Agatha’s POV:"Agatha?" His voice, rough with surprise, sent a shiver down my spine. "God, he is delusional," I thought, rolling my eyes. Did Nathan really think a single phone call could erase everything, fix the giant mess he'd made?I took a deep breath, forcing my voice to stay calm and cool. Time to put on my professional mask. "Yes, Nathan, it’s me," I said. "I apologize for calling so late.”“You can call me anytime you like,” he said, his voice softer now, sending a warmth through me that I quickly pushed away.Don't fall for it, Agatha. Remember what he did. I reminded myself. I couldn't let my guard down, not even for a second.“Isn’t Camille in the room?” I asked, my voice hardening.“Please, Nathan, I’m not playing your games. Respect your fiancée, and respect me.”It felt strange, a little hypocritical, to be the one demanding respect for his fiancée, but the thought of them together, in his bed, made my stomach twist.“She’s… asleep,” he mumbled.“Right,” I said, not
Charles’ POV:I strolled into Aldo's office, a confident smile plastered on my face. Agatha was waiting, her brow furrowed as she studied some documents spread across the massive mahogany desk. The morning light filtering through the window illuminated her hair, turning it into a halo of golden fire.“She's even more beautiful when she's focused.”I thought, my chest tightening with a longing that surprised even me."Good morning, my love," I greeted her, my voice smooth and warm.She looked up, her expression guarded. "Charles. I didn't realize you were coming today."Her voice was cool, distant. My smile faltered slightly. Something was off."Is everything alright, Agatha?" I asked, concern lacing my voice. "You seem… troubled."She sighed, those deep, mesmerizing eyes clouded with a sadness that twisted my gut. "It's nothing, just… a lot on my mind."I knew instantly. Nathan. She'd talked to him. A surge of jealousy, hot and possessive, flooded through me.That bastard. Even when
Agatha’s POVThe conference room buzzed with nervous energy. Lawyers shuffled papers, advisors whispered in hushed tones, and Dad paced back and forth, his phone glued to his ear. The weight of the situation pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating.We were on the verge of exposing Xing Enterprises’s dirty tricks, but a knot of unease twisted in my gut. It wasn’t just the risk to NexGen, to my family’s legacy. It was Charles.He was the architect of this whole plan, the mastermind behind our counterattack. His brilliance, his ruthless efficiency, had both impressed and scared me. He’d been my rock, my protector, during these turbulent weeks. His presence, always reassuring, had filled a void I hadn’t even realized existed.But a shadow of doubt, a nagging whisper of suspicion, lingered in the back of my mind.His methods, sometimes, felt too brutal, too calculating. And his past, shrouded in secrecy, remained a mystery I couldn’t quite unlock.“Agatha, are you ready?” Charles’s vo
Agatha POV:Sleep was a luxury I couldn't afford. Every time I closed my eyes, Charles’s face would swim into view – his warm smile, his reassuring touch, those intense blue eyes that seemed to see right through me. But then, the image would twist, morphing into a shadowy figure with a hidden agenda, his words laced with deceit.Shady dealings… Xing Enterprises… Denies Allegations.The words from the article about his past echoed in my mind, a relentless, haunting refrain.I couldn't ignore it anymore. I had to confront him.“Charles, we need to talk.” My voice was tight, my hand trembling slightly as I held the phone to my ear.At the first hour in the morning, he was in my office, looking even more handsome than usual in the daylight. His tailored suit emphasized his broad shoulders, his brown eyes filled with concern.Part of me, the part that craved his touch, his reassurance, wanted to forget about the article, about my doubts. But the other part, the part that had been hurt, b
Agatha POV:The restaurant Charles chose was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the glittering cityscape, the soft jazz music created a romantic ambiance, and the air hummed with a quiet elegance that made me feel both out of place and strangely excited.But my stomach churned with a nervous energy that had nothing to do with the fancy setting or the exquisite menu. Charles, oblivious to my internal turmoil, was the picture of charm. He poured me a glass of champagne, his hand brushing mine, sending a shiver down my spine."Relax, Agatha," he said, his blue eyes sparkling with warmth. "You’re wound tighter than a drum. Enjoy the evening, let me take care of you."I tried to smile, to let his charm wash over me, but a knot of apprehension tightened in my chest. How could I relax when so much was at stake? When the man sitting across from me, the man I was falling for, might be playing a game I didn't even understand?"I'm fine, Charles," I said, forcing my voice to sound
Agatha POV:The air in Charles's car crackled with tension. We were driving away from the restaurant, but the encounter with James lingered between us, heavy and unsettling. Charles’s jaw was clenched, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. I could practically feel the anger radiating off him, and while a part of me was grateful for his protective instincts, a bigger part felt… uneasy.He pulled onto a quiet side street, the city lights blurring through the rain-streaked windows. He turned to me, his brown eyes intense, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek.“Agatha,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I’m sorry about that… scene back there. Wei is dangerous. Obsessed with you. I won’t let him hurt you, I promise.”His thumb brushed against my lips, sending a shiver down my spine. His touch was electric, making my heart beat faster.I wanted to lean into him, to let his warmth chase away the chill of fear that had settled over me. But a voice in
Charles’ POV:Agatha's rejection stung. I watched her disappear into her Mansion, her silhouette swallowed by the dimly lit hallway, a cold knot of anger tightening in my gut.“I need some time. Alone.” Her words echoed in my head, a slap in the face.I slammed my fist against the steering wheel. I'd been so close, so sure of myself. Everything was going according to plan. I'd saved her family's company, exposed Xing, positioned myself as her protector, the only man she could rely on.And still, she hesitates. Still, she doubts me. Because of him.Nathan. The ghost of Agatha’s past, haunting our present, a constant reminder of everything I wasn't. He was reckless, impulsive, a walking disaster. And yet, Agatha couldn't seem to shake him loose, couldn't resist the pull of their shared history.I'll erase him from her memory, Agatha. I'll make you forget he ever existed. The thought was fierce, possessive, a reflection of the growing obsession that consumed me.I drove back to my pe
Agatha POV:The ballroom was stuffy and loud, but all the chatter and fancy clothes faded away when my eyes met Nathan's across the room. He looked out of place by the bar, his tie loose and his shoulders slumped with this sadness that made my heart hurt.Even after everything – the way he hurt me, the disaster of our marriage – part of me still cared. Seeing him so lost and alone tugged at me in a way I couldn't ignore.Then Charles was there, standing next to him like some shiny, perfect opposite. He was all confidence and power, a stark difference to Nathan's weary look. I watched from afar, my heart pounding, as Charles leaned in to talk, his words too quiet to hear. But I could feel the tension between them, like an electric shock.Nathan's jaw tightened, his whole body stiffening like a trapped animal. He glanced at me for a split second, and I swear I saw desperation in his eyes, maybe even a plea for help.Charles stood up straight, a smug smile playing on his lips. He cau
Agatha POV:The air in the children’s hospital playroom was a chaotic mix of giggling, chattering, and the rhythmic thump of small feet against the linoleum floor. Colorful murals of cartoon animals adorned the walls, bright posters encouraged everyone to “Stay Strong” and “Never Give Up”, and a mishmash of toys lay scattered across the floor like fallen confetti. It was a world away from the sterile silence of the ICUs, but even here, the weight of illness, of childhood suffering, was a palpable presence, a shadow that couldn’t be completely erased by the bright decorations or the forced cheerfulness of the staff.I smiled, trying to project an air of carefree joy as I bent down to help a little girl with a sparkly tiara that kept slipping over her eyes. Her face, pale and delicate, was illuminated by the sheer glee of wearing a crown, her eyes sparkling with an innocence that tugged at my heart. This charity event, a fundraiser for the children’s hospital, was something I had pe
Agatha POV:“Jasmine,” I said, my voice a carefully controlled whisper, my gaze fixed on her, trying to decipher the emotions hidden beneath her usual calm demeanor. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong with Charles?”Her gaze flickered, a brief flash of something – anxiety? – before her face settled back into a mask of polite professionalism.“No, Ms. De Rossi,” she said, her voice measured, almost clinical. “Nothing has happened to Charles, not physically. It is… another kind of matter entirely.”I leaned back in my chair. The air in the office felt charged with unspoken tension, the silence a heavy weight that pressed down on me.“What do you mean, Jasmine?” I asked, my voice barely audible, my fingers tightening around my pen. “What’s going on?”She hesitated for a moment, her gaze drifting to the window, the city lights a distant, indifferent backdrop to the drama unfolding within these sterile walls. When she looked back, her eyes, usually so cold and calculating, wer
Jasmine POV:I tapped my pen against my notepad, the rhythmic click a counterpoint to the frantic pulse of my thoughts. Charles was at it again. This time, it wasn't a hostile takeover or a complex financial scheme – it was Agatha De Rossi, and as always, things were spiraling, fast.My phone buzzed. I knew it would be him, no need to even look at the caller ID. "Jasmine, I need to know everything about Nathan Richards’s finances. Leave no stone unturned!" The words, practically a command, were just a little bit too intense to be just for work, which was usually the case with Charles.I sighed, a small sound that was swallowed by the vast emptiness of my office. I’d been with Charles long enough to recognize the signs – the obsessive focus, the restless pacing, the underlying tension that radiated off him like heat from a furnace. He was smitten, utterly consumed by this woman, and it was making him… reckless."Of course, Charles," I replied, my voice a carefully modulated blend
Agatha POV:The penthouse apartment shimmered, a testament to Charles's impeccable taste and extravagant wealth. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the sleek, modern furniture, the abstract art that adorned the walls, the breathtaking view of the city sprawling beneath us.It was a world away from the sterile white walls of the hospital, the hushed whispers, the constant fear that had clung to me like a second skin.But even in this luxurious sanctuary, a knot of unease tightened in my stomach, a constant reminder of the weight I carried, the decisions I had to make, the tangled mess of my heart that I couldn't seem to unravel.Charles poured me a glass of champagne, the bubbles rising like tiny, effervescent hopes in the crystal flute. He handed it to me, his touch lingering on mine, a possessive gesture that both thrilled and unsettled me."To new beginnings," he said, his voice a warm caress, his blue eyes sparkling with a mixture of admiration and…
Charles POV:The penthouse was silent, the only sound the gentle clinking of ice in my glass as I swirled the amber liquid, the city lights twinkling below like a scattered handful of diamonds. I should have been celebrating. NexGen was on the brink, Agatha, overwhelmed and vulnerable, was falling right into my carefully laid trap.Yet, a strange unease gnawed at me, a persistent hum beneath the surface of my carefully constructed composure.My father’s voice, sharp and disapproving, echoed in my mind. “NexGen? That’s a risky move, Charles. A De Rossi company? It’s not worth it.”He’d never understood my ambition, my drive to conquer, to possess. He’d always preferred the safe, predictable path, the steady accumulation of wealth and power. He’d never taken risks, never played the game with the same ruthless determination that pulsed through my veins.A soft chime announced the arrival of dinner. My stepmother, a woman whose name I barely remembered, glided into the room."Charles, d
Agatha POV:“Agatha, you’re being reckless! You can’t just discharge yourself. The doctor said you need to rest.” Charles’s voice was a mix of concern and… annoyance? I couldn’t quite tell.I ignored him, signing the discharge papers with a flourish, my hand surprisingly steady despite the lingering dizziness, the exhaustion that tugged at me.“I’m fine, Charles,” I said firmly, my gaze meeting his, unwavering. “Really. I need to be with my father. He needs me.”“But Agatha…”“No, Charles,” I interrupted, my voice sharper than I intended. “I appreciate your concern, but I can’t… I can’t stay here. Not when Dad is…”I couldn’t finish the sentence. The thought of him, lying in that hospital bed, hooked up to machines, his life hanging by a thread, was a physical ache in my chest.“Okay,” Charles said, his voice softening, his hand gently touching my arm, a possessive gesture that both comforted and irritated me. “I understand. I’ll… I’ll drive you.”“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’l
Charles POV:The taste of Agatha’s lips, a bittersweet mix of tears and uncertainty, lingered, a phantom sensation against my own. The air in the hospital room crackled with tension, thick and heavy with unspoken words, unresolved emotions.Nathan’s presence, a ghost I thought I’d banished, hung over us, a shadow tainting the intimacy I craved. His eyes, those that mirrored my own hunger for Agatha, were a constant, irritating reminder of the past, of the bond they shared—a bond I was determined to sever, once and for all.I forced a smile, my hand lingering on Agatha's cheek, a possessive gesture meant to stake my claim, to ward off any lingering hopes Nathan might harbor.“Are you feeling better now?” I asked, my voice a carefully modulated murmur.Agatha’s gaze, usually so sharp, so focused, was clouded with confusion, her eyes darting between me and Nathan, a silent plea in their depths.“I’m… I’m not a critical patient, Charles,” she said, her voice a shaky whisper, her hand fl
Agatha POV:My head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache that pulsed in time with the rhythmic beeping of a machine I couldn't quite place. I blinked, my eyes fluttering open, the harsh fluorescent lights of… a hospital room? … stinging my vision. Disoriented, I tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness washing over me, forcing me back against the starched white pillows.“Whoa, easy there.” A gentle hand pressed against my shoulder. “Just take it easy, Ms. De Rossi. You’re safe now.”A doctor, a young woman with kind eyes and a warm smile, stood beside my bed, a stethoscope dangling from her neck.“What… what happened?” I asked, my voice a raspy whisper, my throat dry and scratchy. “Where… where am I?”“You’re in the hospital, Ms. De Rossi,” she explained patiently. “You fainted in the cafeteria. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. Just exhaustion and… well, it seems you haven’t been taking very good care of yourself lately.”Fainted? The cafeteria… Nathan. Camille's baby…The memories of
Agatha POV:The smell of stale coffee and antiseptic hung in the air, a strange mix of comfort and despair. I sat across from Charles, the plastic table a flimsy barrier between us, a bouquet of lilies wilting beside my untouched grilled cheese sandwich. He’d insisted on bringing me here, to this dingy little café across the street from the hospital, after catching me crying in the cafeteria.The news of Camille's baby, of Nathan’s daughter being born with a heart defect, had hit me harder than I expected. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly. It was more like… a painful echo of my own losses, a reminder of the fragility of life, of the dreams that could be shattered in an instant.And then there was the guilt, a gnawing ache in my chest, the constant reminder that I was somehow responsible for this whole mess, for the tangled web of pain and betrayal that had ensnared us all."Agatha, you barely touched your food," Charles said, his voice laced with concern, his blue eyes searching mi