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Ivonne’s POV I blinked up at Hector, my heart pounding so loud I could practically hear it in my ears. His face was right there, so close I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw and the hint of amusement softening his usual stern expression. His hand was still on my waist from where we’d fallen, his thumb brushing against the fabric of my dress. For a heartbeat, everything stilled, the laughter, the breeze, even my breath.If I moved just a little more, we'd be kissing..... And then my brain finally snapped back to reality and I froze.What the hell am I doing?I jerked back like I’d been burned, scrambling off him so fast that I nearly tripped again. “S-sorry!” I blurted, brushing nonexistent dust off my shirt.Hector propped himself up on his elbows, still on the grass, looking slightly dazed and definitely disappointed. He gave me a crooked grin, the kind that made my stomach flip. “You don’t have to apologize, Ivonne. It’s not like I complained.”I gawked at him,
Ivonne’s POVI had a hundred guesses about where Hector was taking me, and every single one of them involved something… expensive.A rooftop restaurant, maybe. Or a vineyard with private tastings. Something classy and quiet — the kind of place where a man could “accidentally” impress you without admitting he was trying to.He was the calm, controlled type, but I’d seen that subtle gleam of mischief in his eyes this morning. And after Lora’s little fashion ambush, I was sure this was all part of some carefully planned surprise.So when the car began slowing down… and I looked out the window…My jaw dropped.This wasn’t fancy. Not even close.The smooth, glossy streets of the upper city were long gone. Instead, we were surrounded by narrow, uneven roads and rows of old brick buildings that had seen better decades. Laundry lines stretched between cracked balconies, and children ran barefoot in the dusty street, chasing a deflated ball.The car stopped beside a faded bakery with half its
Ivonne’s POVKnock. Knock. Knock.The sound felt like someone hammering inside my skull. I groaned, shifting under the soft covers and burying my face in the pillow. Who the hell was knocking this early?“Miss Ivonne?” Lora’s voice came through the door, way too cheerful for someone who clearly didn’t value peace and quiet. “Are you awake?”I blinked, forcing my eyes open. Light flooded my room and burned into my eyelids. Wait—light?I shot up. “What time is it?”Lora opened the door, smiling like sunshine. “Almost eleven, miss.”“Eleven?!” I scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over the sheets. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier? I have work! I have to go to the office—”“Miss,” Lora interrupted gently, trying not to laugh. “It’s Saturday.”I froze mid-panic. “Saturday?”She nodded, amused. “Yes, ma’am. You don’t have to go in today.”“Oh.” I stared at her, the panic dissolving into something like embarrassment. I slowly sank back onto the edge of the bed, rubbing my face. “Right. Satu
Ivonne's pov He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You have no idea what you just invited into that house.”I shook my head at the fear in his tone. I was confident in my decision. “I invited peace,” I said. “And a chance for us to control the story.” Lincoln didn’t argue, but I saw the shadow cross his eyes. Something about that woman terrified him still and I didn’t blame him. He’d never escaped her, not really. The silence stretched again, thick with unspoken things. Finally, I broke it. “Listen,” I said, turning slightly toward him. “You don’t have to like me, and I don’t need you to be my friend. But if we’re going to work under the same roof for three months, then stop sabotaging me. Don’t get in my way.” His jaw tightened, but he nodded once. “Fine.” I studied him a moment longer, trying to decide if he actually meant it. I wasn’t sure. The car slowed as we reached the manor gates. I leaned back, exhausted. I hadn’t realized how tense my body had been until now.
Ivonne’s POV“Miss Ivonne! Miss Ivonne!”The reporters were everywhere—flashing lights, shouting questions, microphones shoved so close I could barely breathe.“Why did you two abandon Lincoln’s mother?” one of them yelled.“Is it true she’s been begging to return to the manor and you refused?” another asked.“You inherited everything—how could you refuse to give her a share?”My stomach twisted. Each question was so much more bloody annoying than the last, hitting like little stones. The name “Lincoln’s mother” echoed again and again, like they were deliberately using it as a weapon.“She was his mother and your mother in law!” one reporter screamed, his face red. “And you two kicked her out of her own home!”I blinked under the flashes, forcing myself to stay calm. Around me, the noise rose higher, the crowd pressing closer. Sevrin had his arm out in front of me, keeping the worst of them away, but Lincoln looked completely frozen. Pale. Lost.He wasn’t hearing them anymore—he was
Ivonne’s POVLarry and Denise stood with me outside the board room.“Alright,” I said, setting my files down on a nearby desk. “Denise, I need you to start gathering every single piece of data on our former clients demographics—age, income level, region, and spending patterns over the last five years. Include subscription trends and withdrawal rates.”Denise nodded quickly. “On it. Do you want me to get the marketing numbers too?”“Yes,” I said, thinking fast. “Especially the online engagement stats. I want to know which of our competitors are stealing our younger market. Every campaign, every product line—they’re taking something from us. Find out what it is.”“Got it,” she said, already typing on her tablet.Larry cleared his throat and gestured toward the far end of the hallway. “Before you drown yourself in work, come with me. There’s something you need to see.”I followed him, confused. We stopped in front of a set of double glass doors. He pushed them open and smiled faintly.“Y








