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
Camille POV:The silence in our bedroom pressed against me like a physical weight. Nathan sat at his desk, hunched over a mountain of paperwork, his brow furrowed, jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping beneath his skin. The lamplight cast long, harsh shadows across his face, making him look years older than he was.My hand rested on my swollen belly, a wave of nausea washing over me. It wasn’t just morning sickness this time. It was a deeper unease, a growing knot of anxiety that tightened with every silent hour we spent under the same roof.Ever since the Xing Enterprises mess, since his grand gesture of "sacrifice" as the news had dubbed it, a chasm had opened between us. He was a ghost haunting our own home, his thoughts a million miles away, always circling back to Agatha.He doesn't love me. He never really did. The thought, sharp and painful, pricked at the fragile bubble of denial I'd been clinging to.He had chosen me, hadn't he? He’d asked me to marry him
Agatha POV:The spoon felt unnaturally heavy in my hand, the mint chocolate chip ice cream cloyingly sweet on my tongue.Usually, it was my comfort food, my go-to indulgence after a stressful day. Tonight, each spoonful felt like swallowing lead.Across the low coffee table in my living room – Dad’s living room, technically, though I’d started thinking of the mansion as mine these days – Charles beamed, digging into his own bowl with gusto.He’d arrived exactly an hour after my text, a pint of the most expensive artisanal mint chip available clutched in one hand and a bouquet of pale pink roses, my favorites, in the other. The perfect picture of the doting, attentive partner.My skin prickled.
Agatha POV:"Everything looks perfectly healthy, Ms. De Rossi. Strong fetal development, right on track for ten weeks."Dr. Williams smiled warmly, adjusting the ultrasound wand slightly. On the screen, a tiny, flickering shape pulsed – a small miracle, a terrifying reality. My reality."See, Agatha? Perfect." Charles squeezed my hand, his voice radiating a proud, almost proprietary warmth that made my skin crawl.He leaned closer to the screen, his expression intense, focused."Heartbeat looks strong, wouldn't you say, Doctor? Any potential complications we should be aware of? Given Agatha's… history?"
Charles POV:Agatha stood before me, pale, defiant, her words a physical blow: My baby. I don't plan to register you as the father.Panic, cold and sharp, pierced through the red haze of my anger. Take my child away? Erase me from their life? Let me walk away and marry some suitable drone my father approved of? The very idea was unthinkable, a violation so profound it shook me to my core.No. Never.The anger, the explosive rage that had surged moments before, receded as quickly as it came, replaced by a desperate, clawing fear. Fear of losing her. Fear of losing this… this unexpected, terrifying, miraculous connection. Our child.
Agatha POV:"Yes, Doctor Williams, thank you for calling back so quickly." I paced the length of my living room, the plush rug doing little to cushion the nervous energy thrumming through me. "Of course, Ms. De Rossi," Dr. Williams' voice came through the phone, calm and professional, yet with an underlying note of something… unusual. "I just wanted to follow up on our conversation from yesterday. And also… to mention something a bit odd.""Odd?" My grip tightened on the phone. "What is it?""Well, shortly after you left the clinic yesterday, a man came in asking questions. About you."My blood ran cold. "Asking questions? What kind of questions?""He was… persistent," the doctor continued, her voice hesitant. "Asked about the nature of your visit, your overall health, even tried to inquire about future appointments. Said he was a concerned 'family friend'."Family friend. The phrase hit me like a physical blow. Charles. It had to be Charles. Nathan was gone. James was subtle, a ma
Charles POV:"Tell me again, Thompson. Henderson’s exact words." I leaned back in my office chair, the supple leather cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the heat simmering beneath my carefully maintained composure.My fingers steepled, tapping lightly together. Patience. Control. That was the key."He stated, and I quote, sir," Thompson's voice came through the speakerphone, flat, precise, devoid of inflection, "that Ms. De Rossi's appointment as interim CEO is 'a temporary measure born of sentiment, not strategy,' and that he intends to 'formally challenge her suitability and demand a full board review of leadership capabilities' at the earliest opportunity."Henderson. Malcolm Henderson.A pompous, puffed-up peacock stru
Agatha POV:My mind raced.Was he trying to warn me about Charles using Nathan’s disappearance? Or was he subtly suggesting Nathan himself was a victim, not a villain? His words were like smoke, curling and shifting, impossible to grasp firmly.“Manuel,” I said, deciding to push back, test his boundaries. “What is it you really want? Why come to me with these… observations?”He met my gaze directly then, a flicker of something almost like… sincerity? … in his dark eyes. “As I said, Ms. De Rossi. My loyalty is to your father. To NexGen. I believe you are the rightful leader of this company. You have the vision, the strength. But… you are navigating dangerous waters. And you are… perhaps, isolated
Agatha POV:The blinking cursor on the monitor seemed to mock me. Financial projections swam before my eyes, a meaningless jumble of numbers that refused to align, refused to make sense. My head throbbed, a dull ache behind my eyes that had become a constant companion these past few weeks. And the tiny, persistent nausea that lurked just beneath the surface, a secret reminder of the impossible reality I was carrying inside me.The weight of it felt crushing. The board meeting next week loomed like an executioner’s appointment. They didn't trust me, I knew that. They saw Aldo De Rossi’s daughter, inexperienced, a temporary placeholder until they could install someone… more suitable. Someone they could control.The intercom buzzed, startling me. Sarah’s voice, usually crisp and efficient, sounded hesitant.“Ms. De Rossi? Sorry to interrupt, but… Manuel is here. He says it’s urgent and requests a private word.”Manuel? Dad’s assistant? My eyebrows furrowed. Manuel was quiet, efficien
Charles POV:The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off my view of Agatha. Her hurried escape, the almost frantic way she’d jabbed the button, left a sour taste in my mouth. She was hiding something."Errands?" I muttered under my breath, turning away from the closed doors. "In the Obstetrics and Gynecology wing? Unlikely."My mind raced. Pale. Tired. Nauseous, maybe? She'd brushed off my concern, blamed it on stress, on her father's illness. Plausible excuses, easily accepted if I hadn't seen the flicker of panic in her eyes, the way her hand had instinctively, almost imperceptibly, drifted towards her stomach.Something was wrong. Something she didn't want me to know.I found a quiet alcove down the hall, away from the sparse foot traffic.
Agatha POV:The vinyl chair squeaked beneath me, a small, protesting sound in the otherwise hushed waiting room.A toddler whined fitfully in the corner, clutching a worn teddy bear, while his mother scrolled absently through her phone.Obstetrics and Gynecology.The words on the frosted glass door seemed to loom, pulsing slightly in time with the nervous thrum beneath my ribs.This was real. This appointment, this check-up, this… situation.My hand strayed, as it often did these days, to my stomach. Still flat, still betraying nothing of the seismic shift that had occurred within me. Eight weeks. A tiny life, Charles’s life, growing inside me.