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
Alexander’s POVI straighten the cuffs of my crisp white shirt, the soft cotton fabric smooth beneath my fingers. The charcoal-gray suit I’ve chosen for today is tailored to perfection, hugging my frame with precision. Picking up a navy-blue tie, I step in front of the mirror. The morning light filters through the blinds, casting a sharp gleam on the polished surface.As I lift the tie to my collar and begin to knot it, her face appears. Her eyes, her soft yet unyielding gaze, lock onto mine through the reflection. For a moment, it feels as though Claire Montgomery herself is staring back at me, her expression unreadable but haunting. My breath hitches.Isabel.No. I force myself to focus on the tie. My hands falter as I mutter, “I think I might have been so foolish in believing too much.” I pull the knot tighter. “This woman might look like Isabel, but she’s far from being her.” My jaw clenches as I release a heavy sigh, smoothing the tie against my chest.I make a decision then, reso
Isabel’s POVI’m home. Finally. But peace? Nowhere in sight.“See why I never supported you returning?” My mother’s voice cuts through the air, thick with frustration. She paces the room, eyes sharp with anger. “That evil girl Cynthia will never let you rest! Look at this—she’s already revealed your true identity to the public. What next? She’ll paint you as a cheat? How shameless can she be? And now, she dares to spread lies, saying you’re not even a Montgomery!”She throws her phone onto the coffee table, her chest rising and falling as she exhales sharply. I just sit there, staring at the screen, the comments from Cynthia’s post flashing in my mind.Isabel Montgomery? Isn’t that Claire?No way! Claire and Isabel might look alike, but their class is different!Claire is classy and polished—Isabel? Not so much.Maybe she was hiding in plain sight all along.Some believed it, others refused to. The debate raged on.Just then, Aurora bursts in, shopping bags in hand, excitement shining
Isabel’s POVThe words Cynthia said yesterday still linger in my mind, threading through my thoughts no matter how much I try to push them aside. I barely slept, replaying every single thing she said—her smug tone, the veiled warnings.But I don’t have time to dwell on that now. There’s work to be done.Christine steps in just as I’m scanning through the final details of a document.“Ma’am,” she calls, her voice even but carrying an edge of urgency.I hum in acknowledgment, eyes still on the screen, my fingers skimming the text.“We’ve received an official message from The Regency Hotel,” she continues. “They’ve canceled our application to use their venue for the upcoming event.”That gets my attention. My head lifts sharply. “What?” My brows knit. “How? You mean Carl is rejecting our connection?”Christine nods.I lean back into my chair, disbelief settling in. “Wait, I don’t get it. He was the one interested first. He’s been more excited than anyone about having us.” I shake my head
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