Agatha POV:His lips were warm, soft, a sensation I'd been fighting for weeks. The kiss unfolded slowly, hinting at something deeper than our usual interactions.A hunger I hadn't acknowledged flared within me, a longing that had been under my careful composure. I was losing myself in him, the sounds around us dissolving. For once, strategy didn't matter, control wasn't the goal. It was just… Charles.He broke the kiss, his eyes dark and intense as they searched my face. There was desire there, yes, but also a surprising rawness. It was a rare glimpse behind the charming facade. My carefully constructed walls had crumbled, leaving me feeling exposed.My heart hammered against my ribs, was this genuine? Was Charles a flawed man willing to reveal himself?“Charles,” I breathed, my voice soft against his lips, my fingers instinctively tracing the sharp angle of his jaw.He leaned closer, his breath warm on my skin. “Yes, Agatha?”“What… what was that?” I asked, my tone a blend of diso
Agatha POV:I woke slowly, my senses gradually coming alive.The faint scent of coffee, the distant hum of city traffic, and the solid, reassuring weight of Charles’s arm draped across my waist.He was still asleep, his breathing deep and even, his dark hair tousled against the pillow, a lock falling across his forehead, giving him a vulnerability that was at odds with the ruthless, controlling man I knew he could be.My body remembered the feel of his skin against mine, the way he’d whispered my name, a mix of desire and a possessiveness that both thrilled and terrified me.But my mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the past few days – Nathan’s tearful confession, James’s cryptic warnings, Camille’s unexpected departure, my father's illness, and the weight of NexGen on my shoulders.And Charles’s confession, his raw vulnerability as he spoke about his mother, his childhood, his pain. It had moved me, shaken me, made me question everything I thought I knew about him.He stirr
Charles POV:Camille's scent, a faint trace of baby powder and something floral, lingered in the air long after she left. Agatha stood by the window, her back to me, her silhouette framed against the sprawling cityscape. My jaw clenched. I’d lost control of the situation. Of her. Again. The carefully constructed plan, the image of myself as the supportive, understanding lover, was crumbling.Jealousy, hot and sharp, clawed at my gut.It wasn't just Nathan anymore. Now it was Camille, the woman carrying his child, who seemed to have a strange power over Agatha."Why, Agatha?" I asked, my voice barely masked the storm brewing inside me. "Why are you helping her? She’s the one who helped ruin your marriage.”She turned, her eyes, usually sparkling with intelligence and a hint of mischief, were clouded with a compassion I found… irritating."My marriage was already ruined, Charles," she said, her voice flat. "It takes two people to make it work, and it also takes two people to make i
Nathan POV:My office, once a symbol of my power and success, now felt like a cage. The walls, lined with framed photos of past triumphs – the groundbreaking of the new Richards Tower, the signing of the lucrative deal with some European firm, handshakes with former presidents – now seemed to mock me. Each image was a reminder of a life I no longer recognized, a future that had slipped through my fingers like sand.The silence was the worst. It amplified the storm raging inside me, the storm I was barely keeping at bay.Camille’s words, a poisonous cocktail of truth and manipulation, echoed in my head. She’d left me, taken my child, and somehow, twisted it all to make me the villain. She’d laid it all out, making it seem like I didn't even visit my daughter and that I didn’t care about her.And the worst part? She’d done it all with the help of James Wei, that snake.My hand tightened around the worn leather of my desk blotter, the only familiar comfort in this spiraling chaos. It
Charles POV:The phone felt heavy in my hand, the smooth surface slick with a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the humid air. Richards’s voice, desperate and raw, echoed in my mind, a discordant note in the carefully orchestrated symphony of my life.“Campbell. It’s Richards. We need to talk. It’s about Agatha. And James Wei. I know everything.”Everything? What did he mean by that? How much did he know?My carefully constructed plans, the intricate web I’d woven around Agatha, were they about to unravel?Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at the edges of my composure. I forced it down, replacing it with a mask of calm indifference.“Richards,” I said, my voice smooth, controlled, a stark contrast to the frantic beating of my heart. “What a… pleasant surprise. To what do I owe this unexpected call?”“Don’t play coy with me, Campbell,” he snarled, his voice a low growl, laced with a desperation that sent a shiver down my spine.“I know about James. About what he did. About what you’
Charles POV:The boardroom buzzed with the low murmur of hushed conversations, the clinking of champagne flutes, and the scratching of pens against crisp, expensive paper.The air thrummed with a potent mix of relief, anticipation, and the subtle undercurrent of rivalry that always permeated these high-stakes gatherings.We’d done it. The partnership between Campbell Enterprises and NexGen was official. Signed, sealed, and delivered.My gaze drifted to Agatha, who was standing across the room, accepting congratulations from a gaggle of board members and investors.She looked radiant, her emerald green dress a vibrant splash of color against the muted tones of the boardroom.Her smile was dazzling, her laughter a melodic counterpoint to the dull hum of business chatter.But even from across the room, I could see the shadows in her eyes, the lingering sadness that clung to her like a second skin.The weight of her father’s illness, the messy drama with Nathan, and now the added pressure
Agatha POV:The salty air whipped through my hair, carrying with it the rhythmic roar of the ocean. We were strolling along the beach, hand in hand, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple. It was magical, a scene ripped straight from a movie, and a stark contrast to the sterile hospital rooms and tense board meetings that had consumed my life lately.Charles had been true to his word. He’d whisked me away on a spontaneous getaway, a much-needed escape from the pressures of NexGen, the lingering shadow of Nathan, and the ever-present questions surrounding James.He’d rented a secluded beach house, a cozy haven nestled among the dunes, with panoramic ocean views and the sound of crashing waves as a constant lullaby.“Remember the last time we were at the beach together?” he asked, his thumb stroking the back of my hand, a touch that sent shivers down my spine.A laugh escaped my lips, a light, carefree sound I hadn’t realized I was capable of making anymo
Charles POV:"Pathetic, isn't he?"Councilman Hayes's words, laced with disdain, cut through the polite murmur of the charity gala. I didn't need to turn to know who he was referring to.I followed his gaze across the room, a wry smile playing on my lips. Nathan Richards, the once-mighty heir to the Richards empire, was a shadow of his former self. He stood alone by the bar, his usually impeccable suit rumpled, his tie loosened, his hair disheveled, his gaze fixed on Agatha with a desperate, almost predatory intensity.He looked like a caged animal, pacing back and forth, his eyes darting around the room, a mixture of anger, frustration, and a raw, exposed vulnerability that was almost… painful to watch."He's losing it, Charles," Hayes continued, his voice a low, conspiratorial murmur. "The company's in shambles, his family's turning against him, and now… this."He gestured towards Nathan with a subtle nod of his head."Publicly begging his ex-wife to take him back? It's… embarrass
Charles POV:“Agatha,”I murmured, my voice a soft caress, my hand gently cupping her cheek, my thumb brushing away a stray tear that glistened on her lashes.“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”Her eyes, usually so bright and full of fire, were shadowed, clouded with a worry that twisted my gut. She was pale, her shoulders slumped, her whole body radiating a weariness that went beyond mere exhaustion.“Detectives,” she whispered, the word barely audible, a shudder running through her.“They were here, Charles. Asking questions. About Nathan.”My jaw clenched. Richards. Even
Agatha POV:“Ms. De Rossi?”That deeper voice again, Detective Miller, like gravel rolling downhill. It cut through the office air, making Camille flinch beside me. I forced a smile, plastered and fake, and turned to face them.“Detectives,” I said, cool as I could manage, nodding towards the plush chairs. “Please, come in. Have a seat.”They didn’t move, just stood there, blocking the doorway, Detective Davies’s eyes flicking around my office like he expected Nathan to jump out of the potted plant.“We’re fine standing, Ms. De Rossi,” Miller said, his voice polite but firm. “Just a few questions, if you don’t mind.”Mind? My heart was doing a tango in my chest, but I kept my face smooth. “Of course. Anything to help find Nathan.” Lie. The word tasted like ash in my mouth, but it was necessary.“We understand you saw Mr. Richards rece
Agatha POV:The spreadsheets blurred on my computer screen. Numbers swam before my eyes, and the carefully crafted charts seemed to mock my inability to focus.My office, usually a sanctuary of calm efficiency, felt like a pressure cooker today, the weight of NexGen, the weight of Dad’s health, the weight of everything, pressing down on me.I sighed, pushing back from my desk, the leather chair creaking in protest. Coffee. I needed coffee.Or maybe something stronger.But it was barely past noon, and even as CEO, showing up to a board meeting tipsy wasn’t exactly a power move.Just as I stood up, intending to make a run for the office kitchen, Sarah buzzed
Nathan POV:Another shot of whiskey, neat.The bartender, a burly man with eyes that had seen too much and judged nothing, slid the glass across the polished mahogany bar, his movements practiced, efficient, devoid of any warmth or sympathy.Good. Sympathy was the last thing I needed. Pity was poison.All I needed was the burn of the whiskey, the numbing oblivion it offered, a temporary escape from the relentless torment of my thoughts, the gnawing emptiness that had become my constant companion.Days had bled into weeks since I’d sent the letter to Agatha, a desperate, pathetic plea for forgiveness, for another chance, for a lifeline in the drowning sea of my despair.
Agatha POV:“Agatha, board meeting in five. They’re getting restless.”Sarah’s voice, sharp and efficient, buzzed through the intercom, dragging me back from the swirling vortex of my thoughts.“Thanks, Sarah. I’m on my way.” I replied, sighing and pushing back from my desk. Restless was an understatement.The NexGen board was more like a pack of hungry wolves these days, and I was starting to feel like the main course.But as I gathered my notes, my gaze drifted to the corner of my desk, to the cream-colored envelope leaning against my pen holder.Nathan’s handwriting.My stomach clenched. I hadn't touched it since it arrived yesterday, hadn't dared to open it, hadn't even wanted to admit it existed.But its presence was a heavy weight, a silent accusation that pulled at me no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.Board meeting be damned. I needed to know
Agatha POV:“Agatha, come in, come in! Don’t just stand there like a sentinel, you’re letting all the heat out.”Dad’s voice, though still raspy from weeks of disuse, boomed from the depths of his study, a welcome sound that chased away the lingering chill in my heart.I smiled, shaking my head at his theatrics, and stepped inside, the familiar scent of old books, leather, and his ever-present cigars enveloping me in a comforting embrace.He was sitting in his favorite armchair by the fireplace, a worn leather-bound volume in his lap, his reading glasses perched precariously on his nose.Color had returned to his cheeks, his eyes sparkled with their usual intelligence, and the oxygen tank that had been his constant companion for weeks was now tucked discreetly behind the chair.He looked… like himself again. My father. My rock.“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, a playful glint
Charles POV:“Agatha,”I murmured, my voice soft, drawing out the syllables, letting her name linger in the air between us. “You’re quiet.”She was standing by the window, the city lights reflecting in her dark hair, her silhouette a delicate outline against the dawn sky. Beautiful. Untouchable. Mine.I watched her, a possessive warmth blooming in my chest, chasing away the lingering unease of our earlier conversation.Last night had been… a breakthrough. A turning point. She was mine now, in a way she hadn't been before.“Just thinking,” she replied, her voice a soft whisper, barely audible above the gentle hum of the city waking up.
Agatha POV“Charles, what did you say to Nathan?”The question hung in the air of his penthouse, sharp and direct, a stark contrast to the soft jazz music drifting from hidden speakers, the plush velvet couches, the breathtaking city view framed by the massive windows.I watched him carefully, searching for any flicker of deception in his usually open, confident gaze.He turned from the window, a half-empty glass of amber liquid swirling in his hand, his brow furrowed in what looked like genuine confusion.“Nathan? What are you talking about, Agatha?”“Don’t play games, Charles,” I said, my voice steady, my gaze unwavering. “He
Agatha POV:“Don’t bother calling me again, Agatha.”Nathan’s voice, sharp and cold, sliced through the phone, making me flinch.“What? Nathan, what are you talking about?” I asked, my voice a mix of confusion and a sudden, sharp stab of anxiety. What had happened now?“I said don’t call me,” he repeated, his tone flat, final. “I won’t help you. I won’t help NexGen. Do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.”“Nathan, wait!” I pleaded, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Dad is still in the hospital, NexGen is in trouble, and you’re just… giving up? Now?”