Raisel – POVI sat across from Soren as he handed me a vodka, pouring whiskey for himself. His broad shoulders were tense beneath the tailored tuxedo, a perfect fit that made him look like something out of a magazine. No wonder every single woman at the wedding scowled when they saw me—the woman who had somehow managed to capture the attention of the most eligible billionaire bachelor. But the tension between us tonight had little to do with envy or attraction. It was something far darker.I watched him as he settled on the couch, unsure of where to begin. He was never one for conversations like this—too much of an introvert to spill his thoughts easily.“You should know I’m on your side,” Soren finally broke the silence as I took a sip of my vodka.“Genius, I figured that much, though I had my doubts,” I replied, and he frowned slightly. “But after tonight, I trust you more. It’s clear you’re serious about taking revenge on Alaric and Davina.” I sipped again, letting the burn distrac
Raisel – POVLenny and Lora were both off today because we were heading to Soren’s grandfather’s for lunch and dinner. I sat at the table, unable to take my eyes off the view before me—Soren, shirtless, his broad back flexing as he moved in nothing but sweatpants. He was making pancakes and brewing coffee, insisting I sit and wait. I’d protested, saying I’d cook, but he never listened. Now, I was glad I hadn’t pushed harder. His muscles rippled under his skin as he worked, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away.I wished, for a fleeting moment, that he was still the nerd with braces and glasses—the one with a lean body that had somehow transformed into this athletic figure standing in front of me. Shaking off the thought, I forced my attention back to my phone, feeling like a voyeur. I was sure he felt my stare. And when I felt his gaze return, it was like a jolt to my system. Heat rose to my cheeks, and I pretended to focus on an article about Davina and Alaric’s disastrous wedding. Pictur
Raisel – POVSoren’s grip tightened around my hand, silencing me with nothing more than pressure. His voice cut through the room, low and edged. “Grandpa, I told you to play nice—for once.” His eyes, narrowed to dangerous slits, flicked over to me. I dared a glance at Mr. Beau, but his face remained emotionless, utterly indifferent to the warning hanging thick in the air.“Calm down, Soren,” I whispered, though he didn’t turn to me. His gaze remained fixed on his grandfather, who watched us both like we were subjects under a microscope. “I’m not with Soren for his money,” I blurted, desperate to end the silent war already brewing between them.Mr. Beau’s voice was steady, cold. “Do you work?” The question slithered out as I gripped Soren’s arm, holding him back. To my surprise, he remained silent, his eyes lingering on where my fingers clung to him.“No,” I replied, my voice barely audible.“Hard to believe you’re not after his money, then.” His tone dripped with accusation, making So
Soren – POVThe new office is finally ready—a business I’ve built without a single cent of Dalton family money. Now, the task is to make it succeed. I glance over the files in front of me, filled with the specs for a new automobile—one that will give my competitors no room to breathe. My gaze briefly shifts to Gwen, my secretary, as she arranges the paperwork.Raisel is seated next to me, holding her composure though I can sense the tension she hides. Across the table, the other designers and engineers are present, waiting for direction. As I discuss the vision for the car, I make it clear: the model needs to be revolutionary, something that not only stands out but crushes the competition. The files contain every detail, the contracts have been signed, and I’ve ensured no one will leak or steal my ideas.I check my watch—two hours of discussion. It’s time to end this.“Meeting adjourned. I need the prototype ready in a month.”“A month is a tight deadline, Mr. Dalton,” one of the desi
Raisel – POVAfter a suffocating session with the counselor, I spot Soren in the waiting room. He sits there, oblivious to the hungry gazes of the women around him, his attention buried in his phone. I stride toward him, and when our eyes meet, he greets me with a smile that feels almost too innocent. “Here’s your Americano,” he says, handing me the coffee. I take it, forcing a grateful smile as he guides me out of the counselor’s office. I can feel eyes on us—phones pointed, pictures snapped, their interest feeding off the spectacle of our every move. But none of it bothers me. Not when I’m with him.We head to the car, ready to sell the apartment Alaric and I had once called home. A few potential buyers are lined up, and Soren insists on accompanying me. As the clients filter through, I go through the motions, showing them the penthouse that once held so many memories. A few offer to buy, but their offers fall short.“The house will be sold for no less than ten billion,” Soren decla
Soren – POV Raisel’s been giving me the cold shoulder ever since our fight last night. It wasn’t the first time we argued, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I hate seeing her upset, even if—strangely—she looks kind of cute when she’s mad. The way she glares at me, subtle but sharp… I hate it, but at the same time, I’m drawn to it. I sighed and glanced at my phone. Davina had sent another one of her threat messages. Apparently, she’s going to blow up some scandal about Dalton firm that could ruin me. She’s delusional if she thinks it’s that simple. My deal with her was clear: I’d give her dirt on Alaric, the guy she’s been obsessed with since college. She’s still stuck on him, even though her bad habits are the reason Alaric left her for Raisel. And I hate him for taking Raisel away from me. Davina and Alaric still kept in touch, even if it was all just dirty messages at this point. I heard about it from her best friend—who, coincidentally, I was sleeping with at the time. Yeah, s
Soren’s POVA constant beeping pierced through the haze, tugging me back to consciousness. I squinted, my eyes struggling to adjust to the bright light overhead. Slowly, the blur around me sharpened. White ceiling. The sterile smell of antiseptic. A sharp, throbbing headache reminded me of where I was.I glanced down to see an IV needle buried in my hand, tubes connecting me to the machine that was keeping me alive. My grandfather sat in the chair beside me, his expression unreadable.I reached for the oxygen mask, pulling it off as I tried to find my voice.“You barely survived,” he said, his tone flat, offering no comfort.The memories of what had happened came flooding back all at once. Panic surged through me, and I shoved the blanket aside, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.“Where are you going?” my grandfather asked, his voice sharp with warning.“Raisel... where is she?” I rasped, my throat burning with every word.A nurse hurried over, trying to stop me. “She’s in the
Raisel’s POVI fell silent after his confession. The room seemed to hold its breath, and a sigh escaped his lips as the silence stretched, becoming unbearably awkward. I didn’t know what to say. Soren studied me for a second longer, then excused himself and left the room.After being discharged from the hospital, we returned to the penthouse. My body still felt weak, but Soren moved around as if nothing had happened, back to his usual self.“Take this,” he said, handing me a small bottle of strange-looking liquid.“What is it?” I asked, eyeing it suspiciously.“An antidote,” he said, breaking the silence. I hesitated. “Raisel, it’s not the first time I’ve been poisoned,” he added with a faint smile, as if the idea didn’t shock him at all. “I’ve built up immunity, so I’m fine now. You can take this—it’ll help you recover.”“Who tried to kill you this time?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.“I have enemies everywhere,” he said calmly, showing no fear of another attack. “I don’t