Dearest Readers, Wishing you a joyous holiday season filled with love, peace, and happiness. Thank you once again for being a part of my journey, and I hope this season brings you the best celebrations ever!
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 POVI make my way to the private gym that is tucked into the west wing of the mansion, right past the study. It’s one of Aurora’s favorite places, a sanctuary she treats with the same devotion as her morning coffee. For her, this space isn’t just about fitness—it’s her escape. I can see why. The polished floors gleam, and the glass doors let in the soft light from the garden outside, making the space feel open and alive.As I walk in, the familiar hum of the machines fills the air. Aurora is on the treadmill, her strides steady and determined. Sweat beads on her forehead, glistening under the lights as her focus remains unshaken. Watching her like this always motivates me. She’s relentless, committed to every goal she sets.Her eyes flick toward me, and a faint smile plays on her lips as she slows the machine to a stop. She grabs the small towel hanging off the side, dabbing her face and neck before she speaks.“I bet you’re not here for this, are you?” she teases, her voice
Isabel’s POVLooking at Nadia, I can tell she’s deeply worried about something. Her grip on the clipboard is tight, her expression pinched with stress.“I’ll be right back,” I say, excusing myself from Roy and Aurora. Nadia follows me as I step aside, already bracing myself for whatever bad news she’s about to deliver.When we reach the corner, I turn to face her. “What’s wrong?”She exhales, shifting uncomfortably. “The main models for the shoot—both of them—aren’t coming. Last-minute emergency.”My stomach drops. “Both?”She nods grimly. “The female lead model canceled first, and then her male counterpart followed. I reached out to the agency, but they don’t have replacements available today.”I pinch the bridge of my nose, swallowing the frustration rising in my throat. The main models were supposed to be the face of this collection—the ones leading the campaign. Without them, the entire vision we planned is compromised.“And you’re just telling me this now?” I ask, keeping my voic
Isabel’s POVMy heels click sharply against the polished tiles as I stride into the shooting scene, commanding attention without a word. Aurora trails behind, her steps lighter but equally poised. Heads turn as we pass, and the air shifts, a ripple of greetings and smiles flowing through the crew.“Good morning, ma’am.”“Welcome, Ms. Montgomery.”They nod and smile, but something feels… off. There’s a tension, a subtle hum of unease in the air. Murmurs ripple like a secret thread weaving through the room. I catch fleeting glances, the way their eyes dart back to their phones, then quickly flick up to meet mine before they school their features into polite expressions.I stop, crossing my arms, my gaze narrowing as I glance at Aurora. She shrugs nonchalantly, feigning ignorance. “Don’t look at me,” her expression says.Flipping my hair to the side, I turn back to the crew. “Is there something I need to know?” My voice cuts through the air, calm but commanding.They fidget, exchanging u
Isabel’s POVThe moment I open my eyes, the weight of yesterday crashes down on me. The school event was supposed to be a celebration, but instead, it became a battlefield, thanks to Sophia and Scarlett. My head pounds as the scene replays in my mind: Sophia shoving Scarlett, Scarlett retaliating, and Alexander stepping in to demand Scarlett apologize. A scoff escapes my lips, bitterness tightening my chest. Seriously? Even when Sophia started it, he still sided with her? Is that the kind of father he is? Is that how he raises his child—to believe she can do no wrong?My eyes widen at the thought, and my pulse quickens. Glad he’s nowhere near my children. If he were, they’d grow up demanding, controlling, and belittling others just like him, thinking the world revolves around them because they’re dripping in wealth. I push my hair back, exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The tension in my shoulders barely eases as Roy’s voice from last night surfaces in my thoughts.
Alexander’s POVThe air inside the house is thick, pressing against me like a weighted blanket. I drag my legs forward, the school event replaying in my mind—the fleeting expressions, the whispers, the moment I’d reached for her before catching myself. Frustration coils in my chest, winding tighter with each step.Then—“Alexander.”Cynthia’s voice stops me in my tracks. My jaw clenches as I glance at Sophia, then back at Cynthia. I already know whatever she’s about to say won’t be good. Sophia clutches at Cynthia’s dress, her small fingers digging into the fabric. Before I can tell Emma to take her to her room, Cynthia lashes out.“Isn’t there something you aren’t telling me?Her voice is sharp, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. I hesitate for a fraction of a second before calling for Emma. The nanny appears instantly, her gaze flickering between us as I motion toward Sophia.“Take her upstairs.”Emma gently coaxes Sophia away. I wait until she disappears down the hallw
Alexander’s POVSophia beams as she holds up her award, but I can see it—the hollow look behind her smile, the way her shoulders slump ever so slightly despite the bright lights and applause. She’s always dreamed of winning, of being the star, yet now that she’s here, the excitement doesn’t seem to reach her eyes. The crowd’s cheers die down as Isabel and Roy step onto the stage, radiant and confident, their faces practically glowing with pride.The camera flashes catch them from every angle—Isabel’s eyes alight with joy, her hand on Roy’s arm, his expression full of warmth as they stand close to the kids. They look like a scene from a picture-perfect movie, the kind where the family radiates love and unity.Even the murmur in the crowd agrees, snippets of conversation floating around me—“Is that their father?” “They look like they walked out of a fairytale.” “What a beautiful family.”I can’t stand it. Not a second more. I feel fury boiling up inside of me—how dare they look so… perf
Isabel’s POVThe auditorium hums with quiet anticipation, the tension in the air thicker than it should be for a children’s event. But this is not just any school gathering—it’s a performance showcase at one of LA’s most prestigious early childhood academies. Every parent here knows that their child’s recognition isn’t just about talent; it’s about status.The stage is framed by velvet curtains, the soft glow of warm lights making it feel grand. The children, dressed in their best, sit neatly in rows, their small faces bright with excitement and nerves. Scarlett and Sterling performed a heartfelt poem earlier, their voices clear and confident, and I couldn’t have been prouder.At the judges’ table, a tall, elegant woman leans toward her colleagues in whispered discussion. The murmurs of the audience fade as she finally rises and steps onto the stage, the click of her heels sharp against the polished floor.“Thank you all for being here today,” she begins, her voice carrying easily. “E
Isabel’s POVI watch as Alexander walks away, Cynthia’s arm entwined with his, comfortable, at ease. My chest tightens with a dull ache. What did I expect? Some foolish part of me years ago believed I was the one he wanted—someone he’d choose, again and again.But now I know better.Just as they move inside, I catch Collins falling back a few paces, his gaze lingering on Aria. There’s a flicker of something I can’t quite name—warmth, curiosity, maybe even longing—in the way he watches her. When Aria looks up and meets his eyes, she smiles, a soft, hesitant curve on her lips that hints at something deeper, something unspoken between them.My mind flickers back to when I first noticed them together. At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it—just a passing glance, a brief moment. But now, seeing this, I realize there’s more to it.How long has this been going on? How did I not see it before?Collins was always entangled in my marriage with Alexander, observing from the sidelines, his quie
Alexander’s POVCollins leans back, stretching his arms with a relaxed grin. “Glad I don’t have any commitments today,” he says, his tone light and easy. “So I can watch your little girl perform.” There’s a note of warmth in his voice, a genuine happiness that I can’t ignore.I glance at him, catching the glow of contentment on his face. Collins has always been good with Sophia, treating her like his own. I guess that’s how it goes when you’re friends for as long as we’ve been. I shift my focus back to the road and give him a quick smile. “I know, right? You seem even happier than I am.” We both chuckle, and the sound is a welcome distraction from the nerves brewing in my stomach.“Thanks for sticking around, buddy,” I say, relief mingling with the gratitude in my voice. “The meetings had me hooked, but I’m glad I was able to round up.” I check my watch and feel a wave of anxiety. “I hope it hasn’t started yet. This event is so important to Sophia, and I don’t want to miss it like I d
Isabel’s POVScarlett twirls in her pale pink tulle dress, her laughter ringing through the room. “Do I look like a princess, Mommy?” she asks, her eyes sparkling. The rhinestones on her dress catch the light, making her look every bit the star she dreams of being.“You look more than a princess, sweetheart. You’re a queen,” I reply, adjusting her bow. Sterling stands quietly, his soft cream shirt and Beige pants perfectly tailored. His little hands are clasped in front of him, his expression calm. My gentle boy, so different from his sister, yet a perfect counterbalance to her boundless energy.I smooth my crimson satin gown, the fabric cool against my skin. The sleek design hugs my figure, the slit at the side allowing just enough movement to stride gracefully. My diamond earrings sparkle subtly, a reflection of the Montgomery elegance. Aurora is beside me, dressed in a tailored emerald green sheath dress that complements her gold hair. She leans down, helping Scarlett adjust her s