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
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.