Nina's POVAs I stood there, my eyes widened in disbelief while Mark held me close to his side. The warmth of his arm wrapped around my waist felt strangely comforting, even though I was still reeling from the shock. How could this be happening? Mark Santiago—the man standing beside me, my husband—was actually *the* Mark Santiago, CEO of Santiago Group, the wealthiest man in New York? I tried to wrap my head around it, but my mind spun.“Are you serious right now?” I managed to murmur, barely able to keep my voice steady. My heart was racing, and I stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he might be pulling some kind of elaborate prank.He gave me that familiar, slightly smug smile, but this time, there was a warmth in his gaze that made me feel unexpectedly safe. “Yes, Nina,” he said, his voice calm and unwavering. “I didn’t lie to you.”Greg, who had been standing nearby looking tense, now turned to face Mark, visibly swallowing as if trying to find his courage. His face
**Mark's POV**The moment Nina walked into the party hall with Mr. Bernard, something shifted inside me. Today, I felt an unfamiliar ache—a strange, raw sensation tugging at me. I hadn’t been this affected by a woman in years, let alone cared enough to step in to protect one. Yet, when I saw a man daring to raise a hand to her, I acted before I could think, my hand instinctively reaching out to her waist. And now, here I was, still replaying that moment, haunted by the warmth and fragility I’d felt in my hold. Nina—my wife in name only—was different. She was unguarded, vulnerable, and it made me feel…responsible, maybe even possessive. She's looking so snatched and breathtaking tonight in her attire. I don't think I can resist her!But duty called, and I tore my gaze from her, watching as she disappeared into the crowd with Mr. Bernard. I took a deep breath, pulling my focus back to the present as I turned to Greg.“So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” I asked, keeping my
Nina's POVAs Alexa flounced over to Mr. Lawrence, her face contorted into a perfect mask of innocence, her big, doe-like eyes brimming with fake vulnerability, I fought back an eyeroll. Her entire aura screamed, “Daddy’s little girl,” even though I knew—*we both knew*—this man wasn’t her father. From what I’d learned, he was a security captain for the Mark Group, not her biological father, nor any kind of family. But even if he is, I don't really care!But Alexa? She had this knack for twisting any situation, positioning herself as the blameless victim.“Daddy!” she cooed, clutching his arm. “This woman is stalking my boyfriend! She’s trying to humiliate me here, right in the middle of the party.”I almost laughed. “Humiliate you?” The words escaped me before I could help myself, disbelief painting my face.Mr. Lawrence cast a stern look in my direction, crossing his arms in a manner meant to intimidate. Alexa smirked, waltzing back to Jordan, who patted her back with a satisfied smi
Nina's POVAs Mark and I stood there, surrounded by the hum of conversation and clinking glasses, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the stares around us, each gaze filled with curiosity, awe, or jealousy. Mark’s arm wrapped protectively around me, and I could see the resolve in his eyes—a look that told me he was about to make a statement no one would forget.“Nina,” he whispered, his voice deep and warm, carrying a strength that made me feel safe, “Are you alright? I’m sorry I’m late.” His gaze softened, but there was a flash of anger in his eyes as he glanced over at Jordan and Alexa.I gave him a small nod, swallowing hard to control the whirlwind of emotions within me. “Yes,” I replied, steadying my voice, “I’m fine.”Mark turned his attention to Mr. Bernard, his voice carrying a newfound authority. “Thank you, Mr. Bernard, for protecting my wife,” he said, offering a slight nod of acknowledgment. “I have an offer for you. My company is looking for a new partnership, and I’ll
Nina's POV I stood next to Mark on the stage, heart pounding, as the tension in the room grew thicker with every word being exchanged. Alexa’s voice echoed in the air, slicing through the soft murmurs of the guests who had gathered for what should have been a celebratory event.“Who does she think she is?” Alexa’s voice cracked, rising even louder, her face twisted with indignation. “How can she just barge into this family and mess things up? She doesn't know Mr. Mark like I do! And she actually asked him to cancel a six-million-dollar contract! Six million!” Her fists clenched, knuckles white against her skin. She was practically shaking, her eyes wild, darting across the room to find her father, Jordan, who had his lips pressed in a thin, disapproving line.Jordan, with a deep frown furrowing his brows, stood as rigid as a statue. He was clearly trying to control his own anger, but Alexa’s words seemed to fuel it even more. I could feel the weight of their judgment, their hostility
Nina's POVI steadied myself, my fingers curling tighter around Mark’s arm as I glanced at the murmuring crowd. Alexa’s voice sliced through the low hum of chatter. She looked at me with a mixture of triumph and mockery, her eyes gleaming like a predator that had found its prey. Meanwhile, Jordan’s narrowed gaze bore into me with a fury that simmered just below the surface. My heart pounded, but I forced myself to remain calm, keeping my expression neutral as I looked on. They wanted a reaction out of me, a hint of insecurity or fear—but I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction.Just as I tried to focus elsewhere, a figure approached. I immediately recognized the man who had been one of the many people gossiping about me when I entered the room. He was handsome, with a smirk that was more venom than charm. As he walked closer, he didn’t bother hiding his disdain, his gaze fixated on me with an intensity that was unsettling. Mark's posture shifted subtly beside me, his shoulders tensing.
Nina's POV **Nina’s POV**The quiet but distinct click of heels on the marble floor drew all eyes toward her—the woman approaching us with a calm, almost regal gait. The poised elegance with which she moved was undeniable, but her eyes—oh, her eyes—flashed with an intensity I couldn’t mistake. She was angry. Not at anyone else here, not at Tony, not even at Mark. No, that laser-like focus was trained directly on me, as though I were some intruder in her perfect little world.“Mark,” she greeted him with a smile, but there was no warmth in it. “Good to see you. But how could you mistreat my brother…for an outsider?” Her voice had the syrupy sweetness of someone playing nice, but her expression was anything but kind.Mark's face tightened, a look I had come to recognize—one that said he was barely tolerating her presence. His patience, his politeness, his very composure seemed to be on the brink. And though he didn’t respond, I could tell he was struggling not to let his frustration sh
Nina's POVThe woman Mark called "Grandma" walked in with a young girl at her side, holding her hand. She looked like she was in her late seventies, yet despite her age, her skin was remarkably smooth, glowing with the kind of radiance only the very wealthy seemed to possess. It was hard not to be in awe of her presence, exuding elegance and dignity with every step she took across the polished marble floor. The opulent environment around her seemed to pale in comparison to her calm, commanding aura. As she walked towards us, Sarah’s face lit up with a polite smile that barely masked her smugness."Mrs. Santiago," Sarah greeted, her voice laced with charm, "I am so very happy to see you today. You look as gorgeous as always."Mrs. Santiago reached out, gently grasping Sarah’s hands as she smiled warmly. “And you, my dear, look lovely as well. I'm delighted to see you here. Such an honor.”Their exchange had an air of familiarity, an easy confidence that made me feel slightly out of pla
Miranda’s POVThe air in the restaurant was heavy, suffocating almost, as I tried to keep my composure. Across from me, Desmond sat with a grin that stretched too wide, his eyes brimming with an almost childlike excitement. It was nauseating. He leaned closer, his voice cutting through the low hum of the other diners."Miss Layla," he began, his tone overly sweet, "please tell me—you are considering canceling your engagement with Nolan, right? I mean, that would be the best decision you’ve ever made. I’m ready for you. I’ve always been ready."The audacity of his words made me laugh, a short, bitter sound that escaped before I could stop it. If only he knew the truth. If only he understood the depth of his betrayal and the ruin he brought to my life before this second chance. If not for fate intervening, I would’ve been dead by now, buried six feet under while he danced on my grave.Still, I kept my expression neutral, letting my fingers trace the rim of the coffee cup before me. His
Miranda’s POVDesmond blocked my path as I exited the restaurant, his expression plastered with a self-satisfied smirk that did nothing but annoy me. His desperation to hold my attention was written all over his face, and for someone who claimed to have everything under control, he was anything but subtle.“Miss Laila,” he started, his tone a mix of pleading and practiced charm. “I was hoping we could talk.”I didn’t even slow down. “About what, Desmond?” I shot back, barely glancing at him. My voice was calm, but the annoyance was evident in my tone. “Your lies? Your desperate attempts at flattery? Or the chaos you bring wherever you go?”He flinched slightly but quickly masked it with another charming smile. “No, nothing like that,” he said, walking alongside me as I headed into the shopping mall next door. “I just wanted to make things clear between us. I feel like you misunderstand me.”I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Misunderstand you? I don’t think I do. You’re transparent,
Miranda’s POV Desmond. His name alone was enough to make my skin crawl. A green snake in green grass—a perfect idiom for the kind of man he was. I had known him far too long, loved him far too deeply, and been betrayed by him in ways I could never forget. We had been married for three years, and in those years, I had learned one undeniable truth: Desmond was a master of deception. As Clara and I arrived at the restaurant for lunch, she quickly excused herself to find us a table, leaving me to my thoughts. My gaze naturally scanned the parking lot, and there he was. Desmond. And with him was someone I had hoped never to see again—Brenda. My lips curled into a bitter smile as I watched her wrap her arms around him from behind. The smug grin on her face screamed familiarity, intimacy, and arrogance. Desmond, ever the performer, immediately began pushing her away as soon as he noticed me. His face morphed into one of exaggerated annoyance, but I could see right through him. I wasn’t r
Miranda’s POVDesmond. His name alone was enough to make my skin crawl. A green snake in green grass—a perfect idiom for the kind of man he was. I had known him far too long, loved him far too deeply, and been betrayed by him in ways I could never forget. We had been married for three years, and in those years, I had learned one undeniable truth: Desmond was a master of deception.As Clara and I arrived at the restaurant for lunch, she quickly excused herself to find us a table, leaving me to my thoughts. My gaze naturally scanned the parking lot, and there he was. Desmond. And with him was someone I had hoped never to see again—Brenda.My lips curled into a bitter smile as I watched her wrap her arms around him from behind. The smug grin on her face screamed familiarity, intimacy, and arrogance. Desmond, ever the performer, immediately began pushing her away as soon as he noticed me. His face morphed into one of exaggerated annoyance, but I could see righ
Miranda's POVNolan and Desmond—two men entangled in a dangerous web they believed I couldn’t untangle. Little did they know, I had no intention of being anyone’s pawn. They thought I was weak, someone who could be manipulated, but this time, I held all the cards. I wasn’t seeking love, not from them or anyone. My reincarnation wasn’t a gift for a second chance at romance—it was for revenge.Sitting in my office, Nolan’s words still echoed in my mind. His warning was genuine, his concern palpable. “Desmond is dangerous,” he’d said. I didn’t need his caution. Desmond was my ex-husband, the man who had betrayed and murdered me in my past life. I knew his motives better than anyone.Nolan, on the other hand, intrigued me. There was a sincerity in his voice that made it difficult to brush him off completely. Unlike Desmond, his intentions didn’t seem malicious—at least not yet. But sincerity wasn’t enough to earn my trust. Both men had their sights set on my f
Miranda's POV They were all just barking like dogs, their voices blending into a cacophony of anger and frustration. I stood there, unfazed, watching the chaos unfold. My stepmother and stepsister were putting on a show for everyone in the restaurant, their faces contorted with rage. To me, it was amusing. No matter how loudly they yelled, it didn’t matter. I was prepared for them—more than they realized.But since this was a public place, I knew I couldn't fully indulge in what I wanted to say or do. Still, a part of me itched to stay. I wanted to see just how far they’d go. As I turned to leave, Desmond called out, his voice laced with a desperate apology.“Lila, wait,” he said, stepping toward me.I paused and looked back at him. His expression was conflicted, a mixture of guilt and determination etched across his face. I raised a brow, waiting for him to speak. Before he could, my stepmother rushed toward us, her face red with fury.
Miranda's POV The next morning, I stretched languidly on my puffy bed, savoring the brief calm. The sunlight filtering through the curtains felt unusually gentle, a rare moment of peace I rarely allowed myself to indulge in. That was until my phone buzzed insistently, dragging me out of my reverie. Groaning, I reached for it, curiosity outweighing my reluctance to face the day."Hello, who is this?" I asked, my voice groggy but sharp enough to convey my irritation."Good morning, Ms. Lila," came the smooth, familiar voice.I froze for a second before recognition hit me like a lightning bolt. Desmond. My ex-husband. My lips tightened as I sat up in bed, the sheets pooling around me. How in the hell did he get my number?"It's me, Desmond," he continued. "I wanted to thank you again for what you did yesterday. I owe you one."Feigning calm, I pressed the phone tighter against my ear, forcing my voice to remain neutral. "How did yo
Miranda’s POVAs I stared down at the battered figure of Desmond, I couldn’t help but suppress a sardonic smile. There he was, the man who destroyed me in my past life, lying helpless before me. He clutched his ribs, groaning in pain, his disheveled hair falling over his face. Part of me wanted to leave him there, to let him feel what helplessness truly meant. But another part, the calculating part, saw an opportunity.I crouched down, feigning concern as I tilted my head and forced a sweet smile. “Desmond,” I said, my voice honeyed but devoid of warmth, “are you dying, or are you just being dramatic?”His eyes fluttered open, glassy with pain. “I saved you, didn’t I?” he croaked. “The least you could do is help me now.”I rolled my eyes but quickly masked the motion with a look of feigned worry. “Fine,” I said, brushing invisible dust off my tailored blazer. “But let’s get one thing straight. I’m helping you because I need answers, not because I
Miranda's POVTriumph swelled within me as I walked out of the boardroom, my heels clicking against the tiled floor. The smile on my face was hard to suppress. Mr. Williams was finally out of my way—at least for the next six months. I had worked tirelessly to craft a strategy that would ensure his forced leave, a decision sealed by my unwavering determination. For months, he had been a thorn in my side, his every move calculated to undermine my authority. I knew he had been tormenting Laila, the woman whose body I now inhabited. His mere presence was a nightmare I refused to endure any longer.The six-month leave was my way of saying, "You’re done here." And though the message was veiled in corporate professionalism, I intended to make sure that he never returned.As I descended the stairs, my mood remained buoyant. The garage was dimly lit, the faint hum of fluorescent lights echoing through the vast space. My car beeped as I pressed the key fob, its lights flashing in greeting. Just