Caroline’s Point of ViewThe morning shines through the curtains of the living room as I sit on the sofa, watching TV. After a moment, my phone rings, and I don’t have to look to know exactly who it is. Nonetheless, I still glance at the screen.Knoxx is calling...My heart doesn’t skip a beat. It doesn’t break. It just feels... tired. Still, I answer. I owe him that much.“Caroline,” Knoxx’s voice filters through the line. He sounds rushed, almost breathless. “I saw the papers... Look, I’m sorry about missing the visit to your dad. But something came up with Dolly. She thought—well, she thought she was having a miscarriage. I had to be there for her.”There’s a pause. He expects me to understand. He expects me to forgive him, like I always do.I hold the phone tighter, forcing my voice to stay calm, cold even. “Do you really think that’s why I’m divorcing you, Knoxx?”He hesitates. I can almost see the confusion on his face. He’s never good at understanding what’s right in front of hi
Caroline's Point of ViewI walk into the office for what I swear will be the last time. It’s strange how cold the place feels now—colder than usual. The building has always had this stiff, corporate vibe, but today, it feels almost unbearable. Maybe it’s because I know what I’m here to do: quit. End it all, both my job and my marriage.No one knows I’m Knoxx Wayne’s wife. Not my coworkers, not the higher-ups, no one. Knoxx insisted we keep it a secret. He said it was to avoid favoritism, to maintain professionalism. I convinced myself that made sense, that it wasn’t because he was ashamed or unwilling to acknowledge me publicly. But deep down, I knew better.We were already on the brink of divorce, so quitting my job here seems like the natural next step. There’s no point in working in his company anymore, no point in subjecting myself to the constant reminder of how invisible I am to him. I walk past my coworkers, most of them absorbed in their own tasks, and make my way to his offic
Caroline's Point of ViewEvery day, I’m more determined. My fingers smudged with graphite as I trace over the delicate lines of the design. It’s almost there, but not quite perfect.The competition’s theme is “Celestial Beauty,” inspired by the stars, the universe, and everything beyond. I take a deep breath, letting the idea settle into my mind. It’s perfect. I’ve always been fascinated by astrology and the night sky, and I already have an idea for my design. My sketches are rough, but the vision is there: a necklace inspired by zodiac signs, with intricate details that represent the unique energy of each sign.My fingers move almost automatically as I sketch, adding small touches that bring the design to life. The centerpiece of the necklace will be a gemstone shaped like the zodiac constellation, surrounded by delicate silver filigree representing the stars. It’s detailed, personal, and exactly what I want it to be.I push my hair back, tuck it behind my ear, and lean in closer to
Caroline’s Point off ViewIt’s the day I’ve been preparing for, the day I hand in my final design for the competition. I’ve spent countless hours perfecting it, every line, every curve, making sure it’s flawless. My heart races with a mix of nerves and excitement as I walk into the submission office, holding my sketch folder close. This design means everything to me—it’s more than just an entry; it’s a symbol of my future, of moving on from Knoxx, from the life I’ve been trying to escape.When I reach the front desk, the woman behind the counter glances at my folder with disinterest and waves me toward the drop-off area. I place my work among the other entries and take a deep breath, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over me. I’ve done my best. That’s all I can do.But as I turn to leave, a voice calls my name.“Caroline Hill?”I stop and turn around, confused. “Yes?”The woman looks down at her clipboard, her brow furrowing. “There’s an issue with your submission.”My stomach drop
Knoxx’ s Point of ViewI’m sitting in my office, staring blankly at the documents in front of me, when I hear a knock at the door. Before I can respond, it swings open, and Dolly strides in, her usual confident smile plastered on her face. I already know this isn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.“Knoxx,” she says, her tone dripping with sweetness, “I thought you might want to hear this from me first.”I raise an eyebrow, motioning for her to continue. “What’s going on?”Dolly sits down, crossing her legs as if she owns the place. “Your soon-to-be ex-wife—Caroline—has been causing a bit of a stir. She’s been accused of plagiarism in the competition.”Plagiarism? My mind blanks for a moment. I didn’t even know Caroline was involved in anything that could lead to an accusation like that. I lean forward, resting my elbows on the desk.“What are you talking about? What competition?” I ask, my voice sharper than intended.Dolly’s smirk grows wider, like a predator closing in on its pr
Caroline’s Point of ViewI sit at my desk, staring at my computer screen, the accusations still ringing in my ears. Plagiarism. They think I plagiarized Dolly’s design. The absurdity of it makes my blood boil. Everything I’ve created, every sketch, every intricate detail, came from me. I’ve poured myself into this competition, staying up late night after night, working in secret. How could anyone think I would steal someone else’s work? Especially Dolly’s.I shake my head, trying to make sense of it all. Dolly couldn’t have just come up with the exact same design by coincidence. There’s no way. But how? How did she get her hands on it?I’ve always kept my designs private, stored on my personal computer at home. I’m careful about it—ever since I started working at Knoxx’s company, I made sure to never use work hours or resources for personal projects. I didn’t want it to seem unprofessional, especially since no one here knows I’m married to him. But that also means Dolly shouldn’t have
Caroline’s Point of ViewI gather everything I need, meticulously going through each piece of evidence, making sure nothing is missed. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve managed to pull together a few critical items. The surveillance footage from the hospital where Lisa’s mother is being treated shows Dolly meeting with her. That alone is enough to raise eyebrows. Then there’s the record of Dolly transferring a suspicious amount of money to Lisa shortly after their meeting. And finally, my original design drafts—dated and time-stamped. With all of this, I can prove Dolly stole my work.But it hasn’t been a smooth process. Every step of the way, I’ve faced obstacles. Some of the footage was hard to access, and even getting records of the transactions between Lisa and Dolly required a lot of patience. At one point, I felt like giving up, but I couldn’t. Not after everything Dolly had done to me. She needed to be exposed.I was surprised when Adrian offered to help me. I hadn’t expected it. A
Caroline’s Point of ViewAs I pack up my things, ready to leave the office, I hear the unmistakable sound of heels clicking against the polished floor. I know who it is before I even look up. Dolly strides in like she owns the world—shoulders back, chin high, her every movement oozing arrogance. It’s almost amusing how much effort she puts into looking untouchable, as if no one can challenge her.“Caroline,” she says, her voice dripping with fake pleasantries, but her eyes are sharp. She’s not here for small talk. “I need to talk to you.”I sigh inwardly, setting my bag down and turning to face her. “What do you want, Dolly?”Her smile tightens, a mask barely hiding her irritation. She inhales and crosses her arms, her bag clinking, dominating the silence of the room. “I need you to drop out of the competition.”I raise an eyebrow, feigning confusion. “And why would I do that?”Her composure falters for just a second, but she quickly regains it, stepping closer, her heels clicking lou
Caroline's Point of ViewI sit on the couch, my fingers touch the edge of my glass creating a soft clink that breaks the quiet between Adrian and me. My brain can't stop, ideas colliding as I look at Adrian, who sits across from me. His face gives nothing away, his body seems at ease, but I know better. I understand him more deeply. Something always hides under the surface with him.The impact of this revelation hits me hard making breathing tough. For years, I clung to that memory—gripped it like a lifeline during my marriage's worst times, as if it proved Knoxx could do something good, something unselfish. But it wasn't him. It was Adrian.I let out a slow breath before I break the quiet. "Adrian," I begin, my voice gentler than I meant it to be. "The watch... that day... you saved me, didn't you?"Adrian looks at me, his dark eyes calm hard to read. He doesn't answer right away, which makes my heart race with suspense.After what seems like forever, he sits back on the couch drummi
Caroline’s Point of ViewI hesitate for a moment before knocking on Liam’s bedroom door, the soft sound barely audible in the quiet hallway. My fingers tighten slightly against the wood as I wait for a response. When none comes, I push the door open gently, peeking inside.Liam is curled up on his bed, his small frame illuminated by the glow of his nightlight. The soft, star-shaped light casts a faint pattern against the walls, a comforting presence in an otherwise heavy atmosphere.He doesn’t look at me when I enter.Instead, he stares at the ceiling, his brows furrowed in deep thought, his little hands gripping the blanket tightly. The sight makes my chest ache. I know that look—I’ve worn it too many times myself.Something is eating at him.I take a slow step forward, keeping my voice gentle. “Hey, buddy,” I say, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Uncle Adrian said you came home upset today. Want to talk about it?”Liam’s reaction is immediate. His small shoulders tense, and he shake
Caroline’s Point of ViewAs expected, Adrian’s entire demeanor shifts the moment his gaze lands on Alessandro. His usual cool confidence falters just enough for me to notice—the sharp furrow of his brows, the slight clench of his jaw, the way his shoulders stiffen like he’s bracing himself for something.Jealousy.It hums in the air between us, subtle but unmistakable.He steps forward, his movements controlled but laced with something tense, something taut and restrained. “Who’s this?” His voice is steady, but there’s a bite to it, a careful edge that makes my stomach flutter for reasons I don’t want to analyze too deeply.Alessandro, ever the charming one, doesn’t seem the least bit fazed. He offers a small smile, tilting his head as he introduces himself. “Alessandro Luca Romano,” he says smoothly, his Italian accent thick and effortless. “Caroline’s newest employee.”I can practically feel the heat of Adrian’s gaze as he shifts his attention to me, questioning, searching for somet
Dolly’s Point of ViewThe moment Knoxx mentions that our stay in Italy is only temporary, a sharp pang slices through my chest. I have always known this wasn’t permanent, but hearing it so plainly from his lips makes my stomach churn. It isn’t just about me anymore. My daughter loves it here.And I can’t say no to her.“Mommy, please,” she whines, tugging on the hem of my designer dress with her tiny hands. Her big, pleading eyes glisten as she looks up at me, her bottom lip jutting out in an almost perfect pout. “I don’t want to go back. I love it here. Italy is so much prettier than home! The people talk funny, but I like it!”I stroke her soft curls, my heart squeezing. She is my world, my perfect little angel. How can I deny her anything?I kneel in front of her, smoothing out the frills of her dress as I speak softly. “I know, sweetheart. Mommy loves it here too. But Daddy—” I hesitate, my lips pressing together. The words feel heavy, like they don’t belong in my mouth. “Daddy th
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe moment he speaks, I know I’m in trouble."I saw your job posting," he says, his deep, smooth voice laced with something effortlessly charming. "I’d like to apply."Penelope grips my wrist hard under the counter, and I barely suppress a wince.This man—this Italian god—is exactly the type of employee that would drive my customers crazy. And I don’t mean bad crazy. I mean good crazy. The buy-everything-in-the-store-just-to-see-him-smile kind of crazy.He's got a boyish charm, younger but still undeniably handsome. Tall and lean, he carries himself with effortless confidence, the kind that turns heads without trying. His dark brown hair is tousled in that perfect mix of careless and intentional, and his sharp, well-defined features make it impossible to look away.But it's his eyes that truly draw you in.A deep, warm hazel—alive with mischief, edged with something both playful and a little dangerous.He tilts his head, and I realize I’ve been quiet for too l
Caroline’s Point of ViewWinning the competition should have been the hardest part.I pour everything into my designs, fighting against sabotage, betrayal, and every possible obstacle thrown my way. Yet, standing in my boutique weeks later, watching the steady stream of customers come and go, I realize something.The real battle has just begun.Success has turned into an exhausting whirlwind. My inbox is constantly flooded with custom orders, my phone never stops buzzing with inquiries, and every time I sit down, another customer walks in needing assistance.At first, the rush of it all is exhilarating. Now? It’s just exhausting.Penelope leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching me struggle to balance three jewelry boxes while answering a customer's question. "You need help," she says, unimpressed."I’ve got it," I insist, shifting my grip.I do not have it.One box slips, and in my panic to catch it, the others follow.With a loud clatter, all three hit the floor.Penelope s
Caroline’s Point of ViewI grip my bag so tightly my fingers start to cramp. But I don’t loosen my hold. I don’t dare. Because if I do, I might lose my grip on more than just the bag—I might lose my grip on myself.My mind is still a storm of emotions, a violent whirlwind that refuses to settle, refuses to let me breathe. I replay every word of that kindergarten disaster, every sharp remark Dolly threw at me like knives, aiming straight for the parts of me she knew were already bruised."A child raised without a real father is bound to be unruly.""No wonder Knoxx replaced you."My jaw clenches, my teeth grinding together.How dare she?How dare she stand there, smug and victorious, as if she has some moral high ground over me?Dolly—the woman who stole my designs, my husband, and now wants to act as if she has the right to look down on me?The very thought of it makes my blood boil.I should have said more. Should have ripped her down from that pedestal she’s so desperate to stay on.
Caroline’s Point of View The call from the kindergarten comes when I’m in the middle of reviewing some design sketches. "Ms. Hill," the teacher's voice is tight with concern. "I'm sorry to bother you, but there's been… an incident with Liam." My heart stops for a second. I grip the phone tighter. "What happened?" The teacher sighs. "There was a disagreement between the children. Some of the kids… well, they were saying that Liam has no father. Another child defended him, but it escalated into a physical altercation." My breath catches. Liam. They bullied him again. I inhale sharply, trying to control the sharp sting in my chest. "Who defended him?" A pause. "Bryan." I blink, stunned. Bryan? Lorenzo’s son? That… that doesn’t make sense. Bryan had always been distant towards Liam, not outright cruel, but he never stood up for him either. So why now? I shake off the confusion, focusing on what’s important. "Is Liam hurt?" "No, but we need to address this
Knoxx’s Point of ViewThe moment Dolly steps into my house, holding our daughter in her arms, I feel nothing.Absolutely nothing.I stand there, watching as she moves past me with her usual bright, expectant smile, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor like she already owns the place. She looks around, her eyes lighting up, as if she’s envisioning the future she’s always wanted—the future she thinks she’s about to have.I should feel something.Satisfaction, maybe.Relief, even.But instead, there’s only this dull, suffocating weight in my chest, this gnawing emptiness that refuses to go away no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise.This was supposed to make me feel better.I brought them here for a reason.To prove a point.To show Caroline that I didn’t need her. That I moved on. That I had a family now, a woman who stayed by my side instead of walking away.But the moment I saw her face twist with that cold, indifferent expression, the moment she looked