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
Charles POV:The low hum of the jazz music, the clinking of ice in crystal glasses, the hushed murmur of conversation—it all faded into background noise as I watched Camille Dubois enter the dimly lit bar. She was late, and my impatience simmered, a low burn fueled by a potent mix of whiskey and ambition.Playing hard to get, is she? I thought, my lips curling into a cynical smile.Camille was a pawn in my game, a useful tool to eliminate Nathan. But her usefulness extended beyond her connection to my rival. She was pregnant with his child, a vulnerable woman desperate for love and security, the perfect target for my manipulations.She spotted me at the corner table, her gaze hesitant for a moment before she walked over, her hand resting protectively on her swollen belly.“Mr. Campbell,” she said, her voice softer than I remembered, a hint of nervousness clinging to her words.“Mrs. Dubois,” I greeted, standing up, offering her a chair with a flourish. “Thank you for coming. I trus
Nathan POV:The slam of our room door echoed the thunder booming inside my chest. I spun around, facing Camille, my hands clenched into fists at my sides, my heart a frantic drum solo in my chest.“What the hell was that, Camille?” My voice, rough with anger and hurt, bounced off the bare walls of our entryway.She flinched, her hand instinctively going to her swollen belly, her eyes wide and panicked.“Nathan, I… I can explain.” Her voice was a shaky whisper, barely audible above the city noise filtering in through the open window.“Explain what?” I stepped closer, my anger a living thing, pulsing in my veins. “Explain why you were meeting with Charles Campbell? Alone? In a bar? At this hour?”The scene replayed in my mind, a cruel, unending loop - the dimly lit bar, the intimate corner table, their hands clasped, their heads bent close together, whispering secrets. And Camille, my Camille, looking at him with an expression I couldn’t decipher – a mix of fear, desperation, and…
Agatha POV:The city lights blurred into streaks of color as I sped through the empty streets, the engine of my car a roaring echo of the turmoil in my heart. My phone lay on the passenger seat, its screen illuminated with Charles’s name, his unanswered calls a steady, persistent rhythm that mirrored the frantic beat of my own pulse.I ignored them. All of them. Charles, his charm, his promises, his suffocating possessiveness… it all felt overwhelming, a gilded cage I desperately needed to escape.The encounter with Nathan at the gala, his raw vulnerability, the plea in his eyes, the echo of our shared past… it had shaken me, awakened a longing I’d tried so hard to bury. And Charles’s reaction, the barely veiled jealousy, the possessive grip on my arm, the simmering anger in his gaze… it had confirmed my growing suspicions.He was playing a dangerous game, a game of control and manipulation, and I was caught in the crosshairs.But something else had shifted, a subtle but profound c