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
Knoxx’s Point of ViewDolly sits across from me in my office, her eyes flaring with the same entitled look she always wears, the one that grates on my nerves. She’s been talking non-stop for the past ten minutes, her voice a constant stream of complaints, but I’ve barely heard a word. My mind is elsewhere—on other things, far more important than whatever crisis she’s manufacturing now.“Knoxx, are you even listening to me?” Her voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp and demanding.I glance up at her, forcing myself to focus. “What do you want, Dolly?”She narrows her eyes at me, clearly annoyed I even need to ask. “I’m talking about Caroline. She’s suing me for plagiarism. Can you believe that? After everything I’ve done!”Her words make me pause. Last time, she claimed Caroline had stolen her designs. Now she’s telling me the opposite. A flicker of doubt surfaces, but I don’t voice it. Instead, I watch her closely. The desperation in her voice is obvious, but something about this feel
Caroline’s Point of ViewKnoxx strides into the office, and the hum of conversation comes to an abrupt halt. His presence alone commands attention, and the energy in the room shifts as if everyone can feel it. Eyes dart toward me, wide with surprise, then back to him. It's not every day the King himself walks into my space unannounced, especially when we’ve been avoiding each other for weeks. My coworkers exchange nervous glances, whispering under their breaths, clearly unsettled by his sudden appearance.I sit up straighter, determined to keep my expression neutral, even as I feel a prickle of anxiety creep up my spine. My pulse quickens, and I grip the edge of my desk just a little tighter. This is the last thing I need right now—another confrontation with Knoxx. Especially here, where everyone’s watching.Knoxx doesn’t bother acknowledging the stares or the whispers. His sharp, focused gaze is locked on me, and with every step he takes, the air seems to thicken. His broad shoulders
Caroline’s Point of ViewKnoxx stands up straight, rubbing the back of his neck. “Caroline, I need some time to think about this.”I nod, crossing my arms. “I understand. You can take until the final round of the competition. But I want you to be clear about what I’m asking.”“Right. I get it.” He looks away, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “It’s a lot to process. I’ll think about it. Just give me some time.”“Time is all I can give you.” I take a deep breath, then step up. “I’ll leave you to it.”With that, I step out of his office, leaving him alone with his thoughts.When I get home, I check my phone out of habit. Almost immediately, I see it—the flood of notifications from social media, articles, and comments. My heart sinks as I notice Dolly’s name is trending again. Curious, I click on one of the links to see what the latest fuss is about.There it is—a flashy PR release with Dolly front and center, glowing in front of the cameras like she owns the spotlight. The headline scr
Caroline’s Point of ViewWhen I see Lisa standing at my office door, her face is flushed with guilt and worry. She’s clutching her phone tightly in her hand, eyes darting around like she’s looking for the right words to say.“Caroline,” she begins, her voice shaky. “I saw the PR release.”I already know what she’s talking about. The flashy article showcasing Dolly as the "most beautiful and talented jewelry designer." The way they paint her as some kind of creative genius, a rising star in the industry. And the photos—Dolly front and center, wearing the ruby necklace that Knoxx had auctioned for me.Lisa steps inside, her eyes filled with guilt. “I—I went to Dolly,” she stammers. “I tried to get your design back. I couldn’t just stand by and let her take credit for your work.” Her hands are trembling now. “But she fired me, Caroline. She threw me out without even listening.”For a moment, I can’t speak. My chest tightens with anger, but not at Lisa. No, my frustration is entirely rese
Dolly’s Point of ViewI sit back in my chair, scrolling through the comments on my latest PR post, feeling a rush of satisfaction. They’re calling me “the most beautiful and talented jewelry designer,” “the perfect match” for Knoxx. I see comment after comment about how Knoxx and I look great together, how we make such a powerful couple. I smile to myself, imagining how perfect my life will be once all of this falls into place. Each comment strokes my ego, making me feel like I’m exactly where I deserve to be.I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, replaying the last few months in my mind. Everything has been leading up to this moment. But it wasn’t always like this. There was a time when I almost lost it all.I had Knoxx wrapped around my finger, but back then, it wasn’t enough. I craved more. More money, more prestige. Knoxx was successful, yes, but there was another man. I met an old, rich, charming, powerful man—he had promised me the world. So, I left everything behind to be
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