Jessica's POV. I sat alone in my penthouse, the air thick with smoke and the bitter scent of whiskey. I took another long drag from my cigarette, the embers glowing like the fury in my chest. I poured myself another drink, the amber liquid sloshing over the rim as my hands trembled. Fat, pathetic Seraphina. The name echoed in my mind like a mocking refrain. How could it be her? How could the same weak, submissive woman turn into this... Allison? She was the one at the elite boutique, the one who had beaten up my bodyguards and slapped me around like I was nothing. She had this perfect body now, confident and powerful, while I was left behind, burning with jealousy. I screamed, throwing the empty glass across the room. It shattered against the wall, mirroring the pieces of my crumbling sanity. Williams had seen her. He had looked at her with regret, with longing. No wonder he wasn’t close to me anymore. He was still in love with her. The bitch. I grabbed the bottle and took a s
Williams' POV. Allison’s words replayed in my mind, each one a blow to my face. "I was pregnant, Williams. Three months gone. Wanted to announce it on our third anniversary." I had lost not just my wife, but also a child I never knew about. The sheer weight of it all was suffocating. I found myself at the bar, nursing my fourth—or was it fifth?—scotch of the night. The amber liquid burned my throat, but it was a welcome distraction from the torrent of guilt and self-loathing swirling within me. I looked into the glass, seeing my reflection distorted by the alcohol. “You bastard,” I muttered to myself, my voice slurring slightly. “You selfish, insensitive bastard.” I couldn't shake the image of Allison's face as she spoke, the cold, emotionless exterior barely concealing the pain and hurt. The fact that she had carried my child, our child, and lost it because of my actions was a dagger to my heart. “I could’ve been a father,” I said, louder this time, catching the attention o
Williams POV. The pounding in my head was non-stop, a reminder of the previous night.. As I slowly opened my eyes, the unfamiliar surroundings made my heart sink. I was in a cell. I could barely believe it. I rubbed my temples, trying to piece together the occurrence of last night. “Allison…” I muttered, the name slipping from my lips swiftly. Memories of me stumbling through the streets, shouting her name, and being restrained by the police flooded back. I groaned and sat up, wincing at the dull ache in my muscles. The concrete bench beneath me was hard, and the cold steel bars surrounding me felt like an insult to my status. Me, Williams, a billionaire, in a cell. It was beyond humiliating. “What the hell am I doing here?” I demanded, my voice sounding through the empty holding area. “Let me out!” An officer approached me, his expression firm. “Calm down, sir. You were brought in for disturbing the peace.” “Do you know who I am?” I snapped, rising to my feet unsteadily.
Allison's POV. I stood in front of the mirror, adding a touch of lip gloss to my lips. The soft sheen highlighted the natural curve of my mouth, giving me a final polished look. Just as I finished, the doorbell rang, its chime echoing through the quiet house. I took a deep breath, adjusting the strap of my dress, ensuring everything was in place before heading out. Opening the door, I saw Edward waiting for me outside his car. He looked utterly good—his tailored suit fitting him perfectly, his hair neatly styled. His eyes raked over my body, and I saw him blink, momentarily caught off guard. Edward was a powerful man, respected and feared by many in our world of Espionage. But for me, he seemed almost like a little boy trying to impress me. He approached me with a confident stride, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Allison, you look beautiful," he said, his voice sincere. I managed to smile, feeling a mix of flattery and discomfort. "Thanks, Edward." We stood there for
Allison's POV. Formulating the plan was the easy part. I had always been good at strategy, but this one was personal. Williams had hurt me in ways that were still difficult to fully comprehend, and now, I was going to hit him where it hurt the most: his pocket. Disguising myself as a middle-aged woman was crucial to the plan. I spent hours perfecting the look. A wig of graying hair, a set of false teeth to alter my smile, heavy makeup to add wrinkles and age spots. By the time I was done, even I barely recognized myself. I slipped into character, adjusting my posture to that of an older woman, slightly hunched and slower in my movements. The final touch was a pair of thick glasses that magnified my eyes and completed the transformation. I looked every bit the part of an unsuspecting older investor. With the disguise in place, I headed to Williams' company. The receptionist barely gave me a second glance as I introduced myself as Mrs. Eleanor Fairfax, a wealthy widow looking to
Williams POV I stared at my computer screen, the numbers on the financial reports blurring together. It had been weeks since Mrs. Fairfax had disappeared, and the promised returns on the investment were nowhere to be seen. My patience had run thin, and the nagging suspicion that something was terribly wrong ate at me. "Get Johnathan in here," I barked into the intercom. Johnathan, my trusted assistant, entered the office, concern etched on his face. "Yes, Mr. Luther?" "Pull up everything we have on Fairfax Estates," I demanded, my voice tight with frustration. Johnathan nodded, quickly accessing the files. As the documents loaded, my eyes scanned the pages, searching for anything I might have missed. "This doesn't make sense," I muttered, flipping through the papers. "Why aren't there any updates? No contact? Nothing?" Jonathan hesitated before speaking. "Sir, maybe we should investigate further. Something about this whole deal feels off." I glared at him, but I couldn
Williams POV. I couldn't let it go. The humiliation, the financial loss, the sheer audacity of the con—it consumed my every waking thought. I needed answers, and I needed justice. So, I hired John Harrison, the best private investigator money could buy. If anyone could unravel this mystery, it was him. Weeks turned into month as Harrison chased down leads, pieced together clues, and slowly started to untangle the web of deception that had ensnared me. Then, one afternoon, Harrison walked into my office, his expression grave but bold. "I've got something, Mr. Luther," he said, laying a thick folder on my desk. I leaned forward, my pulse quickening. "What is it?" Harrison opened the folder, revealing photographs, documents, and a detailed report. "The woman who scammed you, the one who posed as Mrs. Fairfax, doesn't exist. But I traced her movements and the people she interacted with. It all leads back to one person: Allison Miles." The name struck me like a bolt of lightning
Allison's POV.The pizza restaurant on the corner of 5th and Main was unassuming, a small family-run joint with faded red-and-white checkered tablecloths and the smell of fresh dough wafting from the kitchen. The neon sign flickered in the evening light, showing a glow on the sidewalk. It was the perfect cover.Inside, families laughed over shared pies, and the staff moved around, attending to tables. But it wasn’t the pizza that drew me here tonight. I made my way to the back of the restaurant, past the kitchen, where a nondescript door led to a hidden elevator. I glanced over my shoulder, making sure I wasn’t being followed, before stepping inside. As the lift descended, the atmosphere changed. The hum of the restaurant above faded, replaced by the low thrum of anticipation. The elevator doors opened to reveal a world far removed from the innocent façade above. It was a den of vice, a hidden casino where the city’s most dangerous men came to gamble away their fortunes.The hall was