NORA'S POV The sound of Sam’s phone ringing pierced the stillness of the morning. It had been going off non-stop since the news of Jonathan’s defection broke. Investors were panicking, employees were calling in fear of layoffs, and partners were threatening to terminate contracts.I watched as Sam stormed into the study, his face twisted in frustration. His father’s once-pristine sanctuary became a chaotic battlefield of papers, overturned furniture, and broken glass as he moved around the room, frustrated and angry.“Damn him!” Sam roared, sweeping a stack of documents off the desk. They scattered like fallen leaves, a physical manifestation of his unraveling composure.I followed him, stepping into the room cautiously, my heart aching at the sight of him like this. “Sam,” I said gently, moving closer. “Please, let’s talk…”He spun around, his eyes wild. “This is your fault!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “If you hadn’t gone to Milo Romano, if you hadn’t fallen for that stupid More
SAM'S POV The street was eerily quiet as I stepped out of my car and walked towards Jonathan’s bungalow.He didn't seem surprised to see me but sat casually, leaning back in a chair, as though he hadn’t just torn the fabric of our family apart.“Oddly, I was expecting you, Samuel,” Jonathan said, his tone mocking.I clenched my fists at my sides. “You embezzled funds, Jonathan. You betrayed your family.”
SAM'S POV The sunlight filtering through the windows of the Bennett mansion felt intrusive, mocking the growing darkness inside me. Every step toward Uncle Thomas’s study felt heavier, each breath more labored. His betrayal had been a knife in my side, and I was about to twist it.Uncle Thomas had lived in the mansion since my father’s passing. His home on the estate was quieter, smaller, and he spent most of his time here in the main house. My mother often said it was his way of staying connected to family, but now I wondered if it had been something else—a way to remain close enough to strike.I didn’t both
NORA'S POV The morning sunlight filtered through the grand windows of the Bennett library, illuminating the tension etched into every face around the table. I sat beside Sam, our shoulders barely touching, but the tension between us palpable. Genevieve leaned forward, elbows on the table, her fiery red hair contrasting with the dark wood of the desk. Alaric Laurent, effortlessly poised and self-assured, tapped his pen rhythmically against the table.“Elias Roosevelt is playing a dangerous game,”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-EIGHTSAM'S POVThe morning headlines were a whirlwind of chaos. Elias Roosevelt’s video, aimed at dismantling the Bennett name, had done the opposite. Social media was ablaze with mixed reactions, each comment a testament to how deeply the video had resonated—or backfired.In the footage, Elias stood in what appeared to be an old office filled with weathered books and dim lighting, holding a sealed envelope marked with the Bennett crest. He claimed it contained irrefutable evidence of the Bennett family’s corruption, betrayal, and self-destruction.Elias then detailed the Moretti scandal, the Angola oil deal, and the infighting that had rocked the family. He painted a picture of a dynasty in ruins, one that couldn’t even trust its own blood.The video had been shared millions of times across platforms, with hashtags like #BennettDownfall and #FamilyFeud trending worldwide. Commenters dissected every frame, speculating about the contents of the envelope
NORA'S POVThe mansion felt unusually cold, even though it had stopped raining a while ago. As I stepped into the sitting room with Sam, tension crackled in the air like static. The entire Bennett clan—or what was left of it—had been summoned. Sam had insisted on an emergency meeting, and judging by the faces around the room, everyone knew the stakes were high.Aunt Angelina, dignified as ever, sat at the head of the room. Her sharp eyes scanned the gathering, already assessing the chaos before a word was spoken. Her daughter, a quiet woman in her early thirties, sat beside her, fiddling nervously with the edge of her sleeve.Across the room, Aunt Marion perched on the armrest of a chair, Jonathan standing protectively behind her. His smug expression made my stomach churn. Uncle Thomas sat alone, his shoulders slumped but his eyes defiant. Richard was flanked by his parents, his mother looking visibly weary, while Michael’s father sat stiffly, flanked by his wife and two daughters, bo
SAM'S POVThe courtroom was a battleground, its sterile walls echoing with arguments that felt more personal than legal. This wasn’t just about shares or company policy. This was about betrayal.Linda, my lead attorney, sat beside me, her calm demeanor belying the storm about to unfold. Across the aisle, Jacob and Jonathan looked smug, their legal team whispering strategies. Jacob’s tailored suit and polished confidence screamed defiance, while Jonathan’s jittery demeanor betrayed the stakes for him. It was surreal, sitting across from family members who had once shared Sunday dinners and childhood holidays. Now they were trying to dismantle everything I’d spent my life protecting.“All rise,” the bailiff announced, and the courtroom fell silent as the judge entered.The trial began with opening statements, and Jacob’s attorney wasted no time setting the tone.“Your Honor,” the opposing attorney began, his voice steady and authoritative, “this case is about accountability—or rather, t
NORA'S POVZoe’s soft cries drifted from the nursery upstairs, and I kept glancing at the baby monitor on the table beside me. The nurse we’d hired was competent, but my nerves were frayed. Sam had left for court hours ago, and the house felt too quiet.I sat by the window, my gaze fixed on the garden. The roses were in full bloom, their bright petals a contrast to the turmoil swirling in my mind. I twirled my wedding ring absentmindedly, the smooth band a reminder of a love that had weathered more storms than I cared to count. I had never given it back but we were still divorced.My thoughts wandered, as they often did these days, to the chain of events that had brought us here. My abrupt flight to Paris, the days when I’d clung to my independence, and Sam’s relentless pursuit to win me back. For a moment, I smiled, remembering how stubborn he’d been, how determined.In Paris, I had started over, determined to leave the Bennetts and their tangled web of corporate politics behind. I w
NORA’S POVThe sun bathed the Bennett estate in a golden glow, filtering through the canopy of white roses and twinkling fairy lights. It was the perfect day, the kind of day that had once seemed impossible. But here we were. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the delicate lace sleeve of my gown. It was nothing like the dress I had once imagined wearing for my first wedding to Sam. No, this was something entirely different—something that felt more like me. The gown hugged my frame, elegant and timeless. Soft ivory fabric cascaded down in delicate layers, embroidered with tiny pearls that shimmered when I moved. My hair, styled in loose waves, was pinned back with a single white rose, and a sheer veil trailed behind me like something out of a dream. But it was Sam’s face I longed to see the most. "Are you ready?" Genevieve appeared in the doorway, looking radiant in a soft emerald gown. Her usual sharpness was softened by the emotion in her eyes. I turned, feeling my he
NORA’S POVThe moment the plane touched down in New York, a flood of emotions surged through me. Relief. Exhaustion. Gratitude. I was alive. I was going home. Sam held my hand the entire drive from the airport, his grip firm yet tender, like he was afraid that if he let go, I’d disappear. My heart ached with anticipation; my mind consumed by a single thought—Zoe. I had spent weeks away from my daughter, missing the warmth of her tiny body against mine, the sweet scent of her skin, the sound of her giggles. The separation had been unbearable, and now, every second that kept me from holding her felt like
SAM’S POVThe fluorescent hospital lights hummed softly above me as I lay in the hospital bed, the sharp scent of antiseptic lingering in the air. I had never been afraid of pain—I had endured beatings, betrayals, and the weight of an entire empire on my shoulders. But this? This was different. Because this time, it wasn’t about me. It was about her. Nora. She lay in the bed
NORA’S POVThe beeping of machines was a constant rhythm, a reminder of the fragile line I was walking. The Parisian hospital room was bathed in soft golden light from the setting sun, but I felt cold. Not the kind of cold that came from the air conditioning or the evening breeze slipping through the cracks in the window—this was deeper, bone-deep, a chilling awareness that my body was failing me. Every breath felt like a borrowed one, shallow and effortful. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on me, heavier than it had ever been. My fingers tingled, my limbs felt distant, like they didn’t belong to me anymore. A part of me wondered if this was it—if I was already standing on the precipice between life and d
SAM'S POV The jet sliced through the cloud cover with the precision of a predator on a hunt, its hum a constant in the background as my thoughts drifted. Paris was just hours away, but I was already a prisoner of the distance—caught between two worlds, neither of which felt truly mine anymore.I had fought wars before, faced battles in boardrooms and beneath the weight of expectations. But none of those had ever felt so personal, so destructive. This fight had torn apart the very fabric of my family, shattered everything I had worked for, and left scars on my soul that would never fully heal. And the worst part? It had nearly cost me Nora—the one person I couldn’t afford to lose.
JACOB'S POVThe courtroom had emptied, but I remained frozen in my seat. The sound of the gavel still echoed in my ears. Life in prison. Isabella was gone.I watched as the guards led her away. She didn’t cry. She didn’t beg. She didn’t even look at me.She only turned once, just before disappearing through the doors, and for a fleeting moment, I saw it—regret. But it wasn’t for what she had done. It was for losing.I exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over my face. Was this how it was all supposed to
SAM'S POV The boardroom was suffocating, thick with tension and the scent of expensive cologne and polished wood. New York’s most powerful investors sat around the long mahogany table, their sharp eyes locked on me. Margot Moretti sat at the far end, composed as ever, but I could see the cracks beginning to show.For the past two hours, I had been fighting for control of what was left of my father’s empire. The Morettis had leveraged Aunt Marion’s shares and were dangerously close to tipping th
NORA'S POVThe hospital room was eerily silent except for the rhythmic beeping of the monitors and the quiet hum of the machines keeping me tethered to this world. The walls were painted in soft, sterile white, and the air smelled faintly of antiseptic. I had spent countless hours in this bed, staring at the ceiling, counting the tiles, trying to ignore the way my body felt weaker with each passing day.But today was different. Today, the doctors would begin the experimental treatment—the last chance I had.Sam was pacing. He had been pacing for the last twenty minutes,
SAM'S POV The Paris clinic was quiet, almost unnervingly so. The soft hum of machines filled the room as Nora slept peacefully, her breathing steady but shallow. I sat in the corner of her room, the faint glow of my laptop illuminating the stack of documents Alaric had sent over that morning.Balancing the weight of the Bennett empire and being here for Nora felt impossible, but I had no choice.The reports from New York weren’t promising. Despite the rise in stock prices following Alaric’s press conference, the Morettis