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
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
Charles POV:The sight of Nathan Richards slumped on the hospital floor, his shoulders shaking, his face buried in his hands, should have filled me with satisfaction. This was what I’d been working towards, wasn’t it? To break him, to strip him of everything – his company, his family, his pride. To expose him as the weak, selfish fool he truly was.But as I stood there, watching him crumble, a strange, unexpected emotion flickered within me. It wasn’t pity, not exactly. It was more like… a hollow ache, a recognition of a shared humanity I’d long forgotten.The hallway was empty, the usual bustle of nurses and visitors absent in this quiet corner, the only sound Nathan's ragged breaths and the faint hum of the vending machine down the hall.I walked towards him, my footsteps echoing on the floor. He didn't look up, his body curled in on itself, a picture of defeat. I remembered a different Nathan, the arrogant, cocky kid who'd ruled the hallways of our prep school, the charismatic
Nathan POV:I burst through the door of Camille’s hospital room, sweat dripping down my face, my chest heaving. The sterile smell of the place, usually a calming scent, only fueled the rage that was burning inside me.“Nathan? What… what are you doing here?” Camille’s voice was a mix of surprise and… was that disgust?“What the hell do you think I’m doing here?” I snarled, the words exploding out of me. “Our daughter was just born, and you… you just walk out, leaving me with nothing but a stupid note?”I was a mess. My hair was a mess, my clothes were wrinkled, and my face probably looked like I’d been through hell. But I didn’t care. I was furious. Camille had left me, announced to the world she was raising our kid alone, and I’d almost missed the birth of my own daughter because of it.“You look awful, Nathan,” Camille said, her voice flat, cold. She looked me up and down, her lip curling in a sneer.“Thanks,” I muttered, the anger turning inward, leaving a bitter taste in my m
Charles POV:I watched Agatha across the hospital cafeteria, my chest tightening at the sight of her slumped figure, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. It should have been a moment of victory, a confirmation that my plan to break Nathan and Agatha was working. But a strange ache pulsed in my chest, a feeling that had nothing to do with winning and everything to do with… her pain.Damn it, Agatha. Why do you have to make this so complicated?I knew what had happened. Overheard Nathan’s assistant gushing on the phone about the birth of his child.“The Richards family is officially cursed!” she'd whispered, barely able to contain her glee. “The poor thing was born with some… problems. It’s really sad, but the grandparents are already talking about disowning her. You know how they are about the Richards’ bloodline.”She'd cleared her throat then, her voice back to its usual professional tone, completely oblivious to my presence.It was a cruel twist of fate, a tragedy for a child
Agatha POV:The hospital air felt heavy, thick with the smell of antiseptic and a quiet kind of panic. Every beep of a machine, every muffled cry from somewhere down the hall, every hurried whisper from the nurses, made the fear inside me grow stronger.Dad was still unconscious. The only sign he was alive was the steady rhythm of the ventilator. His face, usually so full of life, looked pale and weak. The worry lines were etched deep into his skin.I had been praying that he’d wake up. I clung to the hope that his strong will, his fighting spirit, would pull him through. But the doctor’s words, even though he tried to be gentle, kept echoing in my mind: "Critical condition." It was a constant reminder that Dad was hanging on by a thread.I was exhausted. My eyelids feel heavy, my head dizzy. I needed coffee, something to keep me going, to keep the darkness away.As I walked down the long hallway towards the cafeteria, I saw him. Charles.He was arguing with the receptionist, hi
Charles POV:“It’s been a whole day, Jasmine! Not a single call, not a text. Nothing!” I paced my office like a caged lion, my phone clutched in my hand. “Something’s definitely off.”Jasmine sighed on the other end of the line, that long-suffering sound I’d gotten used to over the years. It always made me smile, even when I was irritated.“Charles, you’re acting like a lovesick teenager,” she said, her voice a mix of amusement and exasperation.“It’s been one day. One very stressful day, I might add. Her dad is in the hospital! She probably has other things on her mind besides your… performance.”“But we were… intimate.” I lowered my voice, a smug grin spreading across my face even though I knew she couldn't see it. “Last night. After… you know, the whole Richards mess.”“You slept with her?” Jasmine’s voice was sharp, like she’d just tasted something sour. “Charles, are you serious? The woman’s father is practically dying, and you thought that was the right time to jump her bon
Agatha POV:The silk sheets clung to my bare skin, still warm from the heat of our bodies, the scent of Charles’s cologne a lingering reminder of the night we’d just spent… entangled. My heart thumped against my ribs, a frantic drum solo against the silence of his bedroom.My mind replayed the events of the previous night, a confusing mix of shock, anger, fear, and a desire I hadn't expected.It all started after Charles had punched Nathan, his fury terrifying, his possessiveness almost suffocating. Seeing Nathan’s face, bruised and bloodied, had twisted something inside me, a mix of anger at Nathan, fear of Charles, and a desperate yearning for… something I couldn't name.And then, Charles, his anger fading as quickly as it appeared, had turned to me, his eyes filled with a tenderness that felt both genuine and calculated.“Let me take care of you, Agatha,” he’d murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.He'd led me upstairs, his hand a gentle pressure on my