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 watch Cynthia’s retreating figure, her confident stride infuriating me further as her words echo in my mind. My hands clench at my sides, the anger rising like a tide. I had kept my composure during the conversation, but now, alone with my thoughts, the fury simmers dangerously close to boiling over.Her smugness lingers, like a bitter aftertaste. I replay the conversation in my mind, each word of hers fueling my anger further. My jaw tightens, my thoughts spiraling.“Ma’am?” Christine’s soft voice pulls me from my thoughts. I glance sideways to see her watching me patiently, her sharp eyes catching the tension radiating from me. She says nothing, but I can tell she’s waiting for a cue.I exhale deeply, forcing myself to let go of the anger, at least outwardly. “Let’s go,” I say, my voice steady despite the storm inside.Christine follows as I step out of my office, my heels clicking against the polished floors with an authoritative rhythm. The sound steadies me, grounds
Alexander’s POVThe room is charged with an undercurrent of tension as Claire takes her seat, her movements deliberate, measured. I adjust the cuffs of my suit, smoothing down the lapel with a practiced motion. The tailored fabric clings to me perfectly, but even its precision doesn’t ease the tightening in my chest. I pick up the paper in front of me, forcing myself to focus as the meeting begins.Her gaze catches mine, just for a moment. My jaw tightens lightly—lightly enough to go unnoticed. I won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing the effect she has on me.As the presentation starts, I keep my focus on the slides being displayed, the voices of my team droning on in the background. Yet, out of the corner of my eye, I see her. She’s glancing at me, her fingers pressing too hard on the fabric swatches in her hand. What’s going through her head? Is she testing me? Waiting for me to falter?Does she think I’ll be affected by her anymore? I scoff inwardly. Definitely not. She’s not t
Isabel’s POVThe steady click of my heels echoes down the hallway as I make my way out of the boardroom. Their shocked faces flash through my mind, and I can’t help the soft smile that plays on my lips. They’re not ready for what’s coming their way. Not even close.But just as I’m savoring the moment, I stop in my tracks. Standing a few feet ahead is Roy, hands tucked casually into his pockets, his relaxed demeanor almost unnerving. The calmness flashing across his face contrasts sharply with the tense air I just left behind.For a second, I think I’m imagining things. Roy? Here? My gaze darts briefly to Christine, who glances between him and me with a curious look, her eyes flicking over my expression as if trying to gauge my reaction.My shock must be evident because Roy chuckles softly, his deep voice breaking through my thoughts as he takes a deliberate step closer, the soft click of his polished shoes filling the air. He stops right in front of me, still smiling, and says, “Hi.” H
Alexander’s POVI try to pull my gaze away, but my eyes are glued to them, my mind screaming at me to look anywhere but there. But I can’t. I fight it, wrestle with the urge to turn my head, but my gaze lingers on Roy and Claire, still hovering too close. Susan and the others must sense the tension radiating off me, but Susan, ever the professional, stays quiet. I can feel her eyes darting to me, then back to them, probably trying to figure out what’s eating at me. But it’s not something I can explain.Seeing Roy standing so close to Claire, his face mere inches from hers, stings more than I want to admit. For a brief moment, something stirs in me—something sharp and foreign. It’s jealousy. I hate the feeling. How could I possibly be jealous? I don’t even know this woman, not really. She’s not Isabel. I know that. My heart shouldn’t be reacting to her like this, but it clenches anyway, traitorous and unrelenting. I refuse to let it happen again. Falling for someone who looks like her
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,
Isabel’s POVI glance down at my phone again, rereading the message.Don’t worry about picking up the kids, I already got them. Just hurry up to Rosewood Terrace.My brows pull together. Why would Mom want me to hurry up to her? A quiet sense of unease stirs in my chest. I hope there’s nothing wrong. I thought she was still in the middle of that interview?“Change of plans,” I say, breaking the silence. Christine looks over at me, but I don’t elaborate, and she doesn’t push.Travis nods, adjusting his grip on the wheel as he accelerates toward the given location. The hum of the car fills the space, but my mind is restless, running through possibilities.Soon, we pull up to Rosewood Terrace. I take in the surroundings—the warm glow of string lights draped over the outdoor space, the scent of fresh roses lingering in the crisp evening air. There’s an intimacy to the atmosphere, something quiet yet deliberate.Stepping out, I spot her. “Mom.” My voice carries a hint of urgency as I walk
Isabel’s POVI step into the newly built condo, my heels clicking against the polished marble floors. The scent of fresh paint and new beginnings lingers in the air, but all I can think about is the past.This place was once nothing but a blueprint, an idea buried under countless arguments and power struggles with Alexander. The battles over design choices, the endless boardroom meetings, the silent wars we waged in between. I still remember the night before the launch party, standing on the balcony, exhausted yet victorious, knowing that despite everything, I had left my mark on this building. And now, here I am again—without him, but still standing.Christine walks beside me, flipping through her tablet, reading out company updates as we move through the hallways. Her voice is a distant hum in my ears until something—someone—catches my eye.A figure. A fleeting glimpse. Familiar.My breath catches as I turn sharply, my gaze locking onto the spot where I swear I just saw her. Aurora.
Cynthia’s POVThe words hit me harder than I expect. For a second, I don’t just freeze—I fold inward. Because I remember.God. That night.The message did go through.Back then, I had told myself it didn’t. I’d convinced myself I never hit send, or maybe that it landed in a void, unread, unseen. But hearing those exact words repeated now—my words—I know there’s no denying it anymore.“Hi, this is Cynthia Castillo. Can we meet?”I had typed it after one too many glasses of wine, my nerves on fire from Sabrina’s constant nudging. She’d kept insisting Alexander connect with Claire Montgomery—for some business shit, something about how her influence could open doors or elevate their image. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to see what kind of woman this Claire really was. So I sent that message. From my bedroom. Alone, tipsy, and stupid.When nothing came, I let myself believe it was a mistake I’d gotten away with. But now…Hearing her repeat it, in this room, in front of everyone—Shame
Isabel’s POVSilence. Heavy. Suffocating.Cynthia’s eyes lock onto mine, dark and brimming with something between fury and disbelief. The weight of Robert’s words still lingers in the air, thick as smoke, curling around the room and seeping into every crack of tension. I watch as her lips part, then press together—like she’s trying to swallow the impossible.Then, she laughs. A hollow, humorless sound. Sharp. Cold.“You’re joking, right?”Her voice carries a brittle edge, like a glass just before it shatters. But there’s no amusement in her expression. Only the slight tremor in her fingers betrays the frustration simmering beneath her carefully built walls.Robert doesn’t answer. Instead, he steps forward, measured and unshaken, before dropping the file right in front of her. The sound echoes, a dull thud that cuts through the air like a final verdict.Cynthia’s gaze flickers downward. Her grip tightens around the edge of the file as her eyes scan the words, absorbing the reality of w
Isabel’s POV“Ma’am, are you sure about this?”Christine’s voice cuts through the stillness of my office, careful yet firm. I pause mid-motion, my fingers grazing the edge of my desk as my mind momentarily drifts.I had given her the instruction earlier. A video will be going up soon—a direct response to Cynthia’s pathetic attempt to smear my name. She started this war, going public and painting me as some villain. The hell with her.I never intended for things to escalate this far. Initially, all I wanted was to rub it in their faces—how it feels to have someone more powerful breathing down their necks, disrupting their perfect little world. To make their marriage a sweet, bitter hell. Because they both deserved it. After everything they had done, this was the least of what they should suffer.But I was too calm about it. Too merciful.Cynthia has always loved to bark. Loud, persistent, desperate for attention. But now… now I’ll show her what happens when you bark without the bite to
Cynthia’s POVThe air in the boardroom is thick with unspoken thoughts. The executives sit stiffly around the long table, their gazes flicking between one another, avoiding direct eye contact with me. Some fidget with their pens, others drum their fingers against the table, their silence louder than words.I clear my throat, leaning forward slightly, my fingers locking together as I scan each of them. “I know you’re all wondering why this meeting,” I begin, my voice even, measured. “And I also know that none of you are strangers to the news.”The reaction is immediate—bodies shifting, pens stilled, a few glances exchanged. A chair creaks as someone adjusts their posture. Some try to mask their discomfort, their expressions carefully neutral, but I see it. I feel it.My temples throb, and I press my fingers against them briefly before exhaling sharply. “Yes, I know I agreed to the partnership with Claire.” My voice is steady, but there’s a deliberate pause before I continue, my nails p
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