Caroline’s Point of View
As 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 I’d want to take,” I reply, my voice quiet but firm.
I’ve spent so long tiptoeing around her, trying to win her approval for Knoxx’s sake. But right now, all the years of silent endurance feel like they’ve led up to this moment, a release I didn’t realize I needed. The words slip out before I can stop them, and for the first time, I don’t regret them.
Knoxx stands a few feet away, his expression unreadable as he watches us. He doesn’t intervene, doesn’t even flinch as his mother questions me like a stranger caught in her web. He’s letting this happen, just like he’s let everything else happen.
“Let her go, Mom,” he says, finally speaking up, though his voice is devoid of real conviction.
Karen ignores him, narrowing her gaze. “You only married him for the money,” she sneers. “Now that you’re leaving, you’re probably looking for anything valuable to take with you.”
I laugh, a harsh sound that doesn’t even feel like my own. “Valuable? Knoxx never gave me anything valuable, Karen. The only thing he did was auction off that ruby necklace, which I thought was for me, and handed it over to Dolly. What could I possibly want from here?”
I see Knoxx’s expression flicker. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. He knows I’m right. I never married him for money, despite everything they’ve told themselves. They’ve let their version of me grow in their minds until it’s a caricature, something convenient to despise. But I’ve had enough of letting them define who I am.
Karen’s lip curls in a smug, victorious sneer. “There’s no need to pretend anymore. We all know the truth. You were never meant to last. You wanted the Wayne fortune, and that’s all.”
I look her straight in the eye, the anger building inside me like a storm. “I didn’t marry him for his money, Karen. I married him because I loved him. I loved the man I thought he was. But it turns out I was wrong.”
Knoxx looks at me, his face clouded with something that might be guilt or perhaps frustration, but it doesn’t matter anymore. His mother’s words have drained me of the last remnants of patience I might have once had for him.
“Mom, that’s enough,” Knoxx says, his voice edged with annoyance. “Just let her go.”
Karen doesn’t let up. “Of course, she’s leaving now that the money’s drying up. You really think she ever loved you, son?” she asks, her voice dripping with disdain.
I can’t hold back. “You don’t know the first thing about love,” I say, my voice rising. “All you’ve ever cared about is his wealth, his status. You never once cared about the marriage. You treated me like an outsider from the start, and I’m finally seeing you for what you are.”
Her eyes flash, and she takes a step closer, looming over me. “You were never good enough for him, Caroline. You were never one of us.”
“Good enough?” I repeat, my voice shaking with the force of my frustration. “Knoxx is the one who betrayed our marriage, not me. I’ve spent years trying to prove myself, to earn your acceptance. But for what? So you can stand here and call me a gold-digger?”
Karen’s voice is pure venom. “You’ve always been after the Wayne name, the Wayne fortune. And now, you’re just trying to take your cut.”
I straighten, looking her dead in the eye. “The only thing I’m taking is my dignity. It’s the one thing in this house that actually belongs to me.”
Before she can say another word, a voice cuts through the room, slicing through the tension like a blade.
“Let her go.”
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’s Poin of View[Come home.]I glance down at my phone, seeing a text from Knoxx. My brows furrow as I read it again. Home? Why? The confusion lingers in my mind as I sit down on the edge of the bed, staring at the message. There’s no explanation, just a request, or rather, a command.A part of me wants to ignore it, to keep the distance I’ve been trying to build between us. But then I think about Grandpa. His birthday is today, and I know I’m doing this for him, not for Knoxx.Reluctantly, I reply, [I’ll be there.]When I arrive at the house later that day, I’m surprised to see a team of stylists waiting for me. One of them approaches with a warm smile, holding a bundle of clothes. “We’re here to help you get ready for the party, Mrs. Hamilton.”My confusion deepens. "It's just Grandpa's birthday. Why do I need all this?" I ask, looking around at the racks of dresses and trays of makeup.Knoxx steps into the room, his tall frame taking up space like it always does. "There wil
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe loving couple we played fooled everyone, even Knoxx himself, who now looked like a devoted husband. His hand rests lightly on the small of my back, guiding me through the grand ballroom with ease, and his smile is warm and practiced, as though none of this is fake. To the guests, we’re the perfect picture of a happy couple, but I know the truth.Every glance he gives me, every small gesture, feels rehearsed. It’s all part of the act. The man beside me is the father of another woman’s child. My stomach churns at the thought, but I keep my face calm, offering smiles and polite nods. Tonight, none of this is for me—it’s for Grandpa.When we arrive at the dinner party, the grandeur of the venue hits me. The room is draped in golden fabric that glimmers under the light of massive crystal chandeliers, casting a warm glow across the tables adorned with pristine linens. Elaborate floral arrangements sit in the center of each table, and servers in black-and-white un
Knoxx’s Point of View“Wha…what did you just say, Karen?” Grandpa opens his mouth, but suddenly, his face drains of color. His hand shoots to his chest, and his breathing becomes ragged. He looks like he’s about to collapse, as if he’s having a heart attack.“Grandpa!” My heart stops for a second, panic gripping me as I watch him struggle.“Grandpa, calm down!” Caroline notices the change in Grandpa too. Her eyes widen with alarm, and she rushes toward him. “Take deep breaths. It’s okay.”I can see the worry in her eyes, and I know she’s thinking about what mom just said. Then, she turns her head to me. Her expression hardens and confuse. She swallows hard and speaks, “Knoxx, maybe we should just tell him now… he deserves to know.”“No!” I reach out to grab her arm, urgency flooding my voice. “Not now, please. Let’s not do this for now.”Grandpa's breathing grows more uneven, and he grips the table for support. “What is happening? Knoxx, Caroline—what are you two hiding from me?”I l
Caroline’s Point of ViewI sit in the car, my heart still racing after everything Knoxx just told me. I can’t believe what I’ve just heard, and yet, the way he looked at me—desperate, almost broken—makes me want to believe him. But after everything we’ve been through, trusting him feels like stepping onto thin ice."Caroline, please," Knoxx says quietly, glancing at me from the driver’s seat. "I just need you to understand. I never wanted to hurt you."I lean my head against the window, fingers fidgeting with my phone. The memory of Dolly’s articles and their implications lingers like a shadow I can’t shake.I nod slowly, unsure of what to say. Part of me wants to scream, wants to ask why he didn’t tell me all of this sooner. But another part of me—the part that still loves him—wants to believe him. That part feels foolish, but it’s there, clinging to the hope that things could still change."I just don’t understand," I finally say, my voice edged with frustration. "Why didn’t you tell
Knoxx’s Point of ViewIt’s too quiet in the house.I’m sitting on the edge of the bed in my daughter’s room—our daughter’s room—watching her sleep. Eight years old, but still small in ways that remind me how fragile everything is. She clutches the worn-out stuffed bear Dolly gave her on her third birthday. The same one she wouldn't let go of even when she had the flu and cried through the night.I’ve been checking on her more often. Staying longer than I need to. Not because she asks—she rarely does—but because I don’t know what else to do with myself anymore.“Hey, sweetheart,” I whisper, brushing a loose curl from her forehead. “It’s just you and me now.”She doesn’t stir. Just turns her face toward the wall.I lean back against the bedpost, hands tangled together, eyes fixed on the soft glow of the nightlight in the corner. I should feel
Caroline's Point of ViewThe air still smells like antiseptic and cold metal, but somehow, it feels warmer today. Maybe it’s because he’s sitting up now. Alive. Awake. Breathing.Adrian’s hoodie is half-zipped as he moves slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid to tear open anything that’s finally starting to heal. The nurses said he’s stable enough to go home—as long as someone stays with him.I didn’t hesitate.“I’ll take him,” I told them.Because there’s nowhere else he belongs. Not right now.I’m standing by his bed, arms crossed like a wall between myself and all the things I’m feeling. He looks up at me as he adjusts the hoodie. His movements are still weak, but steadier than they were days ago.“You sure you’re okay to leave?” I ask f
Knoxx's Point of ViewThe bottle is half-empty, and the silence in my apartment is too loud. I sit on the couch, staring at nothing. The TV is off. My phone is face down. I haven’t eaten. I haven’t slept much either, unless you count the few hours I passed out on the bathroom floor last night after another round of drinking.I don't know how many nights it's been like this now.I pick up the bottle again. My hand shakes slightly, and I pretend not to notice.She doesn’t love me.That thought—raw, sharp—keeps cutting deeper every time it returns. I tell myself I’m angry. I tell myself she was manipulated. I tell myself it was Adrian’s fault.But I know the truth.She doesn’t love me.Not anymore. Maybe she never really did. Maybe she just wanted to believe I could be someone worth loving.I failed her.“Where the hell did I go wrong?” I mutter to no one.I slam the bottle down too hard on the table, and it cracks slightly near the base. I glare at it like it's to blame.The door swings
Caroline's Point of ViewI don’t expect to find them like this.I’m coming back from the nurse’s station with a warm cup of tea in hand—Adrian’s favorite blend—when I turn the corner and freeze at the doorway to his hospital room.The lights are dimmed. The sterile white of the walls doesn’t bother me today, not when I see the softest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on: Liam sitting beside Adrian in the reclining chair, a picture book opened between them. Adrian’s voice is quiet but clear, reading out loud with calm cadence, pausing for Liam to fill in the next word.Liam’s fingers trace the illustrations. He’s completely focused, not wiggling or distracted the way he usually is.I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. I don’t want to break the moment.“‘And the little fox curled up next to his mama…’” Adrian says gently. “You know the next part?”Liam nods eagerly. “‘Because he was home. Safe and warm.’”“Yeah,” Adrian whispers. “Exactly.”My chest tightens.The paper cup in my hand feels hot.
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