Stevie’s POVI’m sitting on the edge of my bathtub, staring at a little stick on the counter like it’s a grenade about to go off. My hands are shaking. My heart feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest.It’s been three minutes.Three. Long. Fucking. Minutes.The instructions said that’
Bill’s POVSerena’s doing that thing again.The thing where she picks at her food but doesn’t actually eat it. She pushes the salad around her plate, stabbing a cherry tomato like it insulted her mother. I lean back in my chair, watching her, trying to figure out if this is work stress or something
Stevie’s POVI shouldn’t have worn these heels.It’s the first thing I think as I step into the ballroom, my feet already protesting the dumb idea of combining sky-high stilettos and a body that feels like it’s actively rebelling against me. My stomach’s been on the verge of staging a full-blown mut
Serena’s POVI spot Stevie slipping out of the ballroom as I’m finishing up a conversation with a PR exec. She moves quickly, almost like she’s trying not to be seen, but I know her too well. The slight wobble in her steps, the way she clutches her bag like it’s holding her together — it’s a dead gi
Calvin’s POVI see her before she sees me.Stevie’s stepping out of the building, her bag slung over her shoulder, sunglasses perched on her nose. She looks like she’s trying to blend into the crowd, which is almost funny considering Stevie Malone doesn’t exactly do subtle.“Stevie,” I call, walking
Stevie’s POVI’m pacing my living room, muttering to myself like a lunatic.“Calvin, listen—no, that’s too polite.” I stop and shake my head, trying again. “Look, Calvin, I don’t owe you an explanation. That’s better. Straight to the point. No room for debate.”I glance at the mirror above my couch
Calvin’s POVFatherhood.The word keeps bouncing around my head, refusing to settle. It feels foreign, heavy. Like trying on a jacket that doesn’t fit but knowing you’re stuck wearing it anyway.I stare out the window of my office, watching the city buzz below. Cars honk. People hustle. Life moves o
Serena’s POVThe office feels quieter than usual. Maybe it’s the late hour or the fact that most people have already gone home. But as I glance across the room at Stevie, hunched over her laptop, I know something’s off.She’s always had a way of pushing through, of pretending everything’s fine when
Calvin’s POVI’ve been staring at her address on my phone for ten minutes, trying to work up the courage to get out of the car. It’s ridiculous. I’ve faced down corporate takeovers and boardroom ambushes without flinching, but this? This feels harder.Stevie’s apartment building looms in front of me
Bill’s POVThe sound of waves crashing against the shore is a far cry from the usual buzz of our daily lives. No conference calls, no meetings, no tantrums over spilled cereal. Just the ocean, the wind, and Collin’s laughter as he runs across the sand, a kite string gripped tightly in his little han
Calvin’s POVThe waiting room at Stevie’s doctor’s office isn’t anything like I expected. It’s bright and cheerful, with pastel walls and outdated parenting magazines scattered across the coffee tables. A little kid toddles past me, clutching a stuffed giraffe, while his mom trails behind him with a
Serena’s POVStevie’s apartment smells like fresh paint and coffee, an oddly comforting combination that suits her. The space is small, cluttered with photography equipment and stacks of unopened baby gear, but it feels like her. It’s messy and lived-in, nothing like Calvin’s sterile penthouse.I kn
Calvin’s POVThe penthouse feels bigger now, emptier. It’s strange how silence can take up so much space, filling every corner and amplifying the absence of things you didn’t realize you depended on.Stevie’s laughter used to echo in this place, sharp and unfiltered, bouncing off the marble floors l
Serena’s POVThe room hums with energy, the kind of buzz that comes from a carefully curated crowd of media, industry insiders, and investors. Cameras flash as I step onto the stage, my heels clicking against the polished floor. The Etoile de Collin logo glows behind me, larger than life, and for a
Stevie’s POVThe smell of my old apartment hits me as soon as I walk in — a mix of stale coffee, forgotten photo chemicals, and the faintest whiff of lavender from a candle I never finished burning. It’s not the penthouse, that’s for damn sure. No floor-to-ceiling windows or marble countertops here
Serena’s POVThe soft morning light filters through the kitchen windows as I stare down at my cup of tea. Bill is standing across from me, obliviously humming some tune while buttering a slice of toast. He looks so relaxed, like he doesn’t have a care in the world, and I’m over here trying not to sp
Stevie’s POVThe magazine is on the coffee table, taunting me like it knows it hit a nerve.The headline? Calvin Lancaster’s Baby Mama: Meet the Woman Who Stole the Billionaire’s Heart.The article? A mix of lies, half-truths, and one semi-decent photo of me that I’m 90% sure they pulled from Calvin