Rosa’s POVThere are things no parent is ready for — nothing anyone could ever tell you will dull the stab of watching your child completely shattered, terrified and questioning her every understanding of life as to how reality works. When we had gotten Emma home, I told myself for weeks that she would be fine —that she was tough like her father and smart like me.Yet there I was outside her bedroom with her wails cleaving up the night and suddenly I arrived at the cold, hard realization that she really wasn’t okay.“Mommy!” Desperation laced Emma's voice, hoarse and afraid—an octave that snapped me up on my feet like a hot iron.I very cautiously opened the door not wanting to scare her. She was propped up with her covers bundled around her, shaking like a mini jackhammer. Like James, her blue eyes were wide, searching the room for whatever they saw lurking in the shadows.I replied softly, sitting on the edge of her bed: I'm here sweetheart.She threw herself into my arms so that he
Rosa’s POVSecrets have a way of finding the spotlight, but they do tend to stay in the shadows until perhaps the best—or worst—time for them to shine. For all those years, I had been two people—the face of Rosa's Boutique and the invisible puppeteer of one of the planet's top fashion houses. I enjoyed the work and creative aspects, the power of manifesting my vision into reality.However, this power also came at a cost.James texted me one word, urgent — I knew something was up, this was during a design meeting we were having. I made an excuse and immediately called him.“James, what’s going on?”His voice was tense, his words carefully articulated. “Rosa, you need to come home. Now.”He was already pacing the living room when I got there, his laptop on the coffee table. He had his tie hanging loose, sleeves rolled up, and when he turned around to talk to me the furrow in his brow deepened.“What happened?” I asked, my heart pounding.He gestured to a screen where an email thread was
Rosa’s POV The worst I thought was over. Vivian was incarcerated, and Dera could no longer be implicated. The ghosts of the past had finally disappeared—or so I thought. It came in the mail one Tuesday, wedged between Emma’s school newsletter and a magazine. At first, it was benign: a little bracelet, exquisite and simple; one charm only—tiny rosebud, fragile little thing really—and made without the telltale stain of industry. It was not the bracelet itself that upset me but rather the accompanying note. “to the woman who flourishes in the chaos.” There was no signature. No return address. Nothing but those words, written on a blank card. Sunlight glinted on the charm as I turned the bracelet in my hands. It was pretty, for sure, but it felt... wrong. I later showed it to James coming home that evening. “Did you buy this for me?” So I asked, sounding far more casual than I felt. After frowning a moment, he took the bracelet from my hand. “No. Why?” So I said, “It came in the
James’s POVI was asleep after a bad night when the call came; Rosa squirmed next to me, indistinct mumblings in her sleep as I searched for my phone on the nightstand.“Bethel?” When I woke up and saw her name pop up on the screen, I said.I felt toneless with my ears. The line crackled and I heard her voice — tiny, shaky — not at all like my whole life, little sister. “James… Can I come over?”Basic words but her voice was shaking and adrenaline flooded my veins.Yes, of course I replied immediately and straightened up. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”I just—I just need to see you, she managed, her voice breaking. “Please.”Get me,' I said, already tossing off the blankets to get out of bed.Overload, she panicked, but wasn't The Girl at all. "No!" “I’m already outside.”I felt like I froze, stuck on the weight of her words—no “inside” but rather an “outside?”“Yes. I— I had nowhere else to go.Rosa flopped down next to me, her expression going from confusion to worry as I told her
Rosa’s POVI was closing my laptop for the night when the email came through. The subject line was unambiguous: “Worldwide Opportunity; Lets Partner Up.”I skimmed the message, and my heart raced. It was for a large European distributor with connections to Milan, Paris and London. To welcome Rosa's Boutique into one of the most sought-after markets in fashion — to partner with me.This was the dream—the same one I had been cultivating since my childhood bedroom sketches. And that was international, which means prestige and influence—and a chance to show the world my work could stand alongside the greats.But as I was feeling the thrill, another thought intruded — James.We had worked so hard to put back together what we lost, to have a life where we could flourish together. But would this decision shatter the delicate status quo we had established?On the drive home that night, I was tempted to bring it up, but even as I crawled into bed next to him later that evening, I mulled over t
Rosa’s POVIt was the middle of a staff meeting at the boutique that day when the call came. My assistant stepped up to me, and whispered that my mother was calling. A phone call from her was not so strange; the timing, however, was odd. My stomach twisted when I heard her voice on the other end of the line.She said, more clipped and tense than during anything else she'd thrown Rosa's way. “We have a problem.”An hour later, I was in the study of the Andrew family estate, staring across the desk at my father. My mom paced the room, her hands clasped in front of her.“What’s going on?” I'm thinking, my stomach swirling at the thought.My dad sighed, rubbing his face with a hand. There has been an allegation, he said. A person associated with the company says that I may have committed embezzlement.The words knocked the breath out of me. “What?”My mom shook her head so quickly I could almost hear the snap of it. “You know your father, Rosa. He would never do something like that.'Well
Rosa’s POV“James, have you heard of this dude before? Come on, I suggested, sliding my phone across the dining table. This was just a quick blurb from a business article, but it twisted my stomach.James looked at the screen, brows tight. “Nathan Caldwell? He's a new investor in my tech venture. Why?”Now, I paused because I wasn't sure how to then address this. “Belmont Holdings, he is also named as a major shareholder in the company,” I said cautiously.James sat back in his chair, perplexed. “Bellmont? Isn't that one of The Patron's competitions?“Not just a rival,” I said; my tone was pointed. They have been trying to take down The Patron for years! Whenever we start something new, they are the first to gossip and do underhanded deals."James just looked at me and my honesty hung in the air between us. You think this is about you?“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But it feels… off. Out of the blue, a guy like Caldwell is interested in your company — why?When I first met Nathan Caldw
Rosa’s POVIt had been a date circled on the calendar for months. Our Anniversary—November 14th And it wasn't just any anniversary, either. This one felt huge, a celebration of everything that brought James and me to the moment.We had changed from when we got married — about 4 years previously. That union had been arranged out of a sense of duty, not love. But now? We were now at that stage of fighting for each other, building something real.This anniversary was supposed to be special, one reflecting on how far we had come. I spent weeks organizing a surprise for us: booking a private dinner on the same lake where we were slowly starting to put the pieces back together. I had booked the exact same boat, engaged a string quartet to perform James's favorite classical music, and even created a bespoke gown.Well, naturally as the day drew closer, I became even more excited. So when James still hadn't brought up the date by the morning of, a tiny ball of anxiety started growing in my ch
James’s PovThere was a charged air, electricity hanging in the atmosphere — waiting for a spark. The energy in the room was palpable—anticipation, excitement, and disbelief. Rosa was pregnant with twins. Our twins. Years of love, toil and growth had built up to this moment, it was almost surreal in its enormity.I scanned the room to find our friends, family and colleagues filling up the venue for the grand opening of The Harden Family Foundation —the foundation we had worked so hard to build. This initiative was something we had both cooked up, helping young entrepreneurs and artists with the tools needed to build their dreams. This was the beginning of our next chapter, a one that would create an impact much larger than we ever could alone.Still, all of that felt secondary now to the fact that Rosa was mere hours away from delivering. Her body had been through so much already, the ability to carry this pregnancy now along with everything else—it was nothing short of a miracle. Yes
James’s PovWatching all those little kids in their funny caps and gowns from the back of the auditorium felt strange. It filled me with a combination of pride, nostalgia and disbelief. Emma, our daughter with the wobbly knees walking into her first day at school was long gone. She was at the threshold of something more—her life. And it was happening literally in front of me.Rosa was next to me with her hand resting lightly on my arm, staring at Emma as she stood in front of the podium. I could almost taste her tension, the pride and love she'd been brewing there for more years than I could count. The moment was not only for Emma. It was ours. We had forged this, together, following our lead, with us being there to support and love her through her trials, and victories. And here she was now, standing ready to address an auditorium full of people, preparing to tell the world what she needed them to hear.My heart raced with anxiety as Emma walked to the mic. She was steady, composed b
James’s PovThe day had been a long one. Too long, in fact. With the business problems, Bethel came back, and was still looking for whoever had started messing with Rosa's designs—my brain was like a one-person track team going around in circles. Through all those storms there had been one constant—Rosa. She was the peacekeeper, the nucleus of everything that revolved around it.That evening when she entered with a pale face, an absent look in her eyes, I knew something was wrong. I recognized the expression, my mind saying to keep it together baby girl as though something heavy was on her. Not that she needed to say anything. Not even for a moment did I doubt that always in the air, there was tension.“Hey, what’s wrong?” I said, putting down the coffee cup. Not waiting for an answer, I knew that she needed to talk and I was all ears.But what she would open her mouth and say next would leave me breathless.“I’m pregnant.”My initial reaction was disbelief. I found it hard to take in
Rosa’s PovThose next few weeks were a series of meetings, lack of sleep, and questioning. Bethel had returned to the family home for some time, looking for a sense of stability. Yet, she was merely rebuilding things in her life — There lay an ambiguous journey the next. The search didn't let up for whoever was leaking our designs and the business was feeling that heat. Yet all that remained unchanged, despite the ruckus swirling around us, was James and I locked in as teammates who would bounce forth whatever lurked next.But while the storm raged on we did something weird — something that felt like a cosmic nudge in my direction to say life was still happening literally throughout all this.I had missed a few periods. I initially presumed it was stress. I had hectic days behind me and felt a whole range of emotions. But as days passed, a subtle dread grew in the belly of my stomach.So I grabbed the phone, called my doctor's office. They were able to squeeze me in the next morning f
Rosa’s PovThe first days in the world after moving out of my family home, was like a strange kind of birth. I had reconciled my past and was okay with it, now I would get on with my life. The burden that held me down was finally removed. But as life likes to teach us, we donÕt get change without a fight.The first of many challenges hit James and me while we were sitting at our favorite restaurant, enjoying dinner together. Suddenly, there was a little buzz on the table where his phone was resting. His eyes scanned the words on it, narrowing as he read a message.“What’s wrong?” I half asked, my fork freezing in the air, the pleasant buzz of the restaurant dulled.James, with clipped vocals, replied: "It's about Bethel."I had put my fork down; I could hear the tension behind his voice. And his sister, Bethel, had always been the wild card of the Harden bunch—free-spirited, reckless and bold. Yet lately, she had been making more than a couple of bad choices.“What happened now?”"Of
Rosa’s PovAs we neared the house, which had once been my world, now a rundown old heap. The car came to a slow crawl. I had completely forgotten how much I missed that creak of the tires rolling on the gravel driveway. When I stepped out of the car, a surreal sense of nostalgia and unease washed over me. It was the first time for me back here in years, not since everything had changed. Not since the day I left in search of making a life for myself: so far away from here and all this history that hung around like an echo.“Are you sure about this?” Uh oh what happened James asked down beside me with concern in his voice.I shook my head, probably too fast and grinned at him with a tight smile that was only half reassuring. “Yeah. I think it’s time.”He gazed at me for a second, dark eyes roving over my face, the furrow between his brows growing deeper. He didn't follow up, but I could feel the question line hanging in the air. James had watched me go through hard times over and over,
James’s PovThe morning light was spilling through the blinds of my office, casting long shadows on the floor. While outside, the city hummed quietly in comparison to the storm in my brain. I had been expecting this. And I knew that after all we had done together Reginald would never let things like this slide. Defeat was not one of his words–not easily, anyway. So when I saw his name flash on my phone screen bright and early that morning, I knew it meant something.The door opened and Rosa, a placid but attractive figure of a woman always ready to chat broke into my thoughts. The question if she too had seen the message didn’t even need asking. There was already a heaviness between us.I said, and the words came out like an accusation — though I hadn't even finished speaking.Rosa’s gaze hardened. We knew that walking away quietly was not going to be an option for him. What does he want this time?”I sat back in my chair, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I pondered our choices. Such
Rosa’s POVOn a lazy Sunday afternoon, Emma surprised me with a question that caught me short. She had just finished her homework and was on the couch with her legs tucked under her, watching TV without really paying attention. Her innocent voice interrupted the soft hum of the house.Someday, at some point in our lives, one of us will ask the question — “Mom, why do you and Dad get married?”I paused, as the shock of words were more impactful than I had anticipated. Emma had never been dull — she always asked the kinds of questions that forced you to consider things in a way you never had before. I knew this day would come, but so early I didn't expect My thoughts were tumbling a bit as I tried to find the most appropriate words; how do you explain the mixed feelings behind our choice, or rather why the decision was not so simple for me or us?I looked at James, who was sitting at the kitchen table reading a newspaper, with his back toward us. His eyes glanced at mine for a split sec
James’s POVIt was something I had always prided myself on: knowing where I came from; understanding the legacy of my family. I thought I knew everything about our wealth, our power, the empire we had created; that little part of my life which I imagined was mine. But when I sat across the table from my mom, her hands shaking a little as she passed me an envelope with a strange, faded insignia ironed on it, I knew just how little knowledge I had.“James,” her voice wavering, she continued “I have to tell you something. The family history around how we came by our money, I guess.I frowned and focused on my breathing. “What do you mean, Mom?”After some delay, she opened the envelope and took out a few creased yellowing sheets of paper. “Of course, I never wanted you to know this but today feels like it could be time. You have to know the real story about your father, about what it took to build the Harden dynasty.I leaned in, heart racing. Decades of effort, well-placed investments,