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.
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 ViewI stare at the divorce papers on the kitchen counter, the crisp white pages mocking me with their emptiness. Weeks have passed, and Knoxx hasn’t signed them yet. I know he’s avoiding it, but I can’t help but feel trapped, like I’m stuck in this limbo, waiting for something that will never come. I can’t keep pretending like things are fine. We’re done.My phone buzzes on the counter, dragging me out of my thoughts. I glance at the screen and feel a surge of irritation. Dolly. She just can’t leave me alone, can she? She’s always been impatient, wanting things her way right when she demands them.With a sigh, I pick up the call, bracing myself for what’s about to come.“Caroline,” Dolly’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and impatient. “What’s taking so long? Why haven’t you gotten divorced yet?”I blink, taken aback by her bluntness. No greeting, no small talk, just straight to her demands. Of course. She always gets right to it, like I owe her something.“G
Caroline Point of ViewThe next day, I arrive at my shop early,expecting another day of long hours of cleaning up and fixing the mess of theday before. But when I emerge onto the sidewalk, I am stopped. The walls thathad been defaced with vulgar graffiti just yesterday are spotless. The crudewords spray-painted across my store’s sign are gone, as if they were neverthere. Even the sidewalk, which had been littered with trash, looks freshlycleaned.I blink, confused. Did the city workersclean it up? No, that wouldn’t make sense. There’s no way they’d work that fastfor a single shop.Then, I hear it.“Miss Hill, we are truly sorry!”I turn sharply toward the voice and see thesame group of men from yesterday—the ones who had demanded a protection fee.The same gangsters who had laughed when I told them I wasn’t paying them asingle cent. But now, instead of smug arrogance, they look… terrified.One of them, a burly man with a scarrunning down his cheek, actually bows. “We had no
Caroline’s Point of ViewI take a step back and look over the shop,pride swelling to the surface of my chest. The glass display cases, recentlyinstalled, shine with gentle light, and walls boast decorations of equally goodtaste carefully selected to enhance the classy image I had envisioned. My ownjewelry studio at last appears to be coming together. It has not been easy andI know there is more to come, but seeing it all begin to come together fills mewith hope.Tomorrow, I will have a soft opening, alow-key announcement to inform people that my brand is here. I don't want a biglaunch—just a steady, solid beginning. My work will speak for itself, and Ibelieve in it enough to know it will.But my happiness does not last long.The instant the front door is flung open, arough looking of men enter. There are three of them—tough-looking,leathery-clad, and with the odor of smoke about them. There is one, the tallestone, with a scar down the left side of his cheek. He advances fo
Dolly’sPoint of ViewIscroll through my phone, tapping my fingers on the screen as I read theannouncement for the jewelry design competition in Italy. A sneer forms on mylips. This company? I've never regarded them highly. They boast about theirtradition and craftsmanship, but they don't stand out to me. Yet, thecompetition is reputable, and the media attention is extensive. It’s the sortof opportunity that could transform someone’s life.Notthat I need them to change mine. I’m already the best. But I need leverage. Ineed a reason for Knoxx to finally take the next step.I turnmy head slightly, stealing a glance at him from across the room. He’s sprawledon the couch, his arm draped casually over the back as he watches my daughterplay with one of her toys. This moment should fill me with warmth, but instead,I feel a surge of frustration.It’sbeen years. Years since Caroline left. Years since I came back. And yet, hestill refuses to marry me. Still refuses to make ‘our’ f
Caroline’sPoint of ViewStaringat the laptop, I sit at my desk; the official announcement of the comingjewelry design contest in Italy blinks in front of me. My fingers hover aboutthe keyboard as I read the details for the tenth time.One ofthe most prestigious competitions in the industry, conducted globally by one ofthe oldest and most well-respected jewelry houses, the grand prize ismembership with them. But that is not why I am interested—more so with therecognition, not a position there. My new studio is just starting to find itsfeet, and to win or even just leave a mark in this competition might meangetting my break.Myheart starts racing as I almost lose my breath. Part of me is eager; that's thedrive to be able to prove myself. Another part lingers-a part that remembersthe hurt of last times.Welteringmemories, both unwelcome and painful, down into my mind-I remember back to whenI was last involved in such a competition. The anticipation and all that joylightin
Caroline’s Point of ViewI step into my home, feeling the warm comfort wraparound me like a warm blanket. Vanilla and the scent of something sweet bakingin the oven fill the air. It makes me feel welcome, relaxing me and comfortingme like I'm at home. It's the kind of warmth I imagined a family wouldhave, this feeling of being at home and comforted that overcomes me. I drop mybag on the floor and take a moment to soak it all in. In a flash, a tiny shaperuns towards me, breaking my moment of tranquility."Mommy! You're home!" My son launcheshimself into my arms, wrapping them around me. I wrap mine around him,breathing in his scent, feeling the strong beat of his little heart againstmine."I'm home, sweetheart," I whisper,leaving a kiss on the crown of his head.He looks at me, his eyes shining. "Daddy'smaking my birthday cake! It'll be out soon. He'll be out in a minute!"Wait!Daddy?I freeze. The warmth in my chest stutters for abrief second.I glance around. The house
Caroline’s Point of ViewI am paralyzed with shock. My breath getsstuck somewhere in the throat and my heart pounds in my chest. This isoverwhelming. I'm not sure what to say or think as thereality of his words sinks in.What?Before I can even process his words, theworld around me blurs, and everything else fades into the background.He said what?I stare at Adrian, my heart pounding, my brainstruggling to process his words."You… what?" I manage to say, my voicetrembling and soft. Did I really hear him correctly? Did he genuinely just tellthe kindergarten that we were engaged? He leans back against the bench, licking his icecream as if he hasn't just dropped a bomb on me and, after a moment, smirks."Relax, I am just kidding."I blink, completely caught off guard."What?" I ask, trying to grasp what just happened. He laughs, obviously getting a kick out of myreaction. "I didn't say we were engaged. I just made a small donation tohelp them build a new playground. They ag
Caroline’s Point of ViewI still feel anxious after leaving thekindergarten. Even when I try to ignore it, it sticks in my mind. The best ofeverything should be offered to my son, and I feel that I failed him today.When we walked out, I still remember the look on his little face. It was atthat point his expression changed, his shoulders drooping like they were heavy.Despite being so young, he had to deal with rejection for something he didn'tdo wrong.That burden falls on me alone.I take a sharp breath and shake my head,trying to dispel the thoughts that haunt me. But they cling on, refusing to letgo.Adrian notices, of course. He always picksup on when something is bothering me. Whenever I am bothered by something, heis the first to pick up on it. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he watchesme poke cold food on my plate. "Caroline," he says, his voice amixture of softness and concern. “Stop overthinking.”I look up, surprised by his insight. “I’mnot—”“You are,” he g
Caroline’s Point of ViewI sit in the principal’s office and clutchthe edge of my chair and listen to her polite but firm refusal. Her expressionis neutral, professional; but I catch the judgement hiding in her meticulouslychosen words.“We thank you for your interest, Miss Hill,” she says with atight-lipped smile. "However, we have very limited spots available, and weprioritize students who come from stable backgrounds. That is morebeneficial for children than providing a quote-unquote stable or consistentenvironment."I stiffen. "My son has a supportiveand consistent environment," I say, keeping my voice calm even though mystomach twists. The principal folds her hands on the deskand nods, though her smile doesn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sure you do your best,but there are some challenges as a single mother that you may not anticipate.We have a very rigorous academic structure here, and we’ve noticed that children from two-parenthouseholds do really well in this kind of env
Caroline’s Point of ViewSilence fills the car, thick and heavy like a blanket. My son's question keeps replaying in my mind, over and over, making it hard to think of anything else.“If Uncle Adrian is not my daddy… then who is?”My breath catches. I feel Adrian still beside me, his hands frozen on the steering wheel.I turn to face my son, but no words come out. My heart pounds as I try to find an answer—one that won’t hurt him. And for the first time in a long time, I realize I don’t know what to say.I never thought he would ask this. I wasn’t ready for it. I had hoped he wouldn’t wonder about it, especially not now when things seemed so steady. I thought he was already seeing Adrian as his father. I thought he wouldn’t even ask about the man who should be here but isn’t. I tried to shield him from this difficult truth. Clearly, I was wrong.I take a deep breath, feeling shaky. I turn to look at him. His big, innocent eyes are focused on me, filled with curiosity and expectation