Caroline’s Point of View
I sit there, frozen, still reeling from the words that left Knoxx’s mouth just moments ago.
“Didn’t you marry me for the money?”
The question loops in my mind like a broken record, leaving behind a sting I can’t shake. Did Knoxx always think that? That I only wanted his wealth? That I had trapped him in this marriage? The weight of the accusation presses down on me, suffocating in its cruelty.
"Is that really what you believe?" I ask quietly, my voice barely audible as I look at him. "That I married you for the money? That I forced you into this?"
Knoxx's expression is unreadable, the same cold mask he always wears, but there's a flicker in his eyes—something dark, something cruel. He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he picks up my half-finished glass of wine from the table and takes a slow sip. The silence stretches between us, heavy and unbearable.
“You don’t love me,” he finally says, setting the empty glass down with a soft clink that echoes in the quiet room. His voice is calm, detached, like he's stating a fact instead of accusing me of something so vile. “I already know that you cheated on me with other men.”
I blink, confused and hurt. Cheated? On him? My heart races, and I search his face, desperately trying to understand. "Cheated on you?" I whisper, incredulous. "Knoxx, what are you talking about? How could I ever—"
Before I can finish my sentence, Knoxx pulls out a stack of photographs from his suit. He looks down at them, his expression hardening further, and then, without warning, he throws them at me. The photos scatter through the air, like a shower, falling like broken pieces of our marriage, landing around me in a chaotic way.
I kneel down, my hands trembling as I pick up one of the photographs. It’s me, having dinner with an older man—a man with silver hair, a sharp jawline, and a distinguished air about him. The next photo shows the same man leaning in to kiss my cheek.
My stomach drops. That’s Logan. My father.
I stare at the photos, angry and amused all at once. How could Knoxx not know who Logan is? How could he think that I would ever cheat on him, especially with my own father?
I let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Knoxx, you’ve got this all wrong,” I say, trying to explain. “That man... I wasn’t cheating on you. I would never do that. That man is my—”
Nonetheless, he cuts me off before I can finish, his voice sharp and dismissive. “We both know what this marriage really is, Caroline. Nothing more than an arrangement,” he sneers, bitterness dripping from every word. “An agreement made by my grandfather. You don’t need to pretend to be the loving wife anymore.”
My chest tightens with the unfairness of it all. The way he reduces our entire relationship to nothing but a cold business deal, a contract neither of us had a say in. It was never supposed to be like this.
“You don't need to play the loving wife in front of me now.” Knoxx picks up one of the photos, the one where Logan kisses my cheek, and waves it in front of me like it’s evidence of my betrayal. His eyes narrow, cold and calculating. “Now I know what you really prefer. Men a bit more... mature, don’t you?”
I want to scream, to throw something at him, to make him see how ridiculous and hurtful he’s being. “How can you say that,” I say, my voice shaking with frustration. “Logan Hill. You know him. How could you not—”
But before I can finish, Knoxx’s phone rings, slicing through the tension between us. He glances at the screen, and his expression softens in a way I haven’t seen in a long time.
The name flashing on the screen? Should I still need to confirm it is Dolly?
Of course. It’s always Dolly.
Knoxx declines the call, his eyes flicking back to me, but his mind is already elsewhere. He stands up and grabs his car keys off the table.
“I’m going to see Dolly,” he says flatly, already halfway out the door.
I stand up too, my body trembling with disbelief. “Knoxx, it’s our anniversary. Dolly? Really? You’re leaving to see her?”
He pauses at the door, his back to me. The silence that follows is deafening.
I feel the anger boiling up inside me, and before I can stop myself, I shout, “Do you still have feelings for her? Is that it?”
His hand tightens on the doorknob, but he doesn’t turn around. “She needs me right now,” he says simply.
I take a step closer, my voice rising, desperation creeping into my tone. “And I don’t? I need you too, Knoxx. Today is our third anniversary.”
For a moment, I think he might turn back, that he might say something to make all of this less painful. But he doesn’t. He leaves in silence, closing the door behind him without another word.
The echo of the door shutting feels like the final blow. Like the definitive end of whatever hope I had left in this marriage. My hands are still shaking, my heart racing as I stare at the empty space where Knoxx had stood just moments ago.
I look down at the check he left on the table—a million dollars, as if money could fix everything. As if that’s all I ever wanted.
“Fuck this,” I mutter under my breath. I grab the check and tear it in half, then again, and again until the pieces are nothing but confetti scattered across the floor.
I won’t be bought. Not this time. Not ever.
I march to my closet, pulling out the sexiest dress I own—a black, figure-hugging number that leaves little to the imagination. If Knoxx thinks I’m some gold-digging, cheating wife, then fine. Let him think that.
I grab my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find the number I haven’t dialed in years. My fingers hover over the screen for a moment, hesitating, but then I press send.
A single text message.
“I need someone to help me forget my husband tonight. You coming?”
Caroline’s Point of View“Girl, let me take you somewhere nice,” Penelope, my best friend, says, her voice wrapping around me like a warm hug. She’s leaning against her sleek new sports car, a knowing smile playing on her lips, as if she can see through the mask I’m trying so hard to keep up.I step out of the house, trying to leave the weight of everything behind me, but the hurt sticks. Penelope’s eyes catch on something near the front lawn, and she bends down to pick it up.“What’s this?” she asks, curiosity lacing her voice as she holds up a delicate black box, gold lettering gleaming in the fading evening light.My stomach churns. I know exactly what that box is. The jewelry box—the same kind Knoxx used when he bought Dolly that ruby necklace at the auction. I take it from Penelope, my hands shaking as I pop it open. Inside are two diamond earrings, beautiful but cold. They shine, but not for me.I snap the box shut, my chest tightening.“They were probably for Dolly,” I mutter, m
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe air feels thick as I approach the café. My hands tremble slightly, though I force them to remain at my sides, steady. I’ve run this moment over in my head so many times, imagining the words I’d say, how I’d keep my composure, but now that it’s real, there’s an uncomfortable tightness in my chest. I push open the door, the chime overhead ringing lightly, a sharp contrast to the heaviness I feel inside.Dolly is already there, seated in a corner, legs crossed, looking like she stepped straight out of a magazine. Her hair is perfect, her makeup flawless, and her lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.“Caroline,” she says, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness, like we’re old friends. “You’re right on time. Why don’t you sit? We have a lot to discuss.”I don’t bother with pleasantries, cutting right to the point. “You’re back, and I want to know why. What are you planning?”She leans back, her smirk growing. “Oh, Caroline,” she sighs, like
Caroline’s Point of ViewAfter that confrontation with Knoxx, I don’t go home. I drive to my childhood estate, the house looming larger than I remember. It sits cold and imposing, framed by perfectly manicured gardens and tall hedges. The driveway stretches ahead of me, lined with palm trees that stand stiffly, like silent sentinels.As I step inside, the chill in the air bites immediately. No laughter, no warmth—just the grand, empty space filled with imposing furniture and unyielding silence. It’s the home of a businessman, a place as reserved as the man who owns it.“Ah, the prodigal daughter returns,” a voice calls from the living room.I follow the sound and find my father seated in his usual spot: a luxurious leather armchair by the fireplace, sipping his tea. His gaze, cold and discerning, doesn’t soften as he looks at me, though a trace of surprise flits across his features.“So,” he says, his voice laced with a blend of sarcasm and faint satisfaction, “the man finally abandone
Caroline’s Point of ViewFor the first time in my marriage, I don’t go home. I can’t. Instead, I find myself in my childhood bedroom, curled up in the familiar but almost stifling atmosphere of my father’s mansion. I try to process everything he said to me when I arrived. The warmth I had once imagined in this place doesn’t exist. He was right in a way I didn’t want to admit; I don’t deserve to be treated like this, but his reminders sting rather than comfort me."You’re the heir of this family," he had said sharply, his voice more cutting than compassionate. "Stop hiding from the world. You were a fool to think that man would ever see your worth.”It’s a familiar kind of pain, this undercurrent of disappointment. His version of love has always felt conditional, tied to expectations I’ve never fully met. Part of me knew coming here would reopen these old wounds, but somehow, it’s grounding. His disappointment is something I’ve grown used to, and it reminds me of why I married Knoxx in
Caroline’s Point of ViewAs I step into my room, my stomach tightens at the sight before me—my suitcases, their contents strewn across the ground. Clothes spill out haphazardly, a few scattered personal items lying in plain view, as though my life here is being rummaged through and dissected.Our maid has been going through my things in a rush, as if looking for something. And in the corner of my bed, I see Karen, Knoxx’s mother, with cross arms.“What are you doing?!” I ask angrily while I start to gather my things and put them in my suitcase.Karen’s sharp eyes narrow as they settle on me, her lips curling with that same disdain I’ve grown accustomed to. Without a word, she strides up and yanks my suitcase from my hand, her grip unyielding. “I need to check if you’ve taken anything that doesn’t belong to you,” she says, each word heavy with contempt, as though she expects to find priceless jewels tucked away in my clothes.I blink, momentarily stunned. “There’s nothing in this house
Caroline’s Point of ViewAdrian?I turn and see Adrian standing in the doorway, his face unreadable but his presence a silent challenge. There’s a determination in his eyes, a calm strength that speaks louder than words.Adrian’s sharp gaze sweeping over Knoxx and then settling on me. His sudden appearance feels like a lifeline and a complication all at once.His unexpected appearance throws me off. I blink in surprise, unsure of how to react. Do they know each other?Knoxx, however, doesn’t waste a moment before his lips curl into a cold, mocking smile. “Well, well,” Knoxx says, his voice thick with disdain. “It wasn’t enough for you to marry me, Caroline. Now you’ve moved on to seducing my stepbrother? How many men are you juggling these days?” I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, a mix of anger and humiliation surging through me. Before I can even find the words to reply, Adrian steps forward, his jaw set and his eyes burning with fury. “Don’t slander Caroline,” Adri
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 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