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
Agatha POV:James’s words echoed in my head, a sinister lullaby that chased away any hope of sleep. “Nathan Richards is not the man you think he is… his past is full of secrets. Secrets that could destroy you.”Destroy me? What did that even mean? What secrets could be so terrible? The questions gnawed at me, twisting my stomach into knots.I’d tried to dismiss James’s words as the bitter ramblings of a scorned man, a desperate attempt to manipulate me, to drive a wedge between Nathan and me. But doubt, like a persistent weed, had taken root, its tendrils wrapping around my heart, choking the fragile hope I’d allowed myself to feel.I thought about calling Nathan, demanding answers, confronting him with James’s accusations. But what good would it do? He’d already proven himself to be a master of deception. His words, his promises… how could I believe anything he said?Work offered a temporary distraction. I buried myself in spreadsheets and presentations, trying to focus on the f
Charles POV:The news report practically screamed from my phone screen: “Camille Dubois Calls Off Engagement with Nathan Richards!” A slow, satisfied smile spread across my face. That foolish girl had done exactly what I’d planned, right on schedule.She never stood a chance.Camille was a pawn, a simple tool to remove Nathan from the equation. A few whispers, a carefully orchestrated meeting, and her fragile world imploded. It was a brutal game, yes, but one I played with precision and purpose. All is fair in love and war, especially when the prize was Agatha De Rossi.My fingers itched to call Agatha, to be her rock, her confidante in this moment of turmoil. I imagined her, shaken and vulnerable, needing my strength, my comfort. The thought sent a wave of warmth through me, a possessiveness that bordered on obsession.I dialed her number, my heart pounding with anticipation. But it went straight to voicemail. Again.“Agatha, pick up.” I willed her, my smile fading, a knot of fr
Agatha POV:The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the chirping of birds, a serene backdrop to the storm raging inside me. I stood on the grand steps of the De Rossi mansion, staring at the wrought-iron gates, my heart a lead weight in my chest.The doctor’s words echoed in my mind, a relentless, chilling mantra: “Critical condition.” Dad, my rock, my anchor, was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life. A massive heart attack, they’d said.My world felt like it was crumbling around me. First Nathan, then Camille, and now this. It was too much, a relentless assault on everything I held dear.The loneliness was crushing, a suffocating wave that threatened to drown me. Bianca, my surrogate mother, my confidante, had left weeks ago, seeking solace away from the storm that seemed to follow me wherever I went.“I need to go home, Agatha,” she’d said, her eyes filled with longing for a simpler life, away from the burdens of my family’s wealth and drama. “My fami
Charles POV:The warmth of Agatha’s body pressed against mine, her trembling a tangible expression of her grief, ignited a confusing mix of emotions within me. Protective instincts surged, a fierce desire to shield her from pain, to offer solace and strength. But alongside that empathy, a darker current pulsed - a thrill of possessiveness, a sense of opportunity.She’s vulnerable. She needs me. And this time, I won’t let her push me away.I held her close, my hand stroking her hair, her scent – a delicate blend of lilies and jasmine – filling my senses.“It’s alright, Agatha,” I murmured, my voice a low rumble against her ear, the words both a comfort and a calculated reassurance. “I’m here now. I won’t let anything else happen to you.”She clung to me, her sobs muffled against my chest, her vulnerability a potent elixir, intoxicating and dangerous. I felt a surge of power, a heady sense of control. This was what I craved, what I’d been working towards – Agatha, broken and reliant,
Agatha POV:The mansion felt like a tomb, shadows lurking in every corner. The only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock, each tick a sharp stab at my already raw nerves.Dad was still in a coma, fighting for his life. The doctors didn't offer much hope, their faces grim, their words carefully chosen. NexGen, my family's company, was vulnerable, like a wounded animal surrounded by predators waiting to pounce.I couldn't even think about losing Dad. The thought was too painful, a black hole threatening to swallow me whole.James’s words echoed in my head, a creepy lullaby: “Nathan’s past is full of secrets… secrets that could destroy you.”Destroy me? How? Why? What was he talking about?The questions gnawed at me, adding to the fear and uncertainty that already felt like a physical weight.Charles had been my rock these past weeks. He was always there, a steady presence in the chaos, offering comfort and support. His calmness, his belief in me, had felt like a lifeline.But
Agatha POV:The silence after Charles left was thick, heavy with unspoken words and the ghosts of our shared past. Nathan stood frozen in the doorway, his gaze fixed on me, a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes – pain, anger, longing, and a desperate plea for… something I couldn’t decipher.My heart pounded against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the suffocating silence of the mansion. Charles’s words, his warnings about Nathan, echoed in my mind, a venomous chorus that twisted around my heart, poisoning the fragile hope I’d allowed myself to feel.“What are you doing here, Nathan?” I asked, my voice a shaky whisper, a shield against the emotions threatening to overwhelm me.He took a step closer, his gaze intense, his jaw clenched tight. He looked… different. Older, more worn down, the weight of the world etched into the lines around his eyes.“I heard about your father,” he said, his voice rough, the words strained, as if forced from his lips. “I came to… to see how he was
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
Agatha POV:The automatic doors of St. Jude's Hospital slid open with a quiet whoosh, admitting us into the familiar chill of conditioned air, tinged with the unavoidable scent of antiseptic and floor cleaner.Beside me, Charles radiated an almost unnerving enthusiasm, a stark contrast to the knot of apprehension tightening in my stomach."Ready, darling?" He placed a hand on the small of my back, a proprietary gesture that had become disturbingly frequent."Aldo's going to be so thrilled to see you looking so well. And to hear our news, of course.""Charles, we talked about this," I started, trying to keep my voice low, even. "I don't think today is the day to…""Nonsense," he inter
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.