails biting into my palm.“I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he stays far away from my life for good.”I turn to walk toward my car, heels clicking steadily across the pavement. But just as I reach for the handle, a shift in the air stills me. That familiar scent—too expensive, too calculated—hits before I even see her.Sabrina.The mother hen.Of course.I blink, inhale slowly,
Alexander’s POVThe moment Susan steps in and sees my hand clamped tightly around Isabel’s arm, the look on her face says it all—shock, confusion, maybe even fear. I release her instantly. Not because she asked me to. But because I don’t want this to be misread. I don’t need anyone forming conclusions that aren’t true.I clear my throat, jaw tight. “What is it I have to see?”Susan’s body stills like a paused frame, her eyes flicking between Isabel and me, her lips parted but words refusing to come out. I catch her hesitation, the way her fingers tighten around the phone in her hand.“It’s okay. Go ahead,” I tell her, forcing calm into my voice.Isabel crosses her arms as Susan steps forward, her face blank, almost like she’s suddenly detached. She stretches the phone toward me like she doesn’t care how it lands.I take it and press play.My breath stills the moment Isabel’s face appears on screen—teary, delicate, almost too damn convincing.“I and Cynthia have been friends for long n
Isabel’s POVI walk through the glossy marbled floors of the King’s Empire building, each step echoing with purpose. The air is thick with quiet power—assistants darting between elevators, phones ringing in clipped urgency, polished shoes tapping rhythmically against glass floors. But none of it touches me. My focus is razor-sharp.Strike when the iron is hot.Perfect timing isn’t just a tactic—it’s an art.And right now? The fire’s raging.I don’t stop to greet anyone. I don’t pause when heads turn. I know where I’m going.Alexander’s office.When I reach the door, I don’t knock. I push it open with a practiced ease. Bold. Unapologetic.His face lifts from the document he’s reading, surprise—or is that shock?—etching deep into his features. Understandable. I’m not the type to show up uninvited. But today?Today, I’ll bend the rules.If only to twist the reaction I want out of him.He stands slowly, like a lion woken from his throne, cautious but alert. I wrap my arms around my chest,
Isabel’s POV I’m in the middle of a meeting with the team, my fingers tapping lightly against the polished table surface as voices buzz around me. But my mind… my mind drifts elsewhere. It drifts back to that moment at The Elites, to Cynthia’s face—her expression shifting like crashing waves. Shock. Anger. Confusion. Disbelief.The thrill of it makes me scoff under my breath, an involuntary laugh slipping through. A few heads snap in my direction. I quickly adjust in my seat, placing my hand over my lips like I’m clearing my throat. Too late.“Ma’am?” one of the team leads leans in, cautious but direct. “What are we going to do about the event location? Time’s running out. As of now, we still don’t have a confirmed venue.”I nod, slow and thoughtful. Their concern is valid. “We were supposed to partner with The Regency,” I say, voice calm but clipped. “Carl turned us down at the last minute.” My jaw tenses slightly. “Now, it’s either we go back to partnering with The King’s… or we se
Cynthia’s POVHe walks toward me calmly, like a man who didn’t just have his secret ripped from the shadows and laid bare. Without a word, he plucks the photo from my trembling fingers, bends slowly to pick up the book, and straightens with a sigh like this is nothing more than an inconvenience. Like my entire world hasn’t just shifted.He turns his back to me, facing the far end of the room with that irritating stillness he always uses when he’s trying to dismiss a situation.I blink. Once. Twice. The coolness in his posture stuns me—it’s a stark, calculated contrast to what I expected. No shouting. No denial. Just silence. But I refuse to let him act like he doesn’t owe me an explanation.“If you’re here to ask for money again,” he says, his voice hard and sharp, “then just leave. I’m not wasting my money on you—especially not when you’ll end up spending it on shopping sprees.”He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even turn. And that’s what sends my pulse spiking. He’s ignoring it. All of it.
Cynthia’s POVI slam my leg into the air, nearly losing balance as rage swells inside me like a storm. My fists clench tightly by my sides, nails digging into my palms. My mind won’t stop replaying the scene—her smirk, her voice, the smug way Isabel claimed ownership of the flagship store like it was hers all along. And the audacity—the unforgivable nerve—to send me out like I was nothing. Canceling my membership card like I was some common outsider.I scream, the sound raw and guttural, before slamming my hand against the tire of my car. “Damn you, Isabel. Damn you!” I shout again, louder this time. “Who the hell do you think you are?!”My chest heaves, and I pause for a second, my rage momentarily paralyzed by the weight of humiliation. Then, without thinking twice, I yank the car door open and slide in, slamming it shut behind me. My foot hits the gas like I’m crushing every ounce of rage Isabel left behind, and I tear out of the parking lot.Minutes blur together before I’m pul
Isabel’s POVI smooth my hand over the silk fabric hugging my body, taking in the sight of myself in the mirror. A slow, calculating smile tugs at my lips. “Today,” I murmur to my reflection, “I’m going to reveal a part of me Cynthia never knew about. A part I placed in her life for a moment exactly like this.”My fingers graze the velvet box on the vanity, lifting it to reveal a set of emerald-encrusted earrings—bold, elegant, quiet power. As I slip them on, I think of her. I know how much of a big spender Cynthia is. Shopping is her escape when the walls start to close in, when the guilt begins to whisper. But how will it feel when she finally discovers the mastermind behind the elite group she so shamelessly parades around in? The very empire she thought was her playground—mine.Just as I pick up my bracelet, the door bursts open.“Well, well…” Aurora says, arms crossed, eyes twinkling. “I guess today’s the day. I’ve been waiting for this moment forever. Do you know how annoying it
Cynthia’s POVThe glow of the TV screen is the first thing I see when I wake up. The news stares back at me, unrelenting. The same interview that has been flooding the internet since yesterday plays on loop, as if daring me to react.I sit up slowly, pulling my knees to my stomach. My fingers thread through my hair, pushing it back as I take a deep breath. But the words keep replaying, burning themselves into my mind.“It’s true that my daughter Claire is also known as Isabel—the name she has been known for since she was separated from us. We decided to hide the fact that she’s Isabel for her safety.”Victoria Montgomery’s voice feels distant, but it still hits me like a blade.I throw the covers aside, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. My throat feels dry, my chest tightening with something I refuse to name. I reach for the glass pitcher on the nightstand, pouring water into a glass with unsteady hands. The water swirls as I lift it to my lips and down it in one swift gulp,