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’s Point of ViewThe bar smells of spilled alcohol, and the dim neon lights flicker overhead, casting a muted glow on Knoxx’s slouched figure. The space is quiet enough that I can hear the soft hum of the music, a sound that seems to hang in the air and contrast sharply with the storm inside my chest. My heels click against the floor, my steps measured, as if I’m walking toward a confrontation I already know the outcome of. My heart is a twisted mess of confusion and anger, but I hold myself steady as I approach him.He lifts his head slowly, his eyes glassy and unfocused. For a moment, I wonder if he even recognizes me. His gaze lingers for a second longer than usual, and then he mutters, “Caroline.” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been calling for me long before I stepped into the bar. “You came.”I stop just a few steps away, crossing my arms tightly, instinctively shielding myself from whatever comes next. My mind is a whirlpool of emotions, and I don’t trust myself to say
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe morning light filters through the curtains, but it does nothing to lift the weight in my chest. I sit by the window, staring at my phone, willing it to ring. The house is silent, the kind of silence that makes every creak of anything sound louder than it should.Knoxx hasn’t called. Not once.I thought he might notice I wasn’t there when he woke up—or maybe when Dolly and his mother pointed it out. I thought he’d try to contact me, to say something. Apologize, fight, explain—anything. But the hours have stretched on, and my phone screen remains painfully blank.I drop the phone onto the table and rub my temples, trying to ease the tension that’s been building since last night. What am I doing? The question loops in my mind over and over, louder each time. I’ve always believed that if you worked hard enough, you could make a relationship work. But this? This doesn’t feel like a relationship anymore. It feels like a battlefield, with no clear winner and on
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe hospital halls are quieter than usual this afternoon. Adrian is still asleep when I come back from the nurse’s station, where I asked for his updated chart. He’s stable. Recovering well, they said. But even if they didn’t, I think I would’ve stayed right here anyway. I sink into the chair beside his bed and fold his blanket higher on his chest. His breathing is slow, steady. Peaceful.I don’t know how long I just sit there staring at him. Watching his fingers twitch slightly in his sleep. I’ve memorized every line of his face these past few days, every scar and freckle, every soft crease that forms when he dreams. Sometimes, I wonder what he dreams about. Does he know I’m here?There’s no schedule in my head anymore. No outside world. No thoughts of work, the shop, or anything else. Just this room. Just him.The door clicks open behind me.I don’t need to look to know it’s Knoxx. The air shifts the moment he walks in—thick with that same tension that’s bee
Penelope's Point of ViewI knock on Liam’s door, glancing at the time on my phone. Caroline’s still at the hospital, taking care of Adrian. I offered to drop by the house and help with Liam since I know her hands are full. Plus, I miss the kid. There’s something about Liam’s energy that makes everything feel lighter.The door opens, and the nanny greets me with a smile. “Hi, Ms. Penelope. Liam’s inside drawing. He’s been asking if you’re coming.”My chest warms. “Good. I brought snacks.”I head inside, dropping my bag by the counter before walking into the living room. Liam is sitting cross-legged on the rug, his little hand moving crayons across a piece of paper. He looks up and beams when he sees me.“Penny!” he says, jumping to his feet and running to hug me.I kneel to catch him. “Hey, bud. You missed me?”He nods. “Mama’s busy. Daddy is sick. But I made drawings.”“I can’t wait to see them.”He pulls me by the hand, dragging me to the living room floor. I sit down beside him as h
Caroline’s Point of ViewKnoxx is standing in front of me again. Same expensive suit. Same arrogant posture. Same eyes that once used to undo me with a single look. Not anymore.I don’t flinch when he speaks.“You really won’t even look at me?”I cross my arms, leaning back against the wall of the hospital waiting area. The air smells sterile and cold. But inside, I feel oddly still. Numb, even.“I’m looking at you right now,” I say quietly.“That’s not what I meant,” he replies. He shifts on his feet like he’s uncomfortable. “Caroline… everything’s out. Everyone knows what Dolly did. She’s going to prison. You don’t have to keep pretending like you’re angry at me.”“I’m not pretending,” I say, still calm. Too calm. “And I’m not angry.”He frowns. “You’re not?”
Knoxx’s Point of ViewThe jail reeks of sweat, piss, and something else I can’t name. The kind of scent that clings to your skin long after you leave. I’ve been standing here for ten minutes, waiting for them to bring her out. I’m not pacing. I’m not anxious. I’m angry. And the longer I stand here, the more it simmers.She finally walks in—Dolly. Her wrists are cuffed, her hair a tangled mess, lips dry and pale. Her eyes flicker up to mine, hopeful. God. Still hopeful.“Knoxx,” she says, a breathy smile tugging at her lips. “You came.”I sit down across from her, hands clasped, jaw tight. “Don’t act surprised. You knew I would.”She leans forward like this is a reunion. “I didn’t think you’d visit this soon.”“I didn’t come to visit,” I snap. “This isn’t a visit. This is the last time we’ll speak.”Her smile falters, but she covers it quickly. “You’re upset. I get it. The media’s twisting everything—”“Stop talking.”Her mouth shuts.I breathe through my nose, steady, even, but inside
Caroline’s Point of ViewI sit across from the detective in the cold, gray-walled interrogation room, the recorder lying on the table between us. My fingers tremble slightly as I slide the flash drive across the smooth surface. I’ve played this moment in my head all night—how I’d hand over the truth, how I’d finally clear my name.“This is it,” I say, voice low but steady. “Everything she confessed. It’s all there.”Detective Ramirez picks up the drive, giving me a long, assessing look. “You’re sure she wasn’t coerced? No threats?”I meet his gaze. “She talked on her own. I just listened.”He nods slowly, motioning for the officer behind the mirror to take it for processing. My stomach tightens as the door clicks shut again. The moment feels heavier than I imagined.“She admitted to the theft of your designs, the drugging incident, and the incident involving the late Mr. Wayne?” he asks.“Yes,” I say. “She confessed to all of it. She also named someone else. A man. I don’t know his fu
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe door clicks open, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.The surgeon steps inside, still wearing his scrubs. His gloves are off, and his face is tight, but it’s not the kind of tight that screams bad news. It’s calm. Measured.I shoot to my feet.“Is he—?” I choke on the rest of the sentence. My legs feel shaky. I grip the back of the plastic chair for balance.“He’s alive,” the doctor says.I drop into the chair.Alive.My vision blurs, and I don’t realize I’m crying until I taste salt. I cover my mouth, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Alive.“He lost a lot of blood,” the doctor continues, his tone clinical, but kind. “The stab wound punctured a lung, but we were able to stop the bleeding. He’s stable now. He’ll need rest. Weeks of it. But he’s going to recover.”I nod furiously, even though I can barely hear him over the pounding in my chest.“Can I see him?”He nods. “We’ll move him to recovery in a few minutes. He’s still unconscious, but
Caroline’s Point of ViewKnoxx is standing in front of me again. Same expensive suit. Same arrogant posture. Same eyes that once used to undo me with a single look. Not anymore.I don’t flinch when he speaks.“You really won’t even look at me?”I cross my arms, leaning back against the wall of the hospital waiting area. The air smells sterile and cold. But inside, I feel oddly still. Numb, even.“I’m looking at you right now,” I say quietly.“That’s not what I meant,” he replies. He shifts on his feet like he’s uncomfortable. “Caroline… everything’s out. Everyone knows what Dolly did. She’s going to prison. You don’t have to keep pretending like you’re angry at me.”“I’m not pretending,” I say, still calm. Too calm. “And I’m not angry.”He frowns. “You’re not?”
Knoxx’s Point of ViewThe jail reeks of sweat, piss, and something else I can’t name. The kind of scent that clings to your skin long after you leave. I’ve been standing here for ten minutes, waiting for them to bring her out. I’m not pacing. I’m not anxious. I’m angry. And the longer I stand here, the more it simmers.She finally walks in—Dolly. Her wrists are cuffed, her hair a tangled mess, lips dry and pale. Her eyes flicker up to mine, hopeful. God. Still hopeful.“Knoxx,” she says, a breathy smile tugging at her lips. “You came.”I sit down across from her, hands clasped, jaw tight. “Don’t act surprised. You knew I would.”She leans forward like this is a reunion. “I didn’t think you’d visit this soon.”“I didn’t come to visit,” I snap. “This isn’t a visit. This is the last time we’ll speak.&rd
Caroline’s Point of ViewI sit across from the detective in the cold, gray-walled interrogation room, the recorder lying on the table between us. My fingers tremble slightly as I slide the flash drive across the smooth surface. I’ve played this moment in my head all night—how I’d hand over the truth, how I’d finally clear my name.“This is it,” I say, voice low but steady. “Everything she confessed. It’s all there.”Detective Ramirez picks up the drive, giving me a long, assessing look. “You’re sure she wasn’t coerced? No threats?”I meet his gaze. “She talked on her own. I just listened.”He nods slowly, motioning for the officer behind the mirror to take it for processing. My stomach tightens as the door clicks shut again. The moment feels heavier than I imagined.“She admitted to the theft of your designs, the drugging incident, and the incident involving the late Mr. Wayne?” he asks.“Yes,” I say. “She confessed to all of it. She also named someone else. A man. I don’t know his fu