Bernice Christian stood there, an imposing figure that commanded the room. His height, the sharp cut of his suit that hugged his toned frame, and his piercing steel-gray eyes scanned every inch of the space with a calculated intensity. "I apologize for the interruption, but it seems necessary at this point." Christian's voice was deep and resonant, slicing through the tension like a hot knife. Rachel, visibly flustered, started to speak with a placating yet condescending tone. "Mr. Miller, our interview with this woman has been concluded. She has absolutely no qualifications to be your assistant. She is just a housewife with no real work experience!" She gestured dismissively in my direction. A heavy silence hung in the air as Christian didn't respond immediately. His gaze lingered on me for a lingering moment, a spark of something flickering in those molten depths, before he turned to address the other interviewers. "Susan, George, let's hear your thoughts. What's your take
Melissa I stormed into Rachel's office, slamming the door behind me with a resounding bang. "You better have a damn good explanation for this, Rachel," I seethed, my eyes narrowing into slits. Rachel looked up from her computer, her eyes wide with surprise. "Melissa? What's going on?" "Bernice," I spat, my voice dripping with venom. "I heard she passed the interview. How could you let this happen?" Rachel swallowed nervously, her gaze darting away from mine. "I tried to stop it, Mel. But it's out of my hands. The interviewers were impressed with her qualifications and experience." A harsh laugh escaped my lips. "Impressed? That useless trophy wife couldn't impress a goldfish." I leaned in closer, my eyes narrowing. "I thought I made myself clear, Rachel. I want her gone. Out of this company and out of my way." Rachel fidgeted in her seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Melissa, I understand, but it's not that simple. Fed... he recommended her for the position." My
Bernice In the Park Slope neighborhood stepped from lush Prospect Park. A vintage style villa with classic brownstone design was located here. Dad bought it with the first pot of money he made, and then he and mom married here, started a family, and had me. I have memories of hide-and-seek in every corner of the villa, and have enjoyed the four seasons of New Yorkpanoramic views of its skyline from the terrace.It has felt more like a haven to me than any other place on the planet. Here, it seems, I've been playing the role of the willful, right-or-wrong child, and they've always been the best parents in the world. When I got home, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Stephen enjoying their afternoon tea. Mom and Dad had endless things to say. They were the sweetest couple I had ever seen. I can't help but imagine what Mom would have been like in the world of my last life, after Dad's heart attack and my death by Melissa. She had a soft heart and that must have turned her into a broken one. It n
Bernice It turns out our new neighbor is not only courteous but also skilled in the culinary arts. Our dinner expanded to include Christian's version of stew, steak, and onion soup. Mom wanted to not keep our guests too busy, so I was forced to be Christian's helper while he cooked. As soon as she left, I whirled around to face Christian, my eyes narrowing. "Alright, Christian, spill. What's your game here? Why would a hotshot CEO like you be living in this quaint little neighborhood?" Christian chuckled, leaning against the counter with an infuriatingly casual grace. "Bernice, you wound me. Do you really think so little of me?" I crossed my arms, my stance defiant. "Can you blame me? You show up out of nowhere, charming your way into my family's life. It's a bit convenient, don't you think?" He pushed off the counter, taking a step closer. His piercing gray eyes bore into mine, as if trying to read my very thoughts. "Sometimes, things aren't as complicated as they seem, Bern
BerniceI slipped my work laptop into my Birkin bag, followed by my notebook. I've kept the habit of using paper and pen. During my first week of job training, they proved useful.Fed entered without knocking. I reminded myself to lock the door next time."Bernie, why aren't you eating breakfast?" He was dressed in a silver-gray suit today. Classic Fed. Fed liked attire that made him stand out. Fairly, Fed managed his physique well. he was fit, muscular. But behind that was his disrespectful, hypocritical nature, just as he barged into my room."Morning, Fed." I closed my bag, "I'm not hungry.""You need to eat," he raised an eyebrow, gesturing towards my chest, "I like you fuller."Fed was pleased with his flirtation. But all I felt was disgust. There had been no sex between us since my rebirth. I couldn't bear any possibility of having to lie beneath Fed again. I needed to divorce him faster. I responded coldly, "I like my body. Don't worry. There are plenty of voluptuous women out
BerniceJust then, the elevator opened.I quickly pushed Christian out of the way and walked out of the elevator first, but my face was still hot. We made it back to the office, and Christian was back to his usual professional, calm demeanor, as if what had just happened was an illusion on my part.I breathed a sigh of relief, sat back at my desk, and started today's work as well.But as I scrolled through my emails, one in particular caught my eye - an invitation to a business cocktail party addressed to ChristianI leaned forward, scanning the details. This event would be attended by top executives and key partners of the Miller Corporation, the very people who might hold the answers I so desperately needed. Ever since joining the company, I'd been discreetly digging into Fed's work and financials, but every department I queried came back clean. Too clean. It was becoming increasingly clear that someone high up the ladder was helping him cover his tracks.This party could be my chan
Bernice I struggled to open my eyes, my head pounding and my vision blurred. As I slowly regained consciousness, I found myself in an unfamiliar room, the air heavy with a musty scent that made my stomach churn. My body felt weak and powerless, as if every ounce of strength had been drained from me. The "waiter" who had abducted me stood with his back turned, engaged in a hushed phone conversation. "Yes, Sir... I have her... Don't worry, I'll take care of it," he murmured, his voice low and menacing. "She won't be a problem anymore." I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to quell the panic rising in my chest. My eyes darted around the room, searching for any clues that might help me understand why I was here. That's when I noticed a video camera positioned directly in front of me, its unblinking eye focused on my every move. A chill ran down my spine as I realized that this was no ordinary kidnapping. The "waiter" ended his call and turned to face me, a cruel smile
ChristianI gently shook the glass in my hand. It reflect the soft glow of the chandelier. My mind is elsewhere. After Bernice left, my head was all about her.She barely touched her food before she left. I thought maybe I could coax her to go out and get something to eat. There's a cozy Greek-inspired restaurant about a half hour's drive from here. Nothing fancy, and it might ease her exhaustion."Christian, you've been quiet tonight," Martin Eckhart says, a sharp-eyed financier who specializes in reading people and market trends, "Is something wrong?"I flashed a smile, "Just a long day, Martin. Moving on to our Asian business, there have been a lot of regulatory changes this year.""Leverage is the name of the game," Martin said, "but if we're not careful, these new policies could pull the rug out from under us.""Leverage," I said back, my thoughts wandering. Bernice didn't look like her usual self tonight, almost...... vulnerable.Julia, another colleague in our London office, in
BerniceThe gentle sea breeze ruffled my hair as I stood on the balcony of our Hamptons beach house, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Ten years had passed since that first charity gala, a decade filled with more love, laughter, and fulfillment than I could have ever imagined."Penny for your thoughts?" Christian's voice came from behind me, as familiar and comforting as ever.I turned, smiling as he handed me a glass of wine. "Just reflecting. It's hard to believe it's been ten years."Christian nodded, leaning against the railing beside me. "Ten amazing years. And you know what? I have a feeling the best is still to come."As if on cue, the sound of children's laughter floated up from the beach below. I looked down to see Hope, now fourteen, chasing her younger siblings, seven-year-old Ethan and five-year-old Olivia, through the surf. Melissa and Alex's twins, eight-year-old Sophie and Lucas, were building an elaborate sandcastle nearby."Should we call them in for dinner?" I
BerniceThe grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel buzzed with excitement as New York's elite mingled, their designer gowns and tuxedos glittering under the chandeliers. I smoothed down the front of my own gown - a midnight blue creation that Cathy had insisted I wear - and scanned the room, making sure everything was in place for our charity gala."Relax, Bernie," Christian murmured in my ear, his hand warm on the small of my back. "Everything looks perfect."I turned to him, drinking in the sight of him in his tuxedo. Even after all these years, he still took my breath away. "I know, I know. I just want tonight to be perfect. We've worked so hard on this."Christian smiled, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. "It will be perfect. The Edward Hamilton Foundation's first major fundraiser - how could it be anything but?"I nodded, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. We had spent months planning this gala, bringing together all our friends and family to support the foundation's mission of
BerniceThe soft spring breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers through Central Park as I watched Melissa and Alex stroll hand in hand ahead of me. Christian walked beside me, pushing Hope's stroller as our daughter babbled happily, pointing at the colorful tulips lining the path."They look happy," I murmured to Christian, nodding towards Melissa and Alex.Christian smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "They do. It's nice to see Melissa like this, isn't it? So carefree and content."I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. After everything Melissa had been through, seeing her find happiness with Alex felt like a small miracle.As we approached the Bethesda Fountain, I noticed Alex becoming increasingly fidgety. He kept reaching into his pocket, his face a mix of nervousness and excitement. I nudged Christian, raising an eyebrow in silent question. He nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips."You knew, didn't you?" I whispered accusingly.Christian shrugged,
BerniceThe shrill ring of my phone pierced through the peaceful silence of our bedroom at an ungodly hour. I fumbled for it, nearly knocking over the lamp in my sleep-addled state."Hello?" I mumbled, squinting at the too-bright screen."BERNICE!" Cathy's voice exploded through the speaker, causing me to jerk the phone away from my ear. "I need you! It's an emergency! "I sat up, instantly alert. "Cathy? What's wrong? Is Lily okay?""Lily? Oh, she's fine. Sleeping like an angel, the little traitor," Cathy huffed. "No, it's much worse. I'm filing for divorce!"I blinked, trying to process this information. "Divorce?! Cathy, what are you talking about?""I'm leaving Taylor!" she wailed dramatically. "I can't take it anymore, Bernie. He's driving me insane! Do you know what he did?""What did he do?" I asked cautiously, already suspecting this was going to be something ridiculous."He left his socks on the floor. AGAIN!" Cathy's voice rose to a pitch that I'm sure only dogs could hear.
BerniceThe familiar New York skyline greeted us as our car wound its way through the city streets. After the rugged beauty of Scotland, the urban landscape felt both jarring and comforting. Hope was fast asleep in her car seat, her new stuffed highland cow clutched tightly to her chest."Home sweet home," Christian murmured, his hand finding mine in the space between us.As we pulled up to our building, I saw the doorman, George, step forward to help with our luggage. His familiar face broke into a warm smile as he saw us."Welcome back, Mr. and Mrs. Miller," he said, opening the car door. "How was your trip?""Wonderful, George, thank you," Christian replied, carefully lifting the still-sleeping Hope from her car seat. "But it's good to be home."I followed them into the building, my mind already racing with all the things we needed to do. Unpack, sort through mail, check in with work... The list seemed endless.As we entered our apartment, the silence enveloped us. After the bustle
BerniceThe early morning sun streamed through the windows of our Paris apartment, casting a golden glow over the scattered suitcases and travel documents strewn across the bed. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my blouse and taking a deep breath. Today was the day we'd been planning for weeks - our family trip to Scotland, to Christian's ancestral home."Mama! Mama!" Hope's excited voice preceded her as she toddled into the room, her little arms outstretched. I scooped her up, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek."Are you ready for our big adventure, sweetheart?" I asked, smoothing down her unruly curls.Hope nodded enthusiastically. "See sheep!" she declared, her face lighting up with joy.I laughed, remembering the picture books of Scotland we'd been reading to her. "That's right, we're going to see lots of sheep. And castles, and lochs, and maybe even a highland cow or two."Christian appeared in the doorway, looking handsome in a casual sweater and jeans. The pendant I'd
BerniceThe soft glow of my desk lamp cast shadows across the scattered sketches and gemstones before me. It was well past midnight, but sleep eluded me. I was searching for a way to help Christian through his mourning.I picked up a rough sapphire, turning it over in my palm. Its deep blue reminded me of Edward's eyes, always twinkling with mischief and kindness. An idea began to form in my mind, a way to capture a piece of Edward's spirit in something tangible that Christian could carry with him.With renewed energy, I began to sketch. The design took shape under my pencil - a simple yet elegant pendant. A teardrop-shaped sapphire, surrounded by a delicate filigree of white gold, designed to look like the intertwining branches of a family tree. At the base of the pendant, almost hidden within the metalwork, I planned to engrave Edward's initials and the coordinates of his favorite spot in Paris - a bench in the Jardin des Tuileries where he used to take Christian as a boy.As the fi
BerniceIt was a moment of pure magic, tinged with the bittersweet knowledge that it might be one of Edward's last.The night stretched on, marked by Edward's labored breathing and occasional coughs. His skin had taken on a grayish pallor, and his cheeks seemed more sunken than ever. Every so often, his eyes would flutter open, unfocused and glassy, before closing again.Dr. Fournier entered the room for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He checked Edward's vitals with practiced efficiency, his brow furrowing as he noted the dropping blood pressure and weakening pulse. "We've increased his morphine dosage," he murmured to Christian. "He shouldn't be in any pain now."Edward's fingers twitched sporadically against the bedsheet, and his breathing became more irregular - sometimes rapid and shallow, then pausing for long, terrifying moments before resuming. The oxygen mask fogged rhythmically with each exhale, a visual reminder of his continuing fight.As dawn approached, Edw
BerniceChristian rushed in, followed closely by Dr. Fournier. For the next few minutes, the room was a flurry of activity as the doctor checked Edward's vitals and responses.Slowly, miraculously, Edward's eyes fluttered open. They were unfocused at first, but then they found Christian's face."Chris... Christian," he rasped, his voice barely audible around the breathing tube.Christian's face broke into a smile, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'm here, Grandfather. I'm right here."Dr. Fournier quickly removed the breathing tube, replacing it with an oxygen mask. "Mr. Hamilton," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Try not to speak too much. You've been through quite an ordeal."Edward nodded weakly, his eyes never leaving Christian's face. He lifted a shaky hand, which Christian immediately grasped."I'm sorry," Edward whispered. "I'm so sorry."Christian frowned, confused. "Sorry? Grandfather, you have nothing to be sorry for. You're going to be okay. You're going to get better