Caroline’s Point of View
I’m in the middle of reviewing designs in my studio when it hits—an overwhelming queasiness that makes my stomach lurch. My hands freeze over the sketches, and I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
It doesn’t work. The sensation grows stronger, forcing me to abandon my work and head straight to the bathroom.
I clutch the edge of the sink, the cool porcelain grounding me as I fight the urge to retch. I tell myself it’s stress. That’s all it can be. Between the divorce, the constant tension with Knoxx, and the endless juggling act of managing Aline Jewerly Havens, my body is bound to feel the strain.
But as the minutes pass, the nausea doesn’t fade. Instead, it clings to me, persistent and unyielding.
I thought if I just gave myself some time to rest, whatever this was would pass on its own. I convinced myself it was just a temporary thing—stress, exhaustion, maybe even
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe late afternoon sun is soft, casting golden light over the garden where I sit, lost in thought. My hands rest lightly on my lap, but the tension in my chest doesn’t fade. The faint scent of blooming flowers surrounds me, but it does little to calm the storm brewing inside.I feel off. I’ve felt off for days now. Morning sickness has become a daily companion, and I know I can’t keep ignoring it. But the question remains: do I tell Knoxx?A part of me whispers that I should. No matter how strained things are between us, he has a right to know. But then, I remember the cold silence that has hung between us since the dinner party. He hasn’t reached out, hasn’t even tried to fix things. He’s letting me stew in my own frustrations, and I can’t help but think it’s exactly what Dolly wanted.I sigh, running a hand over my stomach as if it holds the answers. “What do I do?&rdqu
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe steady hum of my office fills the air as I sit at my drafting table, pencil in hand. The world around me fades as I lose myself in the delicate lines and curves of the necklace I’m sketching. Designing has always been my sanctuary—a place where the noise of life quiets and my thoughts can flow freely.Today, however, there’s a faint buzz of unease that I can’t quite shake. Something feels off, though I can’t put my finger on it.“Caroline,” Lisa’s voice cuts through the silence, breaking my focus.I look up to see her standing in the doorway, a nervous energy radiating from her. She’s holding her tablet, her fingers gripping it tightly. “You’re not going to believe this.”“What is it?” I ask, setting my pencil down and gesturing for her to come closer.She hesitates, then steps into the room and places the tablet in front of
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe night feels heavy as I sit in my living room, scrolling through my phone, hoping for some distraction from the gnawing unease Lisa left behind earlier.I try to focus on the bright images on my screen, scrolling aimlessly through social media, watching posts and updates that mean nothing. They’re a distraction, yes, but the unease in my gut refuses to fade. The events of the day swirl in my mind—Lisa’s unsettling behavior, her hurried exit from the studio without any explanation, the way she seemed to be avoiding eye contact. All of it points to something. Something I can’t quite grasp, but I feel it in my bones.I take a deep breath, setting my phone down on the coffee table. Maybe I’m overthinking it. Lisa has been with me for years, and while she’s been acting strange lately, it’s hard to believe she’d betray me like that. She’s always been a close friend, more than just
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe shock hasn’t worn off yet. It’s been hours since I watched Lisa’s video, but the words still echo in my mind like a hollow drumbeat. I can’t escape them. I can’t escape the betrayal, the coldness in her eyes when she said Dolly was the true visionary behind everything I’ve worked for. But there’s more to this. The more I think about it, the more I realize something doesn’t add up.How could I have been so blind?How could she do this to me?I think back to the conversations we had, the moments that should have raised red flags. How Lisa had always been so reassuring, so confident in our success. But there was that moment—the celebrity who had an allergy to one of our designs. It had seemed like a small issue at the time, but Lisa’s reaction was strange. She had known exactly what had happened, almost like she had anticipated it, and I couldn’t understand h
Caroline’s Point of ViewI stand frozen at Dolly’s door, my breath shallow and uneven. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, thumping louder with each passing second. I should’ve expected this, but part of me is still caught off guard. I’ve prepared myself for this confrontation, but nothing could truly prepare me for the reality of what I’m about to face.When I knock, the sound echoes sharply down the hall, breaking the silence that has consumed me. A moment later, Dolly’s voice calls out from inside, almost too casual.“Come in.”I push the door open, stepping into her room. But before I can get too far, Dolly’s eyes widen in apparent surprise. She’s sitting at her desk, but the calm demeanor she usually wears falters just for a second. She’s taken off guard, I can tell. But she quickly recovers, putting on a smile as if she’s done nothing wrong.“What’s this about
Caroline’s Point of ViewI wake up in a haze, my head pounding and my body sore. The sharp scent of antiseptic fills the air, making my stomach churn. My eyes flutter open, and the bright fluorescent lights above sting my vision. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. Everything feels distant, and I can’t shake the overwhelming sense of confusion.Then panic grips me. My hands tremble as I clutch my stomach, my breath coming out in short, ragged gasps. "My baby—" My voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.“Caroline, are you really this naïve?”I ignore the voice and immediately look down at my stomach. "B-baby… My baby! Is my baby okay?!"A firm but gentle hand presses against mine. "Caroline, calm down. Breathe."I blink rapidly, my vision clearing enough to see Penelope sitting at the edge of my bed. Her face is twisted in frustration, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes red with worry and anger."Tell me," I plead, my voice cracking. "The baby—""Your baby is fine," P
Caroline’s Point of ViewPenelope returns not long after Knoxx storms out, her face a mask of barely contained fury. She sets her purse down on the chair and crosses her arms tightly over her chest, staring at me with a mix of anger and concern.“I can’t believe him,” she hisses, her voice shaking. “I cannot believe that man. What did he say to you?”I shake my head, my throat tight, the lump in it making it impossible to speak. Tears I’ve been holding back spill over, and I cover my face with my hands, sobbing quietly.“That bad, huh?” Penelope mutters, pulling a tissue from her bag and handing it to me. “I don’t need to hear it. I already know. He’s a grade-A idiot. Always has been.” She sits down beside me, her voice softening slightly. “But you need to tell me what happened, Caroline. I need to know exactly what he said.”I wipe my face, trying to find my voice. “He... he said when I fell down, I took Dolly with me. That I’m lying. He said... he doesn’t believe me, Penelope. He th
Caroline’s Point of ViewI lie in my hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing faster than my heart can handle. Everything feels like a nightmare I can’t wake up from. Lisa. Dolly. Knoxx. They all played a part in my downfall, and I had been too blind to see it coming.Lisa and Dolly worked together. The realization hits me like a cold slap across the face. It makes sense now—the way Lisa had always been around at just the right time, the way she had subtly manipulated conversations, making sure I never saw the truth. She had been feeding Dolly everything. My designs, my ideas, my weaknesses. She had never been my friend. And now, Knoxx…I squeeze my eyes shut, the memory of his voice still fresh in my mind.“I was wrong about you. I didn’t think you’d be this vicious.”I clutch the sheets tightly. The way he looked at me, like I was someone he couldn’t recognize, someone unworthy of even hearing out… it’s unbearable. He chose Dolly. He always chooses her.My mind is a mess
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