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 ViewThe stack of divorce papers stares at me from across the room. Every time I look at it, I feel the weight pressing down on my chest. It should be simple. Just sign my name, walk away, and finally free myself from the mess of being Mrs. Wayne. I’ve already made up my mind not to take a single penny from Knoxx or his family—not that I want anything from them.But it isn’t that simple.I’ve been telling myself for weeks that I’m ready to move on. That I deserve better. That I’ve had enough of Knoxx’s lies, his betrayals, and the toxic web his family has spun around me. And yet, here I am, frozen in place, unable to sign those damn papers.Knoxx sits on the opposite side of the room, his face unreadable as he scrolls through his phone. He’s been like this since I brought up the divorce—calm, detached, and frustratingly silent. It’s like he’s waiting for me to make the first move, to give up and walk away without forcing him to face any consequences.I glance at th
Caroline’s Point of View“If you’re so desperate to end thismarriage,” Knoxx says, his voice steady but with a faint edge of challenge,“then sell the beach house.”The words hit me like a slap. I freeze,feeling my chest tighten with something I can’t quite describe—anger,frustration, and an ache that cuts deep. Sell the beach house? The very thoughtof it feels like a betrayal to everything we once were. That house wasn’t justa place; it was where I had believed, even for a brief moment, that we could behappy.But now, standing here, I know that Knoxxdoesn’t understand what it means to me. But I can’t just walk away from it. Ican’t make it that easy.I swallow hard, my fingers gripping theedge of the table as I force myself to look at him. “I’m not selling it,” Isay, my voice quieter than I mean it to be. But I stand by it. That house isthe last piece of something real, something I’m not ready to give up.Knoxx’s expression shifts just slightly,amusement flickering in his
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe morning sunlight filters through thecar window as we approach the beach house. My chest tightens with anticipation,the waves of nostalgia already lapping at my thoughts. This house held so many memories—momentsI had carefully buried but now seem intent on resurfacing.As Knoxx parks the car, I take in thefamiliar sight of the house. Its pale blue shutters and wraparound porch lookjust as they did when we first arrived here after our wedding. The salty breezecarries the faint cries of seagulls, and the rhythmic sound of the wavescrashing against the shore fills the silence between us.Knoxx steps out of the car and moves to thetrunk to retrieve our bags. I stay seated for a moment, letting the memorieswash over me. Our honeymoon. I thought it would be the start of everythingperfect between us. Back then, I believed this house symbolized a dream—apromise of the life we would build together.“Caroline,” Knoxx calls gently, pulling meout of my thou
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe morning sunlight streams through thelarge windows of the beach house, painting the room in warm gold. I’m sittingon the edge of the bed, the soft breeze from the ocean brushing against myskin. Knoxx stands across from me, his gaze intent. There’s a vulnerability inhis eyes that I haven’t seen before, and it disarms me just enough to let himspeak.“Caroline,” he begins, his voice steady butfilled with an undertone of desperation. “Before we go any further, I need toask for something… something I know I don’t deserve.”I cross my arms, my guard firmly in placedespite the lingering warmth of our shared memories from the day before. “Whatis it, Knoxx?”He exhales deeply, running a hand throughhis hair. “One last chance.”I blink, stunned. “What?”He steps closer, closing the distancebetween us, but I don’t move. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat like awarning bell.“I know I’ve made mistakes—more than I cancount,” he says, his voice softening
Caroline’s Point of ViewMy husband’s first love ruins our third year anniversary.I’m sitting by the window of a fancy restaurant, nervously waiting for Knoxx, my husband. I dress up in my favorite black dress. It’s been three years of marriage—three years of hoping, waiting for the man I love to finally see me, to finally understand that I’m more than just a wife of convenience. That it is not all about the arranged marriage.I fiddle with the napkin in my lap, glancing at the clock, watching as each minute crawls by. Any moment now, Knoxx will walk through the door.Tonight feels different. Tonight, I feel like something is going to change.I had seen the headlines earlier this week:[Wayne Corp Heir Spends Fortune on Rare Ruby Necklace—A Gift for Someone Special!]"Someone special." Those two words have been ringing in my head ever since I read them. Who is more important to him than me, his wife?After all the distance between us, the missed anniversaries, the cold silences… perha
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe morning sunlight streams through thelarge windows of the beach house, painting the room in warm gold. I’m sittingon the edge of the bed, the soft breeze from the ocean brushing against myskin. Knoxx stands across from me, his gaze intent. There’s a vulnerability inhis eyes that I haven’t seen before, and it disarms me just enough to let himspeak.“Caroline,” he begins, his voice steady butfilled with an undertone of desperation. “Before we go any further, I need toask for something… something I know I don’t deserve.”I cross my arms, my guard firmly in placedespite the lingering warmth of our shared memories from the day before. “Whatis it, Knoxx?”He exhales deeply, running a hand throughhis hair. “One last chance.”I blink, stunned. “What?”He steps closer, closing the distancebetween us, but I don’t move. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat like awarning bell.“I know I’ve made mistakes—more than I cancount,” he says, his voice softening
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe morning sunlight filters through thecar window as we approach the beach house. My chest tightens with anticipation,the waves of nostalgia already lapping at my thoughts. This house held so many memories—momentsI had carefully buried but now seem intent on resurfacing.As Knoxx parks the car, I take in thefamiliar sight of the house. Its pale blue shutters and wraparound porch lookjust as they did when we first arrived here after our wedding. The salty breezecarries the faint cries of seagulls, and the rhythmic sound of the wavescrashing against the shore fills the silence between us.Knoxx steps out of the car and moves to thetrunk to retrieve our bags. I stay seated for a moment, letting the memorieswash over me. Our honeymoon. I thought it would be the start of everythingperfect between us. Back then, I believed this house symbolized a dream—apromise of the life we would build together.“Caroline,” Knoxx calls gently, pulling meout of my thou
Caroline’s Point of View“If you’re so desperate to end thismarriage,” Knoxx says, his voice steady but with a faint edge of challenge,“then sell the beach house.”The words hit me like a slap. I freeze,feeling my chest tighten with something I can’t quite describe—anger,frustration, and an ache that cuts deep. Sell the beach house? The very thoughtof it feels like a betrayal to everything we once were. That house wasn’t justa place; it was where I had believed, even for a brief moment, that we could behappy.But now, standing here, I know that Knoxxdoesn’t understand what it means to me. But I can’t just walk away from it. Ican’t make it that easy.I swallow hard, my fingers gripping theedge of the table as I force myself to look at him. “I’m not selling it,” Isay, my voice quieter than I mean it to be. But I stand by it. That house isthe last piece of something real, something I’m not ready to give up.Knoxx’s expression shifts just slightly,amusement flickering in his
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe stack of divorce papers stares at me from across the room. Every time I look at it, I feel the weight pressing down on my chest. It should be simple. Just sign my name, walk away, and finally free myself from the mess of being Mrs. Wayne. I’ve already made up my mind not to take a single penny from Knoxx or his family—not that I want anything from them.But it isn’t that simple.I’ve been telling myself for weeks that I’m ready to move on. That I deserve better. That I’ve had enough of Knoxx’s lies, his betrayals, and the toxic web his family has spun around me. And yet, here I am, frozen in place, unable to sign those damn papers.Knoxx sits on the opposite side of the room, his face unreadable as he scrolls through his phone. He’s been like this since I brought up the divorce—calm, detached, and frustratingly silent. It’s like he’s waiting for me to make the first move, to give up and walk away without forcing him to face any consequences.I glance at th
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 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
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 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
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