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 s
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
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
Alexander’s POVI stand outside the door, staring at the smooth wooden surface as if it holds the answers to my hesitation. Christine’s words echo in my head: She’s awake now.I should go in.I shouldn’t.The decision feels heavier than it should, like the air pressing against my chest. My hand brushes against the doorknob, then drops back to my side. Why the hell am I hesitating? It’s just a conversation—acknowledge she’s fine, exchange a few words, and leave. That’s it.Finally, I knock, the sound sharper than I intended, and push the door open.The stares hit me first. Mrs. Montgomery’s, cool and guarded, and Claire’s, fleeting yet piercing in its own way. The air shifts, weighted by their gazes. I push it down—the unease, the way my chest tightens. I’m here for a reason. Say what needs to be said and leave.“Mrs. Montgomery,” I greet, giving her a polite nod.Her lips press together in a faint line before she speaks. “Thank you for bringing Claire to the hospital.” Her words are m
Alexander’s POVI step into the house, the heavy silence greeting me like an unwelcome guest. The hallway stretches before me, dimly lit, shadows clinging to the edges of the walls. My steps slow as I steady myself, bracing for what comes next. I know she’s here. I can feel her presence, like static in the air before a storm.And then I see her—Cynthia. Pacing the living room like a restless predator, her heels clicking against the floor in a rhythm that grates on my nerves. Her movements are sharp, deliberate, and when she spots me standing in the doorway, she freezes, her gaze locking onto mine.I sigh, the weight of her impending tirade already pressing down on me. I don’t have the energy for this. Not tonight. Not ever. Without a word, I start moving, intent on passing her without acknowledging her presence.But her voice stops me.“Alexander.”It’s sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. I halt, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. Of course, she wouldn’t let me go that easi
Isabel’s POVThe warmth of my morning coffee seeps through the ceramic mug, comforting my hands as I wander through the house in my flip-flops. The faint echo of my steps against the polished marble floors is my only companion until I catch sight of my mother in the living room, her posture straight, her lips pressed tight, phone in hand.“Claire,” she calls out, her tone clipped yet soft, the way she always does when she’s unsure how I’ll react. “It’s your dad. He wants to speak with you.”My heart skips, the mug trembling slightly in my grip. I force myself to swallow, but the unease creeps in. I glance at her, searching her face for an explanation, but she offers none, her shoulders lifting in a quick shrug as if to say, Don’t look at me. I don’t know.The last thing I remember is her promising not to tell him. And now this? My pulse quickens, but I manage a shaky breath, hurrying toward her. “Here,” she says, holding out the phone with a look that’s half-apology, half-encouragemen
Isabel’s POVThe room is calm, draped in warm lighting that bathes the sleek, modern studio in soft gold. A camera blinks its red recording light as I sit poised, hands resting lightly on my lap. Across from me, the announcer smiles, her polished tone directed toward the camera.“Welcome, viewers. Today, we have an extraordinary guest—Claire Montgomery, the CEO of LM Group.”Her voice carries admiration, and the words echo in the stillness of the studio. “Claire is known not only for her groundbreaking leadership but for her remarkable journey. Thank you for joining us today, Claire.”I return her smile, tilting my head gracefully. “Thank you for having me. It’s a pleasure to be here and share this time with you.”The announcer’s gaze softens as she leans forward slightly, speaking with sincerity. “Your story is nothing short of incredible. To reconnect with your family after so many years, knowing they searched tirelessly for you… How does that feel?”I take a steadying breath, my fi
Alexander’s POVI glare at Susan, waiting for her to explain herself. Her shoulders stiffen as she begins, “Sir…” She pauses, takes a deep sigh, and continues cautiously, “We received a message that you had requested the cancellation of the order and to stop the shipment.”Her voice wavers slightly, but the words hit me like a blow.“What?” I voice out, the single word carrying enough weight to silence the thoughts swirling in my head. I feel an ache of distress tightening in my chest. What the fuck are they playing at? I was expecting delays at worst—not a cancellation.I scoff, frustration and anger simmering. “What the hell do you mean by that, Susan?” My voice is sharp, slicing through the tense air.Susan places a tablet forward with trembling hands. “It’s the message, sir,” she says, her words faltering as I snatch the device.The screen shows the message. It’s from me—or at least, it looks like it’s from me. My grip tightens around the edges of the tablet as the realization sin
Isabel’s POVI take a deep breath, my shoulders rising high as I glance at Aurora. It’s a subtle signal—I had no idea this was coming. She reads the unspoken message in my eyes, but her face stays unreadable.Turning to face Richard, I manage to say, “Wow, I didn’t know you model.”His face softens, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He glances at Aurora, but she doesn’t flinch, her expression neutral.“Oh, it’s just a side gig. Something to mix things up now and then.” he says, his voice casual yet confident, as if he’s used to keeping things light.I feel my shoulders drop, my arms folding instinctively across my chest. “Right. I see.” My voice is even, but inside, the awkwardness churns. How do I navigate through this?The silence stretches, thick with unspoken tension. Richard clears his throat, breaking the stillness. “So, can we begin?” His gaze darts around until it locks briefly with Roy’s. Richard chuckles softly, a smile playing on his lips, before looking away
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