Adrian’s smile widens, a glint of smug satisfaction in his eyes. “You left her alone, Knoxx. Someone had to step up and be the manKnoxx’s Point of View
The tires screech slightly as I pull into the hospital parking lot, my grip on the steering wheel tighter than it needs to be. My chest feels heavy, and my thoughts are racing. Caroline’s face flashes in my mind—the disappointment, the hurt in her eyes when I told her I had to leave. I’ll make it up to her, I promise myself. But first, I need to handle Dolly.
I step out of the car, my suit jacket feeling heavier than it should. The fluorescent hospital lights seem to buzz louder than usual as I walk into the lobby, the sterile smell immediately assaulting my senses. I find Dolly in the maternity ward, lounging in a chair with her hand resting lightly on her stomach, looking perfectly calm. My irritation spikes.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice sharp.
Caroline's Point of ViewI can feel the gaze of Knoxx on me because we are positioned near the door frame. He looks at me attentively, preparing himself for a battle. Not now, though – I don't want to make things get worse.I turn to Knoxx and say softly, “There is nothing go on, Knoxx. Adrian just help me. And thank you, Adrian, for your time tonight. It was…unexpected but appreciated.”Adrian’s easy smile returns, but there’s a glimmer of something more serious in his eyes. “Anything for you, Caroline. Always.”Knoxx's jaw clenches. He doesn't say anything, though. His fists clench at his sides for a brief moment, the tension there is obvious. Adrian nods at both of us before turning to walk away to his car, the silence that remains almost deafening.I turn back to Knoxx, meeting his piercing gaze. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but then he catches something in my expression. Whatever he sees m
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe sound of Knoxx’s car pulling into the driveway pulls me away from my book. I glance at the clock—past midnight. My chest tightens, a mix of irritation and worry bubbling to the surface.When the door swings open, Knoxx’s assistant steps in first, his expression apologetic as he struggles to support Knoxx, who is visibly drunk.“Mrs. Wayne,” the assistant says hesitantly, his voice low. “He had a few too many drinks at the dinner party. I tried to stop him, but you know how he gets.”My gaze shifts to Knoxx. His tie is undone, his shirt untucked, and his normally sharp eyes are glazed over. He’s leaning heavily on the assistant, mumbling incoherently.“I’m fine,” Knoxx slurs, trying to push the assistant away but nearly stumbling over his own feet.Before I can respond, Dolly’s voice cuts through the air. “What’s going on?”She appears in the hallway, her eyes narrowing as she takes in Knoxx’s state. Her expression twists in disgust. “He’s drunk?”“Very,” I
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe morning sun filters through the sheer curtains, casting soft, golden streaks across the bedroom floor. But the warmth of the light does little to ease the cold emptiness beside me. The bed is unmade, Knoxx’s side rumpled but unoccupied. My heart sinks as the realization hits me—he’s gone. Again.I sit up slowly, the events of the previous night replaying in my mind. His whispered “I love you,” the way his hands held me as if I were the only thing anchoring him to this world. It felt real. It felt sincere. And now? Now it feels like a cruel joke.“Knoxx?” I call out, my voice barely above a whisper. The house is eerily quiet. No response.Wrapping my robe tightly around me, I step into the hallway. My bare feet make soft thuds against the wooden floor as I search each room. The living room, the kitchen, his office—all empty. Even his car is gone.A lump forms in my throat as I stand in the middle of the living room, staring at the door. He left without a wo
Knoxx’s Point of ViewA sharp ray of sunlight pierces through my eyelids, and I groan, turning away from the glare. My head pounds, the remnants of too much alcohol still sloshing in my system. I shift, but the soft sheets beneath me feel unfamiliar. Something doesn’t add up.Where the hell am I?The smell of faint perfume hits me, and my eyes snap open. My surroundings blur into focus: floral-patterned curtains, a dresser lined with delicate trinkets, and... the sight that makes my blood run cold—I’m in Dolly’s bed.Panic grips me like a vise. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. My mind scrambles to piece together last night. I remember coming home, drunk. I dreamed of her—her touch, her voice, the way she looked at me. I’m sure it’s Caroline… but now I’m here, and it doesn’t make sense.“Good morning,” a soft, saccharine voice purrs from the doorway.I wh
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe rhythmic click of my heels echoes against the marble pavement as I make my way toward the grand entrance of the 30 Under 30 dinner party venue. The glowing chandeliers spill light through the tall glass doors, illuminating the bustling street outside. The entire building exudes elegance and exclusivity, making me acutely aware of every second I’m late.I glance at my phone, its screen glaring at me with an unwelcome truth: 8:15 PM. Knoxx must already be inside. My stomach twists as I imagine him waiting, checking his watch, and wondering why I haven’t arrived yet.This isn’t how I planned tonight.The delay had been unavoidable. Lisa had insisted that I complete a design before leaving work. It wasn’t just the design; it was her tone—the unspoken expectation that only I could finish it properly. I wanted to be done sooner, but the hours had slipped through my fingers. Now, standing outside t
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe sharp click of my heels on the pavement matches the thundering of my heart. The chaos of the last few moments swirls around me like a storm. My eyes dart toward the voice that cuts through the crowd, and relief floods my chest as I see a familiar face—my father.“Dad?” My voice is unsteady, a mix of disbelief and gratitude.He steps forward, his tall figure imposing as always. His sharp suit and confident stride immediately command attention. “Caroline,” he says curtly, his gaze sweeping over me with a quick assessment. ”The receptionists, who moments ago were mocking me with sneers and biting words, suddenly straighten, their demeanor shifting as they recognize him. The smug expressions vanish, replaced by nervous smiles.“Mister Hill,” one of them stammers, her tone now saccharine sweet. “We didn’t realize she was with you. Please, go right in.”My father’s cold gaze lands on her, and she visibly shrinks under his scrutiny. He doesn’t bother to acknowled
Knoxx’s Point of ViewI’m standing near the center of the grand ballroom, a glass of champagne in my hand, barely listening to the conversation swirling around me. Dolly is beside me, her laughter high-pitched and artificial as she flirts shamelessly with some big-name businessmen, her arm looped possessively through mine. I force a polite smile, nodding at the right moments, but my mind is elsewhere.Then I see her.Caroline.She’s here.Her presence pulls my attention like a magnet. She’s radiant, even from across the room, the dim lighting catching on the soft waves of her hair and the elegant dress that hugs her frame. But my stomach twists when I notice who she’s with.Adrian.My stepbrother is leading her to the dance floor, his hand resting casually on the small of her back, his touch infuriatingly intimate. Caroline’s lips curve into a soft smile as he speaks to her, and something primal surges within me. I grip my glass tighter, the champagne threatening to spill over the rim.
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe ride home with Adrian is quiet, but not uncomfortable. The tension from the evening hangs in the air, and I can feel Adrian glancing at me occasionally, gauging my mood. My cheeks burn as I replay Knoxx’s outburst in my head. He’s reckless, emotional, and now, he’s made me the center of gossip in a room full of powerful people. I’m embarrassed, furious even, but the overwhelming feeling is guilt—guilt that Adrian had to endure the brunt of Knoxx’s actions.“I’m sorry,” I murmur, breaking the silence. My voice feels small, but I need to say it.Adrian glances at me, his expression softening. “Why are you apologizing?”“Because none of this would have happened if I hadn’t…” I trail off, unsure how to phrase it without sounding ridiculous. “If I hadn’t danced with you.”He lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his
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