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
Caroline’s Point of ViewIt’s Saturday, and my hands tremble as I adjust my dress for the hundredth time in front of the mirror. Today is supposed to be a turning point—Knoxx is finally going to meet my dad. The knot of nerves in my stomach tightens, but there’s a flicker of excitement too. For once, I have a chance to prove myself, not just to my dad but to myself as well.I glance at my phone, seeing a message from my father:[When will the young master come? Should I take out my fine china to entertain him?]The sarcasm in his words stings. He’s never been a fan of Knoxx, and his mocking tone makes it clear that he still doesn’t think highly of him. I grit my teeth, typing back a reply.[We’ll be there soon, Dad. Please just give him a chance.]I hit send, determined not to let his doubt ruin this day. Today isn’t just about Knoxx meeting my father—it’s about proving that this misunderstanding won’t define us. Once the air is cleared, I know we’ll be happy again.Knoxx walks into th
Caroline’s Point of ViewI step into my father’s office, the heavy wooden door creaking slightly as it closes behind me. The room feels cold and imposing, just as I remember it—lined with towering bookshelves and dominated by the massive mahogany desk in the center. My father doesn’t look up right away, his pen scratching against paper as he finishes whatever task has his attention.When he finally glances up, his piercing gaze lands on me, dissecting me in an instant. “So,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “What brings you back here, Caroline? Should I take out my finest china to entertain the young master, or is this a solo visit?”I square my shoulders, ignoring the sarcasm that drips from his words. “I lost,” I admit, my voice steady even as the admission slices through me. “I’m going to divorce him.”He sets his pen down, folding his hands neatly on the desk. “Ah,” he says, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The last time you appeared in this office, you wanted
Dolly’s Point of ViewThe moment Knoxx mentions that our stay in Italy is only temporary, a sharp pang slices through my chest. I have always known this wasn’t permanent, but hearing it so plainly from his lips makes my stomach churn. It isn’t just about me anymore. My daughter loves it here.And I can’t say no to her.“Mommy, please,” she whines, tugging on the hem of my designer dress with her tiny hands. Her big, pleading eyes glisten as she looks up at me, her bottom lip jutting out in an almost perfect pout. “I don’t want to go back. I love it here. Italy is so much prettier than home! The people talk funny, but I like it!”I stroke her soft curls, my heart squeezing. She is my world, my perfect little angel. How can I deny her anything?I kneel in front of her, smoothing out the frills of her dress as I speak softly. “I know, sweetheart. Mommy loves it here too. But Daddy—” I hesitate, my lips pressing together. The words feel heavy, like they don’t belong in my mouth. “Daddy th
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe moment he speaks, I know I’m in trouble."I saw your job posting," he says, his deep, smooth voice laced with something effortlessly charming. "I’d like to apply."Penelope grips my wrist hard under the counter, and I barely suppress a wince.This man—this Italian god—is exactly the type of employee that would drive my customers crazy. And I don’t mean bad crazy. I mean good crazy. The buy-everything-in-the-store-just-to-see-him-smile kind of crazy.He's got a boyish charm, younger but still undeniably handsome. Tall and lean, he carries himself with effortless confidence, the kind that turns heads without trying. His dark brown hair is tousled in that perfect mix of careless and intentional, and his sharp, well-defined features make it impossible to look away.But it's his eyes that truly draw you in.A deep, warm hazel—alive with mischief, edged with something both playful and a little dangerous.He tilts his head, and I realize I’ve been quiet for too l
Caroline’s Point of ViewWinning the competition should have been the hardest part.I pour everything into my designs, fighting against sabotage, betrayal, and every possible obstacle thrown my way. Yet, standing in my boutique weeks later, watching the steady stream of customers come and go, I realize something.The real battle has just begun.Success has turned into an exhausting whirlwind. My inbox is constantly flooded with custom orders, my phone never stops buzzing with inquiries, and every time I sit down, another customer walks in needing assistance.At first, the rush of it all is exhilarating. Now? It’s just exhausting.Penelope leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching me struggle to balance three jewelry boxes while answering a customer's question. "You need help," she says, unimpressed."I’ve got it," I insist, shifting my grip.I do not have it.One box slips, and in my panic to catch it, the others follow.With a loud clatter, all three hit the floor.Penelope s
Caroline’s Point of ViewI grip my bag so tightly my fingers start to cramp. But I don’t loosen my hold. I don’t dare. Because if I do, I might lose my grip on more than just the bag—I might lose my grip on myself.My mind is still a storm of emotions, a violent whirlwind that refuses to settle, refuses to let me breathe. I replay every word of that kindergarten disaster, every sharp remark Dolly threw at me like knives, aiming straight for the parts of me she knew were already bruised."A child raised without a real father is bound to be unruly.""No wonder Knoxx replaced you."My jaw clenches, my teeth grinding together.How dare she?How dare she stand there, smug and victorious, as if she has some moral high ground over me?Dolly—the woman who stole my designs, my husband, and now wants to act as if she has the right to look down on me?The very thought of it makes my blood boil.I should have said more. Should have ripped her down from that pedestal she’s so desperate to stay on.
Caroline’s Point of View The call from the kindergarten comes when I’m in the middle of reviewing some design sketches. "Ms. Hill," the teacher's voice is tight with concern. "I'm sorry to bother you, but there's been… an incident with Liam." My heart stops for a second. I grip the phone tighter. "What happened?" The teacher sighs. "There was a disagreement between the children. Some of the kids… well, they were saying that Liam has no father. Another child defended him, but it escalated into a physical altercation." My breath catches. Liam. They bullied him again. I inhale sharply, trying to control the sharp sting in my chest. "Who defended him?" A pause. "Bryan." I blink, stunned. Bryan? Lorenzo’s son? That… that doesn’t make sense. Bryan had always been distant towards Liam, not outright cruel, but he never stood up for him either. So why now? I shake off the confusion, focusing on what’s important. "Is Liam hurt?" "No, but we need to address this
Knoxx’s Point of ViewThe moment Dolly steps into my house, holding our daughter in her arms, I feel nothing.Absolutely nothing.I stand there, watching as she moves past me with her usual bright, expectant smile, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor like she already owns the place. She looks around, her eyes lighting up, as if she’s envisioning the future she’s always wanted—the future she thinks she’s about to have.I should feel something.Satisfaction, maybe.Relief, even.But instead, there’s only this dull, suffocating weight in my chest, this gnawing emptiness that refuses to go away no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise.This was supposed to make me feel better.I brought them here for a reason.To prove a point.To show Caroline that I didn’t need her. That I moved on. That I had a family now, a woman who stayed by my side instead of walking away.But the moment I saw her face twist with that cold, indifferent expression, the moment she looked
Dolly’s Point of ViewThe moment my phone screen lights up with his name, my entire body tenses, and for a split second, I forget how to breathe.I blink, my fingers frozen in place, my heart hammering so violently against my ribs that I swear I can hear it echoing in my ears.Knoxx is calling me.It takes a full moment for the reality of it to sink in, and when it does, I feel a shiver of excitement rush down my spine. It’s been so long since I’ve heard from him, so long since he’s willingly reached out first. Every time I’ve called him before, every time I’ve tried to talk to him, he’s either ignored me or given me curt, clipped responses that held no warmth, no softness, nothing for me to hold onto.But this time… this time, it’s different.My heart clenches in my chest, my stomach twisting in anticipation as I swipe my thumb across the screen, pressing the phone to my ear as quickly as I can. But even as I do, I force myself to take a breath, to steady my voice, to not sound too e
Knoxx’s Point of ViewMom.The word rings in my ears, over and over, like a slow-motion explosion. A single syllable, yet it feels like a gunshot straight to my chest.I freeze. My breath turns shallow, my body locking up as my mind scrambles to process what I just heard. I must have misheard. I had to have misheard.Slowly—almost as if I’m afraid of what I’ll see—I turn my head.And then I see them.Caroline, standing tall, her hand loosely clasping Liam’s, her expression unreadable. The boy is pressed close to her side, his bright, innocent eyes looking up at me. Unaware. Unbothered.Like he belongs there.Like he’s hers.My entire body goes rigid.Liam called her Mom.Liam—Adrian’s son—called my wife—no, my ex-wife—Mom.The world tilts violently beneath my feet, my pulse hammering in my skull.“What,” I rasp, my voice barely recognizable. “What the hell did you just say?”Liam blinks up at me, confused, but Caroline doesn’t react.She doesn’t flinch.She doesn’t rush to explain.Sh
Caroline’s Point of View"Mom?"The word slices through the air, sharp, disbelieving.My entire body goes still.That voice.A voice I know too well. One that used to whisper my name in the dark, one that used to own every part of me. A voice that once had the power to make my heart race with just a single word.But now, it chills me.Slowly, I turn, my fingers tightening around Liam’s smaller hand as if bracing myself for what’s to come.Knoxx stands a few feet away, his expression unreadable—but his eyes, those piercing, calculating eyes, burn with something raw. Something unsettled. Something I don’t want to name.He isn’t looking at me.Not really.His gaze flickers between me and Liam, his brows furrowing, his lips parting slightly, as if struggling to process what he just heard."Why would Adrian’s child call you ‘Mom’?"His voice is rough, almost hoarse, like the question is physically painful to ask.Liam tugs on my hand, shifting slightly beside me, his small fingers curling