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
Roy’s POVThe meeting ends with a firm handshake, the client’s enthusiastic agreement still ringing in my ears. Normally, I’d relish the satisfaction of sealing another deal, but my mind has already drifted elsewhere. To her. Isabel.Ever since the news of her renewing the contract with King’s Empire broke, I’ve been restless. It’s not just business; it’s what it implies. There will be constant communication between her and Alexander now. I can’t ignore it. It’s like a slow drip of unease, wearing me down.I lean back in my chair, my gaze fixed on the city skyline through my office window. Isabel’s never looked at me the way she used to look at Alexander. I’ve known her for years, shared so much with her, but there’s something in her eyes whenever Alexander’s name comes up. Even when she insists she’s done with him, that all she feels is hatred, I see it. That flicker of something deeper.It’s not just anger—it’s hurt. And maybe, buried beneath the pain, there’s still something else.
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
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
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 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.
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 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