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, my voice thick with disgust. I toss the box into the trash bin near the door, the thud sounding heavier than it should.
Penelope arches an eyebrow but doesn’t press. She knows me too well to ask questions I’m not ready to answer. Instead, she gestures to her car, throwing me a wink. “Come on. Let’s forget about that bastard for a while.”
We drive in silence, the city lights passing by like streaks of color, a blur that reflects my racing thoughts. Each neon sign and glimmering window feels like a fleeting moment, a reminder of the life I once thought I had under control.
Penelope and I pull up to our usual escape—my VIP suite at Hermes. As the car doors swing open, the familiar smell of leather and perfume greets us, wrapping around me like a luxurious embrace. It almost feels like stepping into another world—a world where everything is perfect, untouched by the chaos of my life.
Penelope hands me a glass of champagne, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Retail therapy, babe. The only cure for a broken heart.”
I manage a smile, but it’s thin, hollow. This place, with its rich fabrics and heavy price tags, used to offer me comfort. I’d walk through the beautifully curated displays, my heart swelling at the thought of indulging in a new piece of exquisite jewelry or a designer handbag. The way the staff treats me like royalty once felt empowering.
Penelope twirls in front of a mirror, the silk dress she’s wearing hugging her figure like a second skin. She beams, her joy infectious. “This is the life, Caroline. You, here, surrounded by all this luxury—this is who you are. Why are you hiding it from Knoxx?”
Her words catch me off guard, and I stop mid-sip, the bubbly drink suddenly feeling heavy in my hand. I set the glass down, brushing my fingers over a crocodile-skin bag that I don’t even want. “I’m not hiding anything,” I reply quietly, though the conviction in my voice wavers. “He just doesn’t care enough to see it.”
Penelope’s carefree expression fades, replaced by a look of genuine concern. She sits beside me, her warmth radiating as she searches my face for answers. “Why do you stay with him? Why are you putting yourself through this?”
I stare into my glass, watching the bubbles dance as memories flood my mind. I remember how cold Knoxx’s eyes were tonight, how he looked at me like I was nothing more than an inconvenience. “Three years, Penelope. Three years of trying to make it work, and he still doesn’t love me. He doesn’t even see me. I’ve given him everything, and all he does is push me away.”
Penelope leans closer, her voice softening. “You deserve so much more than this, Caroline. You’re a powerful woman—this place is proof of that. Why let him dim your light?”
Her encouragement stirs something within me, but I’m still trapped in a web of doubt. I take a deep breath. “I thought he would change. I thought love could make him see me.”
Penelope shakes her head, her eyes fierce. “Love shouldn’t be a battle. You shouldn’t have to fight for someone to recognize your worth.”
I nod, but the knot in my stomach tightens. The shadows of my reality loom large, even amid this opulence. I let out a shaky breath, trying to hold it together. “He accused me of cheating. Of all things, cheating.”
Penelope’s mouth falls open. “You? With who?”
“He saw some photos of me having dinner… with my dad,” I say, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. “He didn’t ask. He just... assumed. Thought I was with some other man. A silver-haired man, no less. It’s ridiculous.”
Penelope clenches her fists, anger flashing in her eyes. “He’s out of his mind. How can he not see how devoted you’ve been? How much you’ve sacrificed?”
“And to make it worse... Dolly’s back,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “She’s always been in the background, but now she’s... she’s here. Again.”
Penelope’s face darkens. “That conniving bitch. She’s never really left, has she? Always lurking, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.” She pauses, then looks at me, her voice softening. “Why are you still holding on to him, Caroline? He doesn’t deserve you.”
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Before I can find the words, my phone buzzes on the table, pulling my attention. My heart sinks as I glance at the screen.
It’s from Dolly.
My chest tightens as I unlock the phone, dread pooling in my stomach. The message feels like a punch to the gut. For a second, everything stops. My hand shakes as I stare at the text, my mind struggling to make sense of the words.
[I’m pregnant with Knoxx’s child. We need to talk.]— Dolly.
Penelope’s Point of ViewThe apartment smells like garlic, butter, and something faintly citrusy—probably from the wine Lorenzo poured into the pan earlier. I’m standing at the stove, stirring pasta like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be doing after a long day at our company. But it’s not the food that keeps making my chest flutter.It’s him.Lorenzo leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching me like he’s memorizing the way I move. He’s already finished chopping the basil, and now he’s just there—quiet, observant, and far too calm for someone who looks like that in a fitted black shirt.I break the silence first. “You always this quiet when you cook with someone?”He smirks. “Only when someone’s threatening to burn the garlic.”I glance down at the pa
Knoxx’s Point of ViewI stare through the reinforced glass, jaw clenched so tightly it aches.Dolly sits across from me on the other side of the metal table, wearing that standard-issue orange like it belongs on her. She looks smaller than I remember—shoulders hunched, lips dry, dark circles beneath her eyes. She barely lifts her head when the guard closes the door behind me with a heavy clank.“I wasn’t expecting you,” she mumbles, eyes avoiding mine.I lean forward, arms braced on the table. “No? You should’ve. You owe me answers.”Her head finally lifts, and there’s something in her face—guilt, maybe, or shame. I don’t care anymore.“I don’t have much time,” I snap. “So don’t start with games. I dug into your past.”She tenses.
Caroline's Point of ViewI sit on the edge of my bed, my knees pulled up to my chest, arms wrapped around them like they’re the only thing keeping me from falling apart. The morning light spills into the room, soft and golden, but it doesn’t touch the emptiness sitting inside me. My phone buzzes again—Adrian.[Good morning, my love. Don’t forget to eat.]I don’t reply. I can’t. My chest feels tight, like there's a weight pressing against it that won’t move no matter how deep I breathe. There’s something about the way he’s been lately—sweet, attentive, always present—that should make me feel secure. But it doesn’t.It scares me.I drag myself out of the house in the afternoon, slipping on a jacket and stuffing Liam’s old baby photo in my pocket. I don’t know why I bring it, maybe because I need to
Caroline's Point of ViewI never imagined a moment like this would feel so empty.Adrian stands before me, one knee to the ground, holding a velvet box that cradles a diamond ring so bright it catches every flicker of light in the room. Around us, soft claps echo. Familiar faces smile politely. Penelope. Lorenzo. A few close business associates. People who matter. People who don’t.My heart doesn’t beat faster. It doesn’t flutter. It just... thuds. Heavy.Adrian is smiling. His eyes are steady, confident, waiting for the answer he already knows I’ll give.“Caroline Hill,” he says. “Marry me.”It should be perfect. He planned everything—the candlelit rooftop, the champagne flutes already sweating on silver trays, the jazz trio playing something soft and romantic. He even made sure Liam was with my father tonight so we could have this "grown-up" evening.Everyone is watching. I can feel Penelope’s eyes on me, searching my face. Maybe she knows. Maybe she sees it too—the hesitation I’m t
Caroline's Point of ViewIt’s supposed to be a calm day.Just me and Liam. No work. No calls. No meetings.No Adrian.I wake up early, careful not to disturb anything in the house. Adrian left before sunrise for some meeting he said couldn’t wait. That left me with a window. A rare moment to breathe.He was here last night because he spent time with Liam since he wants to play with him.I glance over at Liam’s bed. He’s still curled up, messy-haired and hugging his stuffed lion like it’s the most important thing in the world.I smile and brush a hand through his hair.“Liam,” I whisper, leaning closer. “You still wanna go on that date with Mama today?”His eyes flutter open slowly, and the second the words sink in, he bolts upright.&nbs
Caroline's Point of ViewIt is strange how quiet the room feels even with eight people in it. The long conference table stretches out before me, papers neatly aligned, water glasses full, and everyone already seated.Except Adrian.For the first time in what feels like forever, I am attending a high-stakes internal partnership meeting at Hill International… alone.And I hate the thought that it brings me peace.I shouldn’t feel this way. Adrian is supportive. Always there. Always prepared. Always… present. But lately, too present.I sit up straighter in my seat as the first agenda is raised. One of the VPs across from me asks about the recent collaboration metrics from our international suppliers. I speak—confidently—and not once do I feel like I need to glance at someone else to speak on my behalf.That re