Caroline’s Point of View "Caroline," he begins, his voice uncharacteristically tentative. "I want you to know... I didn’t hide my connection to Knoxx on purpose. I didn’t want to overwhelm you with my past, and, truthfully, I haven’t been in that family’s inner circle for years. Being Knoxx’s brother… it’s complicated.” He pauses, looking away as though gathering his thoughts. “Our father pushed me out of the picture a long time ago. I haven’t had a stake in the family business or influence over them in years.”The sincerity in his tone makes my heart ache a little. Adrian has always been someone I could count on, especially recently, yet he’s been carrying the weight of his own complicated family history this whole time.“I know you didn’t mean to hide anything, Adrian,” I say softly, hoping to reassure him. “And it’s not your fault. I don’t hold any of it against you.”He offers me a small, grateful smile, but his expression grows serious again as he glances toward the door of the l
Knoxx’s Point of ViewI hang up the phone, my hand lingering on the receiver as if it could somehow undo what just happened. Caroline wants a divorce. The words echo in my head, harsh and final, but I can’t wrap my mind around it. I never thought she would actually go through with it. Not Caroline.For years, she’s been there for me. Despite my coldness, my distance, she’s always stayed. She’s always cared for me, no matter how much I tried to push her away. She cooks for me, even when I tell her it’s unnecessary, that the maids can handle it. But she insists, saying something about wanting to be a wife who takes care of her husband. I didn’t understand it then. I thought it was just another way for her to fit into the role she was forced into—just like I had been forced into this marriage.I rub my forehead, trying to shake off the memories, but they keep flooding back. I can still feel her hands against my skin, pressing gently on my forehead when I was feverish after a long night o
Caroline’s Point of ViewI stare at the divorce papers on the kitchen counter, the crisp white pages mocking me with their emptiness. Weeks have passed, and Knoxx hasn’t signed them yet. I know he’s avoiding it, but I can’t help but feel trapped, like I’m stuck in this limbo, waiting for something that will never come. I can’t keep pretending like things are fine. We’re done.My phone buzzes on the counter, dragging me out of my thoughts. I glance at the screen and feel a surge of irritation. Dolly. She just can’t leave me alone, can she? She’s always been impatient, wanting things her way right when she demands them.With a sigh, I pick up the call, bracing myself for what’s about to come.“Caroline,” Dolly’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and impatient. “What’s taking so long? Why haven’t you gotten divorced yet?”I blink, taken aback by her bluntness. No greeting, no small talk, just straight to her demands. Of course. She always gets right to it, like I owe her something.“G
Caroline’s Poin of View[Come home.]I glance down at my phone, seeing a text from Knoxx. My brows furrow as I read it again. Home? Why? The confusion lingers in my mind as I sit down on the edge of the bed, staring at the message. There’s no explanation, just a request, or rather, a command.A part of me wants to ignore it, to keep the distance I’ve been trying to build between us. But then I think about Grandpa. His birthday is today, and I know I’m doing this for him, not for Knoxx.Reluctantly, I reply, [I’ll be there.]When I arrive at the house later that day, I’m surprised to see a team of stylists waiting for me. One of them approaches with a warm smile, holding a bundle of clothes. “We’re here to help you get ready for the party, Mrs. Hamilton.”My confusion deepens. "It's just Grandpa's birthday. Why do I need all this?" I ask, looking around at the racks of dresses and trays of makeup.Knoxx steps into the room, his tall frame taking up space like it always does. "There wil
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe loving couple we played fooled everyone, even Knoxx himself, who now looked like a devoted husband. His hand rests lightly on the small of my back, guiding me through the grand ballroom with ease, and his smile is warm and practiced, as though none of this is fake. To the guests, we’re the perfect picture of a happy couple, but I know the truth.Every glance he gives me, every small gesture, feels rehearsed. It’s all part of the act. The man beside me is the father of another woman’s child. My stomach churns at the thought, but I keep my face calm, offering smiles and polite nods. Tonight, none of this is for me—it’s for Grandpa.When we arrive at the dinner party, the grandeur of the venue hits me. The room is draped in golden fabric that glimmers under the light of massive crystal chandeliers, casting a warm glow across the tables adorned with pristine linens. Elaborate floral arrangements sit in the center of each table, and servers in black-and-white un
Knoxx’s Point of View“Wha…what did you just say, Karen?” Grandpa opens his mouth, but suddenly, his face drains of color. His hand shoots to his chest, and his breathing becomes ragged. He looks like he’s about to collapse, as if he’s having a heart attack.“Grandpa!” My heart stops for a second, panic gripping me as I watch him struggle.“Grandpa, calm down!” Caroline notices the change in Grandpa too. Her eyes widen with alarm, and she rushes toward him. “Take deep breaths. It’s okay.”I can see the worry in her eyes, and I know she’s thinking about what mom just said. Then, she turns her head to me. Her expression hardens and confuse. She swallows hard and speaks, “Knoxx, maybe we should just tell him now… he deserves to know.”“No!” I reach out to grab her arm, urgency flooding my voice. “Not now, please. Let’s not do this for now.”Grandpa's breathing grows more uneven, and he grips the table for support. “What is happening? Knoxx, Caroline—what are you two hiding from me?”I l
Caroline’s Point of ViewI sit in the car, my heart still racing after everything Knoxx just told me. I can’t believe what I’ve just heard, and yet, the way he looked at me—desperate, almost broken—makes me want to believe him. But after everything we’ve been through, trusting him feels like stepping onto thin ice."Caroline, please," Knoxx says quietly, glancing at me from the driver’s seat. "I just need you to understand. I never wanted to hurt you."I lean my head against the window, fingers fidgeting with my phone. The memory of Dolly’s articles and their implications lingers like a shadow I can’t shake.I nod slowly, unsure of what to say. Part of me wants to scream, wants to ask why he didn’t tell me all of this sooner. But another part of me—the part that still loves him—wants to believe him. That part feels foolish, but it’s there, clinging to the hope that things could still change."I just don’t understand," I finally say, my voice edged with frustration. "Why didn’t you tell
Caroline’s Point of ViewIt’s Saturday, and my hands tremble as I adjust my dress for the hundredth time in front of the mirror. Today is supposed to be a turning point—Knoxx is finally going to meet my dad. The knot of nerves in my stomach tightens, but there’s a flicker of excitement too. For once, I have a chance to prove myself, not just to my dad but to myself as well.I glance at my phone, seeing a message from my father:[When will the young master come? Should I take out my fine china to entertain him?]The sarcasm in his words stings. He’s never been a fan of Knoxx, and his mocking tone makes it clear that he still doesn’t think highly of him. I grit my teeth, typing back a reply.[We’ll be there soon, Dad. Please just give him a chance.]I hit send, determined not to let his doubt ruin this day. Today isn’t just about Knoxx meeting my father—it’s about proving that this misunderstanding won’t define us. Once the air is cleared, I know we’ll be happy again.Knoxx walks into th
Caroline’s Point of ViewAdrian walks beside me, holding Liam’s small hand in his own while I grip the other. His fingers squeeze mine gently, a subtle reminder that he’s here, steady as always. Penelope strides ahead of us, her heels clicking against the marble floor in sharp, purposeful steps. I don’t have to ask to know she’s irritated.Her shoulders are rigid, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, her entire body wound up like a coil ready to snap.And I understand why.Tonight was supposed to be my night. A night of celebration, a moment where my hard work paid off and I got to bask in the well-deserved victory. But of course, Dolly had to make sure she was still the center of attention. Even now, I can hear the echoes of the crowd cheering for her engagement—louder, more enthusiastic than their applause for my win.Because that’s just how Dolly operates.If the spotlight isn’t on he
Knoxx’s Point of ViewWhat… just happened?One second, I’m watching Caroline stand on that stage, victorious, glowing under the ballroom lights as she accepts her trophy. My chest tightens at the sight—it should be me standing beside her. I should be the one sharing this moment with her. But before I can even begin to process the sharp pang of loss, my entire world tilts.Because then—I see him.Adrian.With his arms wrapped around her.Pulling her in—too close.My jaw tightens, my fingers clenching at my sides as a slow, seething heat begins to burn through my veins.And then, like a goddamn dagger to the gut—He presses his lips to her.Not fully. Not directly on her lips. But on the corner of her mouth—an intimacy so deliberate, so possessive, that my breath locks in my throat.A claim.The bastard kissed my wife.My head pounds, my entire body locking up as my gaze snaps to Caroline, waiting—needing—to see her reaction.Push him away, I tell her in my mind. Shove him. Slap him. D
Caroline's POVWhat... just happened?The ballroom's atmosphere changes so fast, I feel transported to a different world. Moments ago, everyone watched me. The announcer named me the winner, and applause, cheers, and praise for my work filled the room. But now—now it all slips away taken from me before I can understand it.The whispers start as a tiny ripple, a gentle wave of bewilderment spreads through the crowd. But then—The movement starts.People step back making a space in the room's center, creating an unplanned stage.And there, in the heart of it all—Down on one knee.Kneeling.Her hands shake, but her face shows a gentle planned smile, the image of love. In her hand, a ring sparkles under the bright ballroom lights.And she's offering it—To Knoxx.A nasty churning feeling grips my gut, my heartbeat stopping for a quick still second.What's she up to?But then, I get it.Of course I do.Because she is Dolly.Dolly, the one born to grab the limelight, to snatch what's not h
Dolly's Point of ViewI can't breathe.The world around me seems to collapse, the walls of this grand venue push in from all sides. My ears ring, the sounds of the room fade to a dull hum, but one voice—one name—cuts through everything like a sharp unforgiving blade."The first-place winner is… Caroline Hill!"No.No.No.The room explodes into loud applause. A deafening, spirit-crushing sound. People stand up, clap cheer celebrate her.My body won't move. My heart pounds against my ribs, a fierce uneven beat that hurts my chest.This can't be true. It's impossible.Caroline? Caroline came out on top?My gut twists. Acid rises in my throat as I try to grasp the words that just broke my world. I breathe fast and shallow. My sight gets fuzzy as it sinks in—I didn't win.I didn't win.No.Why? Why?!I put in too much work for this. I gave up too much. My designs had no flaws—they were perfect. They told a tale sparked feelings, showed what love is!Caroline's work?It was just a dull de
Caroline's Point of View“The winner of this competition is…”The host stops drawing out the moment until it's ready to snap, building the tension so high that it seems like everyone in the ballroom is holding their breath together. The suspense is heavy, overwhelming, with nervous energy buzzing through the room.I hear clothes rustling as people move in their chairs, glasses tinkling far off, and guests talking to each other. Every person here waits, braces themselves, their eyes glued to the stage.My heart beats so loud it drowns out all other sounds.I grip the delicate stem of my champagne glass with stiff fingers, my knuckles turning white from the pressure. My body stays rigid caught between anticipation and doubt.This is it.This is the moment that changes everything.Across the room, my gaze briefly flickers to Dolly. She remains motionless. Her frame seems tense almost frozen, her polished nails sinking into the tablecloth. Her eyes sharp and vigilant, stay fixed on the ho
Dolly’s Point of ViewI can’t believe it.Even after all these years, there are still people so blind, so utterly clueless, that they still call her Mrs. Wayne.And the worst part?Knoxx doesn’t correct them.Not a single word. Not even a flicker of disagreement. He just stands there, letting them believe it, as if she still holds that title.As if she still matters.My fingers tighten around my champagne glass, the delicate stem pressing into my palm like a warning. Steady yourself, Dolly. Don’t let them see.But inside, I’m seething.I remember back in the United States, when people would mistakenly call me Mrs. Wayne. It happened more times than I could count. At dinners, in business meetings, even at charity events where we were seen together as a family.And every time, Knoxx would shake his head, his voice cool and firm as he corrected them.“We’re not married,” he’d say, almost indifferent. “She still has her own name.”That moment replays in my mind like a slap across the face
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe cheers for the third-place winner quiet down to a low buzz mixing with the crowd's chatter and the sound of glasses tapping. The young woman on stage gives a small bow, her face red as she grips her award , afraid it might fall from her hands.I observe her noticing how her eyes jump around and how she keeps moving her feet as if she's still in disbelief about what's happening.She’s young. Maybe early twenties. Her design was good—not groundbreaking, not extraordinary—but there was potential. A lot of potential.A small pang of nostalgia grips me. I remember what it felt like to be her. To be young, to be filled with ambition, to want so badly to make a name for yourself in an industry that only respects experience. I know that hunger. I was that hunger.I exhale slowly, lifting my glass slightly in her direction before taking a sip.“She’s got talent,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else. “Just needs experience.”Beside me, Penelope hums, tilting h
Caroline's Point of ViewThe museum buzzes with anticipation, an undercurrent of energy that I can feel thrumming in my bones. Voices blend into a low hum, whispers rippling through the crowd as people shift, adjusting their positions for a better view of the stage. Some reporters are already clutching their notepads and adjusting their cameras, eager to capture the final moments of the competition.But my focus isn’t on them.Because across the room, in the farthest corner, stands Adrian.And he’s holding Liam’s hand.My breath catches in my throat.Liam, small and fidgeting with barely contained excitement, is tugging slightly at Adrian’s arm, his little mouth moving quickly—probably asking questions about what’s happening. Adrian listens, nodding in that calm, patient way of his, but his eyes flick up.To me.Then, as if making a silent decision, Adrian bends down and effortlessly lifts Liam onto his shoulders.I inhale sharply, my fingers curling slightly against my dress.It’s su
Caroline’s Point of ViewDolly’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard—grating and sickly sweet.“Of course, that would be me.”She steps into view like she owns the room, her heels clicking against the marble floor with a deliberate kind of grace. Fake grace. The kind that screams ‘look at me, I belong here,’ when in reality, she’s always been a second choice, a shadow chasing after something that was never meant to be hers.Her eyes shine with triumph, but I see past the glittering facade. It’s not confidence. It’s desperation. A hunger to prove—to herself, to me, to everyone—that she has won. That she has him.And yet, the way she moves, the way she clings, it’s all too telling.She boldly slips her arm through Knoxx’s, her fingers curling around his bicep like she’s afraid he’ll slip away if she doesn’t hold on tight enough. And maybe, deep down, she knows the truth.That he isn’t hers. Not really. Not fully.But that doesn’t stop her.Her touch is deliberate, a statement. A patheti