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
Nathan POV:The music was too loud, the laughter too bright, the champagne too bitter.Each clink of a glass, each polite chuckle, each congratulatory pat on Agatha’s back felt like a punch to my gut.I stood in the shadows, a ghost at this opulent feast, watching the life I’d thrown away unfold before my eyes.And there she was, the center of it all, radiant in a black dress that clung to every curve.Agatha.My Agatha.Laughing, smiling, her eyes sparkling with a joy that was no longer meant for me.And Charles. Always Charles.He stood beside her, a constant presence, his hand resting a little too comfortably on the small of her back, his smile a little too intimate, his gaze a little too possessive.He was a serpent, slithering his way into her life, whispering poison in her ear, blinding her with his charm and carefully constructed lies.Each time he touched her, a fresh wave of rage, hot and thick, washed over me, threatening to drown me in its intensity.Each time she laughed a
Agatha POV:The cool night air was a welcome balm against my heated skin, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the ballroom.The charity gala, a whirlwind of forced smiles, polite conversations, and the clinking of champagne glasses, had left me feeling drained, emotionally exhausted.I leaned against the railing of the terrace, the cold metal a grounding presence beneath my fingertips.I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to find a moment of peace, a sliver of clarity amidst the storm raging within me.The partnership with Campbell Enterprises was a success, a strategic victory that had secured NexGen’s future, or at least, bought us some time.But the triumph felt hollow, overshadowed by the personal turmoil that seemed to follow me like a shadow.Nathan’s desperate attempts to win me back, Charles’s increasingly possessive behavior, James’s cryptic warnings, and now Camille’s raw vulnerability and unexpected kindness – it was all too much, a tangled web of emoti
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.