LOGINMannie's Point of View
Outside on the dim, quiet patio, I didn't move. I stood perfectly still, my breathing shallow, listening to the muffled thump of the bass fr
When Mannie finally arrived home that evening, the heavy front door barely had time to click shut before her eight children swarmed her like a pack of enthusiastic puppies. They grabbed her hands, pulled her toward the living room, and showered her with loud, unreserved compliments."Mom! You're going to look amazing," Nate, her eldest, declared proudly, his sharp, stormy eyes reflecting total confidence. "Nobody is going to be able to take their eyes off you. You're the coolest dancer in the whole wide world!"
Unable to convince Mannie over the phone, Beth decided that talking was no longer enough. She grabbed her car keys, drove straight to the Xia family home, and marched through the front door determined to recruit the ultimate backup: Mannie’s eight children.The afternoon sunlight streamed through the living room windows, illuminating a house that was usually a whirlwind of chaotic energy. Mannie’s mother was sitting in her favorite armchair, loudly complaining about some minor household grievance, while the children were scattered around the room playing quietly.
Mannie's Point of ViewThe studio speakers vibrated with a heavy, pulsating bass, shaking the polished wooden floorboards beneath my sneakers as I executed the final, razor-sharp counts of the choreography. My chest heaved with the heavy, satisfying burn of exertion, and sweat trickled down the back of my neck. In exactly one week, Dominic’s Group would host its legendary annual visitor day. President Dominic himself, accompanied by an entourage
Mannie's Point of View Outside on the dim, quiet patio, I didn't move. I stood perfectly still, my breathing shallow, listening to the muffled thump of the bass from the reception hall vibrating against the thick glass.Slowly, I raised my right hand and opened my tightly clenched fist. Resting perfectly in the center of my pale palm was a single, long strand of dark black hair.
Mannie's Point of View The community hall had been transformed into a chaotic sea of white tulle, cheap champagne, and aggressively loud traditional music. Thanks to my mother’s completely unhinged lie about the billionaire president of David’s Group, my family was practically holding court at the absolute best table in the room. Relatives who had spent the last decade whispering about my life choices were now practically tripping over the
Mannie's Point of View I had completely blocked off this entire weekend. After the absolute circus of Fiona’s dinner party, all I wanted to do was lock the front door, turn off my phone, and spend two quiet, uninterrupted days with my children. I had promised them movie marathons, homemade pizza, and absolutely zero drama.But, as usual, my mother had an entirely different script in mind.
The cold wind hit my face the moment I stepped out of the bar. I looked left and right, scanning the sidewalk. She was already at the edge of the street, wrapping a scarf around her neck, clearly in a rush to leave.“Wait,” I called.She stopped, stiffened, and turned slowly.Her eyes met mine agai
The dim light of the bar gave everything a grainy hue. Music still echoed faintly from the cheap speakers, but my mind was fixed on one thing—the woman who had just stepped off the stage.She wasn’t like the others. There was something deeply strange about her outfit—layers of mismatched clothing t
Dominic’s PovThe doors of the private terminal at City A Airport slid open with a hiss as I stepped into the humid air, the city’s noise and scent rushing at me all at once. I hated this place. Too loud. Too crowded. Too human.Still, I drew attention—of course I did.Women turned. Whispers flew.
Zarah’s POVThe chandelier sparkled like diamonds overhead as I dipped my spoon into a bowl of golden pear compote. The velvet curtains swayed lightly with the breeze, the scent of fresh orchids wafting from every corner of the grand estate. I was draped in a silk robe worth more than my old apar







