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 ViewI 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 qui
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 stands in the doorway, his sharp gaze sweeping over Knoxx and thensettling on me. His sudden appearance feels like a lifeline and a complicationall at once. His unexpected appearance throws me off. I blink in surprise,unsure of how to react.Knoxx, however, doesn’t waste a moment before hislips curl into a cold, mocking smile. “Well, well,” Knoxx says, his voice thick with disdain. “It wasn’t enough foryou to marry me, Caroline. Now you’ve moved on to seducing my stepbrother? Howmany men are you juggling these days?” I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, a mix of anger and humiliation surgingthrough 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,” Adrian says, his voice cutting and unwavering. “Noteveryone is like your mother. Remember how she climbed into my father’s bed andschemed her way into becoming Mrs. Wayne?” I blink in surprise. Completely shoc
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