Sandra’s POVEveryone was buzzing, hopeful, and excited. But under all that? I could feel it—pressure. Like the walls were whispering, “Don’t mess this up, Sandra.” Failure wasn’t just a possibility. It was a shadow lurking around every perfectly stitched hem and fabric roll. Claire was a godsend, moving like a machine—pinning, adjusting, checking everything twice. The others worked just as hard, matching my energy, maybe even feeding off it. I’d changed so much these past weeks. I wasn’t that girl who hid behind others anymore. I’d fought—hard—to stand here. It was my chance to show it. To show me. And then… of course, Eric. Claire walked in holding her phone, lips pressed into a line. “He’s trying again,” she said quietly. “Eric says he wants to help. One last time.” I felt the heat rise in my chest. I didn’t even need to ask who. “Tell him I’m busy.” “Are you sure?” Claire asked gently. “Yes, I am.” I replied.I turned back to the dress in my hands and ran my fingers over the
Sandra’s POVThe fashion gala was successful; everyone loved every piece of my collection. From the colorful pieces to the dark ones. I could still hear the cheering and noise of people in my ears, the camera flashing like fireworks.Everything was, in one word, perfect.My collections, my designs were the talk of the night; everyone loved them. People were everywhere talking, laughing, and enjoying the night.It almost didn’t feel real; I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming.This is a dream come true for me and my team.I saw Claire talking to a man in a black suit, a smile I waved, and she walked towards me.“We did it.” She squealed.“Yes, we did.” I hugged her tightly, tears of joy coming from my eyes.Claire gave me a handkerchief, which I collected, muttering thanks to her.“You don't have to cry, Sandra. At least everything worked out more than we thought.” She said.“I am just so thankful that I got carried away.” I replied.“It’s fine.” She hugged me once again.“
Sandra’s POVI woke the morning after the fashion gala feeling so exhausted; the stress had taken a toll on me.The sunlight shone through the light curtains, making the room so bright, as if the universe itself had decided to reward me for surviving everything life threw at me.I still felt so happy and contented that yesterday's fashion gala was a success. The cheers and laughter of the audience still rang in my ears.My phone had been buzzing nonstop with different messages, emails, and phone calls. Different people who wanted to buy designs, some who wanted to invest, and some who wanted to collaborate. The fashion world had woken, and it was calling my name nonstop.But even with the high of it all, there was a strange quiet inside me. Not sadness—more like reflection.I walked towards the windows and closed the curtains, then I made my way to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee that will wake me up. The twins were already up running around, the cartoon playing in the backgroun
Sandra’s POVThe next morning, I opened my eyes to see Eric sleeping peacefully beside me. He looked so handsome and dashing without even trying. His long lashes casting a shadow over his carefully sculpted face. My hands traced his jawline, tracing every curve; he stirred in his sleep, and I quickly stopped. I had slept off on the couch in the sitting room, and to my surprise, I woke up on my bed; Eric had carried my fat ass.I giggled at the thought.I was about to stand up when two strong hands wrapped around me, making me squeal. It was Eric.I melted in his arms, and for an instance, I sighed. I felt peace.He kissed my cheeks and whispered in my ear.“Morning, beautiful.” He murmured, his voice still groggy, laced with sleep.My face was as bright as a tomato; the butterflies in my tummy danced.I coughed and replied to him.“Uh... morning, Eric.” I replied, my voice quieter than I intended.He moved closer, brushing a strand of hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear.
There’s a kind of peace that doesn’t come loud or dramatic—it just settles. Like the way sunlight gently filters through the curtains on a lazy afternoon. No announcements. No fireworks. Just stillness. That’s how I felt this morning. Not overjoyed or overly anxious. Just calm. At ease. Like my heart had finally stopped running in circles and decided to rest.I walked to the mirror in the cafe restroom, adjusting my dress. It was a very comfortable green dress I had bought on one of my outings with Claire. It had short sleeves and an elegant neckline. The down part was free, and I wore a matching gold sandal with my bag. My hair was packed into a messy bun.I smoothed my palms down my sides, brushing out invisible creases, then leaned in closer to the mirror. My hair was doing that thing where one side behaved and the other rebelled, but I let it be. No time to fuss over strands when I was already running on limited patience and a busy mind.There was a time I would’ve second-guessed
Sandra’s POVThere was something strangely elegant about the envelope.It wasn’t loud or flashy, but it didn’t need to be. The texture alone was enough to make you pause. Thick, ivory paper with a faint sheen that caught the light in a quiet, confident way. The edges were crisply cut; not a single fray in sight. No excessive branding or screaming logos—just a small, embossed seal in gold foil. Understated. Sophisticated. Expensive.Not the kind of envelope you’d find mixed in with bills or birthday cards. And not the kind of thing that usually showed up on my kitchen counter, nestled between a juice-stained coloring book and a plastic toy truck with a missing wheel.For a moment, I just stood there, wiping my hands on a dish towel, blinking at it like it might disappear if I looked away. I reached for it slowly, half expecting it to vanish.My name was written in the center, in delicate, calligraphy-like script. Not printed—handwritten. The letters curved smoothly, effortlessly, like
Sandra’s POVThere’s a kind of silence that doesn’t ask for attention—but it fills the room anyway. The kind that drapes over your shoulders like an invisible shawl. Not loud, not eerie… just present. That was the quiet that wrapped around me the morning of the broadcast.I stood in front of my mirror, hands stilled mid-air over a little scatter of earrings. Gold hoops. Tiny pearls. A statement piece I wasn’t brave enough to wear. They looked like options, but really, they felt like little decisions about who I was going to be today.It had taken me too long to choose the dress.The neckline sat just high enough to keep things modest, but the cut made it clear I wasn’t here to blend in. It was the kind of dress you wear when you know you’re walking into a room that might try to shrink you.My hair was pinned in a loose twist at the back.I was smoothing my sleeve when I heard little footsteps thump down the hallway.“Mummy!”Haley’s voice rang out, and I turned just in time to see her
Sandra’s POVThere are moments that don’t feel real until the silence hits.That’s exactly how it felt when I closed the door behind me after the broadcast. The weight of the lights, the pointed smiles, Tiffany Cole’s smug gaze—all of it lingered like smoke in my lungs. But now, back in the car with the door sealed shut, it all started to dissolve. Eric had insisted on picking me up himself, and as I sank into the passenger seat."You, okay?" he asked, reaching over to squeeze my hand.I nodded, though it took me a moment to find my voice. “I think I held my own.”Eric chuckled, that warm, slow laugh that always made me feel safe. “You didn’t just hold your own, Sandra. You flipped the script.”He wasn’t exaggerating. I could feel it. The atmosphere inside the broadcast room had shifted the moment I stopped trying to sound like someone I wasn’t. I had spoken from my truth—about building my brand from scratch, about failing, learning, and still daring to dream. And surprisingly, peopl
Sandra’s POVThe weight of everything had been crushing me for weeks. I didn’t need to sit with it to feel it anymore; the pressure was always there, lurking behind every conversation, every glance. But there was something about the silence that had settled over me that day, a calm before a storm. I realized something in that silence: I was tired of feeling like a victim in my own life.I could have fallen deeper, letting Susan win. I could have let her bitterness, and her manipulations pull me into a world where I was constantly battling shadows. But I wasn’t that woman anymore. At least, I wasn’t going to be.I’d spent the last few days spiraling, questioning myself, wondering if maybe this was my fault. But something in me snapped back into focus. I wasn’t just a pawn in this twisted game. And I certainly wasn’t going to let Susan or anyone else turn me into one.It started with something small, almost unnoticeable at first. I stopped pretending. I stopped pretending to be okay
Sandra’s POVThe weight of everything had been crushing me for weeks. I didn’t need to sit with it to feel it anymore; the pressure was always there, lurking behind every conversation, every glance. But there was something about the silence that had settled over me that day, a calm before a storm. I realized something in that silence: I was tired of feeling like a victim in my own life.I could have fallen deeper, letting Susan win. I could have let her bitterness, and her manipulations pull me into a world where I was constantly battling shadows. But I wasn’t that woman anymore. At least, I wasn’t going to be.I’d spent the last few days spiraling, questioning myself, wondering if maybe this was my fault. But something in me snapped back into focus. I wasn’t just a pawn in this twisted game. And I certainly wasn’t going to let Susan or anyone else turn me into one.It started with something small, almost unnoticeable at first. I stopped pretending. I stopped pretending to be okay
Sandra’s POVI knew something was off the moment I woke up that morning.There wasn’t a sound. Not the usual distant hum of the city or even birds chirping like they usually did outside our window. Just stillness. Thick, almost eerie silence. I sat up slowly, scanning the room like something or someone was waiting to jump out at me.But it was just the quiet.I shook it off and padded into the kitchen, where Eric was already making coffee. He smiled when he saw me, and for a moment, things felt normal again. “Did you sleep okay?” he asked, sliding a mug toward me.I nodded, even though I hadn’t. My dreams had been cluttered again fragments of Susan’s face, distorted in anger, floating in and out of memory. Whispers I couldn’t place. Things I couldn’t unsee. And that strange feeling of being watched.“I’m fine,” I lied, taking a sip.The taste was familiar, warm, and comforting but it did nothing for the weight pressing on my chest.The day didn’t get any better.By noon, I got the fi
Susan’s POVThey said justice had spoken. That truth had won. That the monster had been unmasked.But I wasn’t dead.Not even close.A dirty secret. A mistake no one wanted to claim.And that was what hurt the most.Like I was nothing more than a shadow they accidentally stood next to once.I could still feel the sting in my chest, that slow burn of humiliation that refused to fade. It had settled deep, becoming a part of me. I remembered how they used to sit in my home, in the very living room I decorated with so much love, laughing at the stories I told. They made toasts. They danced. They claimed we were family. That we were connected by more than blood or history—we were connected by loyalty.But now?Now those same people could barely meet my eyes. Now, when I walked into a room, they shifted in their seats, cleared their throats awkwardly, avoided saying my name altogether. As if by not acknowledging me, they could pretend their hands were clean. That they hadn’t once benefit
Sandra’s POVAnother meeting.This wasn’t the first meeting, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, but it was the third since everything came to light. Since the lies unraveled. Since the truth had been dragged out into the open like an old, rotting corpse that had been hidden for far too long.And now, everyone wanted to act like they cared. Like they were shocked. Like they hadn’t known, or suspected, or played a part in letting it get this far. It was strange how quickly people could clean their hands and pretend they were never dirty.But me? I wasn’t pretending. I was just tired.Tired of being the girl who always had to be strong. Tired of being the one who people looked at with pity on their faces and questions in their eyes. Tired of fighting to be seen as more than just someone who survived.I wasn’t there to make anyone feel better. Not today.This meeting, just like the others, was meant to bring "closure." I stood by the door for a moment, just breathing. Taking it all in
Sandra’s POV The next day, there was another meeting. Another gathering of familiar faces that now felt foreign. Everyone was there because of the poisoning, the truth that had finally come to light. The elders spoke, one after the other, each with a different tone. Some spoke with regret, others with authority, and a few tried to find a middle ground, to balance what had happened with what was still left unsaid.But as they talked, I sat there, silent. Still.The words bounced off the walls, off their lips, and off me. I heard them, but I couldn’t feel them. Not the way they probably intended. They were trying to bring peace. Trying to restore order. Trying to act like what happened was something that could be wrapped up neatly and placed in the past. But I wasn’t there yet.Because peace wasn’t something you could summon with speeches.It wasn’t something that showed up just because the truth finally did.I looked around the room and saw faces I used to trust. Faces that had on
Sandra’s POV“Sandra?” His voice had broken the silence that had swallowed this room whole, the kind of silence that feels alive, like it’s watching you.My eyes locked onto his. First, confusion flashed across his face, but it didn’t last. The moment he saw what I was holding the folder pressed tight against my chest like a shield, his expression shifted.I couldn’t speak. My fingers were clenched around the file, and I hadn’t even realized how tightly I was holding it until the edge dug into my palm. I’d found it everything I wasn’t supposed to see. Everything she thought she’d buried.The proof.The documents, notes, photos... all carefully tucked away in the locked drawer of her desk, as if secrets couldn’t rot through wood. My whole body was trembling, but I didn’t let go. I couldn’t. Letting go would make it too real.Eric stepped into the room fully now, closing the door behind him with a soft click that still made me flinch. The room had felt too big just moments ago, like t
Sandra’s POVI started dressing for the day. I decided on my outfit choice from the long array of dresses on the hanger.I later settled for a light pink floral dress that had roses at the upper part.I matched it with a pink sandal Eric had bought for me on one of our shopping trips.I brushed my hair lightly and then braided it into a tight bun.I was ready, not only for the day but also for the judgmental stares of people in the castle. I was already used to it by now. And I mean no one would ever make me feel bad. I hadn't come this far to be trampled upon by anyone, not even Susan or Luke.I stepped out into the corridor holding my head up high. I could see from my vision the maids chattering.Their whispers didn’t stop; they’d been circling ever since the incident with the poisoned drinks. It wasn’t enough that Susan had been caught in the act. No, it wasn’t just the facts that mattered anymore. It was how easily they could twist the narrative to make me the villain.I wasn’t na
Sandra’s POVThe palace walls were too quiet this morning. A shift. A whisper. Like the whole house had turned its eyes on me.They think I poisoned them.Not openly, not yet, but the seed had been planted. Susan might have failed to kill anyone, but she’d succeeded in something worse: turning the court’s eyes on me.And the worst part?Mrs. Axel wasn’t even trying to hide her suspicion anymore.She didn’t look up when I stepped in.“Good morning,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.She didn’t answer right away. Just a single glance over the rim of her teacup.“You’re up early.”“I could say the same.”I crossed the room and stood opposite her. I didn’t sit. Not yet.Mrs. Axel finally set her teacup down and folded her hands in her lap, like a queen on a throne.“I imagine sleep was difficult, given last night’s… situation.”Situation.That’s what she was calling it. Not the attempt on my reputation. Not the fact that someone poisoned the royal wine to frame me. No. Just a situati