Richard’s POV.It involved Sarah? What does that mean? The TV flickered on, and Martin stepped aside, giving me a clear view. My head was still spinning from the argument with Susan, but the moment I saw the headline flash across the screen, all thoughts of her vanished.“Vitalé Wellness CEO Sarah Williams Makes Waves in New Markets”Sarah’s face filled the screen, and I froze.“What the fuck is going on, Sarah is the CEO of Vitale?” I asked no one in particular.She was sitting at some press event, dressed in a sleek, fitted suit that made her look more confident than I ever remembered. Her smile was calm, and collected, like she had everything figured out. She leaned forward slightly as a reporter asked her something, and when she answered, it was like watching someone else entirely.And then, out of nowhere, he appeared.Wesley.Wesley freaking Stan, sitting right beside her with that smug grin on his face. My heart dropped to my stomach, and for a second, I couldn’t even proces
Richard’s POVI sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the city lights outside the window. The penthouse was too quiet, too cold. Susan had left hours ago, angry at me for not going to her stupid party. I couldn’t focus on her anymore. All I could think about was Sarah.I don’t know when it started, this gnawing feeling in my gut. Maybe it was when I saw her in the news a few weeks ago, sitting next to Wesley. Smiling. Confidence. Happy. And that’s what twisted me up inside. Happy. Without me.I shook my head, trying to push it away, but the thoughts kept coming back. I thought being with Susan was the right thing. I thought she would fit into my life better, that she wouldn’t ask for too much. But now, sitting here alone, it hit me like a slap in the face. I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I sighed and reached for my phone on the nightstand. My thumb hovered over Sarah’s name in the contacts. I hadn’t deleted it yet, even after the divorce. Maybe I didn't think of i
Richard’s pov.The sun was barely up when I woke up the next day, but it didn’t matter. I hadn’t slept much anyway. The bed felt too big. Too empty.Susan hadn’t come home after our argument. I didn’t call her either. What for? If I was leaving for Madrid today, the last thing I needed was to deal with her creating more drama. She’d probably scream about me flying halfway across the world to see my ex-wife. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. What did I even see in her? I walked over to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. I stared at myself in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes. My hair is a mess. I didn’t look like the man people expected to see when they thought of Richard Wright, the billionaire, the businessman. No. I looked like someone who had lost control. Someone who had screwed up.I grabbed a towel, wiped my face, and headed downstairs. The house was too quiet, the silence almost deafening. I hated it. As I poured myself a cup of coffee, my phone
Sarah’s pov.I stood in the middle of the buzzing office trying to focus on the stack of paperwork in front of me, but my mind was miles away. The past few weeks had been exhausting, with the press conference taking a toll on me. We are about to reveal our latest products at the business event in two days' time. It was supposed to be the big reveal, something we had worked months on perfecting. But today, something went wrong—horribly wrong.I glanced over at the clock. It was already past 10 a.m., and the day was just beginning. The formulator had screwed up. Again.My hand trembled as I reached for the clipboard. Weeks of sleepless nights flashed before my eyes—this couldn't be happening, not now. If this formula didn't work, we were finished. My throat tightened as I scanned the data, the numbers blurring. A knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts. “Come in,” I called, my voice sounding more tired than I intended.“Sarah, there’s an issue with the latest batch,” Nina, o
Richard Pov.The party in Madrid was a spectacle of wealth and power, but none of it mattered. I wasn’t here for the schmoozing or the deals. I was here for one reason: Sarah.She had been on my mind constantly, but tonight felt different. The organizers had asked me to make a grand entrance, to be the center of attention, but I’d declined. I didn’t want the spotlight. I had told them to exclude my name in the list of business people; that way Wesley wouldn't be aware and then stop Sarah from coming.Wesley fucking Kent thought I wouldn't be invited or attend because of the derailing position of my company in the market.I stood near the bar, scanning the room, searching for her. Sarah. She was supposed to be here tonight, with Wesley. The thought of them together sent a pulse of jealousy through me that I couldn’t ignore.I wanted to watch, to see what Sarah was doing, how she was acting… with him.The night was still young, and I had already spoken to a few people. Nothing impor
Sarah’s Pov.The morning light gushed through the curtains of my apartment but I didn’t feel any warmth. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind still buzzing with last night’s events. The party. Richard. Richard! Noone told me he was going to be at the event. I didn't see his name amongst the list of businessmen.My mind hadn't crossed it to ask if he would be attending. I sat up, running a hand through my hair. The argument with Richard had left a bitter taste in my mouth. Seeing him again had stirred emotions I thought I’d buried. He looked more tired than I've known him while we were together.And the things he said... I couldn’t stop hearing his voice, accusing me, and blaming me. But there was more to it. His eyes. The way he looked at me, like I was someone he’d lost. I didn’t want to think about him, yet here I was, unable to shake him from my thoughts. You both are divorced. He had moved on. He has a fiancee now. I tried speaking sense to myself.But then if he w
Sarah’s pov.The sun was up when I woke up. I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in hand, rereading Richard’s message over and over.“Wesley’s been using you, Sarah. He’s my rival. That’s the only reason he got close to you.”It didn’t make sense. Wesley? My Wesley? The man who had been there for me when I needed support the most? The same man who helped me launch my business, who believed in me? My stomach twisted as the doubt began creeping in. I replayed everything Wesley had said, all those times he praised my work. Was it all just a ploy?I got up and started pacing, trying to make sense of it. Richard and Wesley had never crossed paths in front of me. I hadn’t known they were rivals, though Richard was always private about his business dealings. But now that I thought about it, I remembered asking Wesley months ago why he was so interested in helping me. He’d just smiled and said, “I see potential in you, Sarah. You’ve got something special.”I never questioned it at the time
Sarah’s POV.The cafe was cozy, with soft lighting and the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Wesley was already seated at a corner table, his usual spot, looking relaxed and content. As I walked in, I felt the tension in my chest grow. I’d been replaying Richard’s message in my mind over and over again, trying to make sense of it, but nothing sat right. Could Wesley really be using me to get back at Richard? It seemed impossible. He had always been so kind, so supportive. But then again, why would Richard make something like that up?Wesley smiled as I approached the table, standing to greet me with a hug. His touch was normally comforting but it felt strangely foreign today. I forced a smile in return, but my mind was racing.“Hey, you,” Wesley said, his voice warm. “You look tired. Is everything okay?”I hesitated for a moment before answering. “Just... a lot on my mind.” I wasn’t ready to let him know what was really bothering me. I needed to be sure,
Richard pov.The weeks that followed were like a dream, the kind of dream I never wanted to wake up from. Sarah’s recovery was nothing short of miraculous. She was her old self again—strong, radiant, and filled with the kind of joy that seemed to light up any room she entered. And our daughter? She was growing so fast, already wrapping us—and everyone else—in her tiny fingers. But the best part of it all? We were finally preparing for our wedding. Sarah wanted something small and intimate, just us and our closest family and friends. She’d always talked about having a garden wedding, surrounded by nature, with the sun setting in the background. And that’s exactly what we were going to do. The morning was a flurry of activity. Zoe was in charge of decorations, barking orders at Martins, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Martins, the flowers go on the left,” Zoe said, hands on her hips. “They look fine where they are,” Martins shot back, holding up a bouquet of
Richard pov.Weeks passed. Life felt like a blur of hospital visits, endless updates from doctors, and quiet moments spent in Sarah’s room. I was there every day, holding her hand, speaking softly to her, willing her to wake up. Zoe and Martins tried their best to keep things light whenever they visited, cracking jokes or telling stories, but even they couldn’t hide their worry. The NICU had become another constant in my life. Our daughter was thriving despite her premature birth, a tiny fighter who seemed determined to make it through. I’d visit her every evening after sitting with Sarah, watching her tiny chest rise and fall under the glow of the incubator’s lights. She was the only glimmer of hope in an otherwise dark time. “Hey, little one,” I whispered one night, my hand resting on the incubator. “Your mom’s going to wake up soon. She has to. She wouldn’t leave us like this.” It was a quiet morning when the miracle happened. I was sitting in Sarah’s room, flipping through
Richard pov.The morning of the trial felt heavy. I left the hospital earlier than usual, making sure Zoe would stay with Sarah. Despite the overwhelming dread, there was a part of me that felt strangely numb, as if my emotions had run dry after weeks of worry and anger. Martins met me outside the courthouse, impeccably dressed in his usual sharp suit. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, his touch grounding. “Today’s a big step forward,” he said. “Remember, this trial is about getting justice, not reopening wounds. You’re here to see Susan held accountable, not to punish yourself for her actions.”I nodded, though his words didn’t settle the unease churning in my gut. The courtroom was cold, and even though I’d prepared myself for this moment, seeing Susan seated across the room made my stomach twist. She didn’t look like someone riddled with guilt; she looked indifferent, like this was just another ordinary day. The prosecution opened with a detailed timeline of events, recou
Richard pov.The call from the police came just after dawn, jarring me awake in the cold, uncomfortable chair next to Sarah’s hospital bed. I fumbled with my phone, heart pounding as I stepped into the hallway to answer.“We’ve located Susan,” the officer said. “She’s in custody. We’d like you to come down to the station.”My grip tightened around the phone. The relief I felt was fleeting, quickly replaced by anger. “I’ll be there,” I said, my voice low.Zoe appeared beside me as I hung up. She had been sitting with Sarah through the night, taking turns with Martins to ensure I wasn’t alone. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but her concern for Sarah mirrored my own.“Was that about Susan?” she asked.I nodded. “They’ve got her. I’m heading to the station.”“I’m coming with you,” she said firmly.“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Stay here. I need someone I trust to be with Sarah.”She hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. But keep me updated.”When I arrived at the police station, Martin
Richard pov.The cold, sterile environment of the police station did nothing to settle the unease that had been gnawing at me since Sarah’s fall. Sitting across from Isabelle in the small interrogation room only amplified it. She looked different—disheveled, almost feral—but her eyes still held that same unhinged intensity I remembered from before. Martins sat beside me, arms crossed, his body language radiating skepticism and disgust. The officer standing by the door had warned us to keep the conversation civil, but I wasn’t here to trade pleasantries. “Why, Isabelle?” My voice was steady, but my hands clenched into fists under the table. “Why did you hurt Sarah?” She tilted her head, a slow, deliberate movement that made my skin crawl. Then, she smiled—a twisted, almost childlike grin. “She wanted to take you from me,” she said, her tone eerily calm. I blinked, the sheer absurdity of her words momentarily robbing me of speech. “Take me from you? Isabelle, how many times
Richard pov.Morning came soon. The soft hum of the machines in Sarah’s room provided a false sense of calm, but every beep reminded me she was hanging on by a thread. My chest felt heavy with every passing second, waiting for her to open her eyes, to tell me everything would be okay. Zoe and Martins stayed close, their presence quiet but steady. Zoe would occasionally bring coffee or attempt to distract me with updates on the baby, but my focus stayed on Sarah.Martins had taken over the logistics—coordinating with hospital staff, keeping everyone updated, and ensuring the security team outside wasn’t slacking. It was just after 7 a.m. when my phone buzzed in my pocket, the vibration snapping me out of my daze. I saw the caller ID and immediately stepped out of the room to take the call. “This better be good,” I snapped, my voice low but sharp. “Mr. Wright,” a familiar voice responded—it was Derek, head of my security team. “We’ve apprehended Isabelle.” The words didn’t re
Richard povThe living room buzzed with life—laughter, the clinking of glasses, and warm chatter filled the air. Guests had arrived, carrying brightly wrapped gifts and wide smiles. It should have been a joyful day, a celebration of new life. But all I could feel was unease twisting in my gut like a knot that wouldn’t come undone. Martins nudged me as I stood by the window, eyes darting to the security guards stationed discreetly outside. “Hey, CIA,” he joked, his tone light. “You might wanna dial it down before Sarah figures out you’ve turned the baby shower into a covert operation.” I managed a thin smile. “Just being cautious.” Martins chuckled. “Yeah, cautious is your middle name. You’re so tense, you might scare the baby into coming early.” His humor didn’t land. I couldn’t shake the image of Sarah falling down those stairs from my mind—a thought that had no basis but still felt like an omen. Isabelle was out there. I didn’t know where, and that made her a threat.
Sarah pov.I woke up feeling like I was floating on air. Memories of last night flooded back—the soft glow of fairy lights, Richard’s face as he knelt before me, the ring that sparkled on my finger. I glanced at my hand, letting the sunlight catch the diamond, and smiled. It still felt surreal. The baby stirred, a gentle nudge reminding me she was there. “Good morning, little one,” I murmured, rubbing my belly. She responded with another kick, and my heart swelled. Today was going to be beautiful, filled with friends and laughter at the baby shower. But as I climbed out of bed and pulled on a robe, a faint unease settled in the back of my mind. Something I couldn’t quite place. When I reached the kitchen, the smell of coffee and the sound of laughter greeted me. Zoe was sitting at the counter, holding a steaming mug, while Martins leaned back in his chair, mid-joke. “Ah, our glowing bride-to-be!” Martins said with exaggerated flair, waving his hands like a magician. I roll
Richard pov.It had been a month since our trip to the nearby town. Sarah was now in her eighth month, and every day, I marveled at how gracefully she handled the ups and downs of pregnancy. But today was about more than just her strength—it was about giving her a moment to remember forever. I had planned a re-engagement surprise for her, one that would let her know how much she meant to me, now and always.“Martins, hurry up with the banner!” I called out as my best friend tried to figure out which end of the ribbon went where. He muttered something about not being a decorator, but I ignored him.The house was chaotic, but the good kind. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself as I rushed from one end of the living room to the other, adjusting balloons and making sure the decorations didn’t look like a Pinterest project gone wrong. I wanted everything to be perfect for Sarah. After everything we’d been through, she deserved that—and more.“Richard, mate, you need to chill,” Ma