Calvin’s POVStevie is restless again. I can see it in the way she keeps adjusting the blanket on her lap and tapping her fingers against the arm of the couch. She’s trying to hide it, but I know better.“You’re bored,” I say, watching her from across the living room.“No, I’m not,” she replies, her
Stevie’s POVIt’s too quiet in the penthouse. The kind of quiet that makes you feel small, even in a place this massive. Calvin left early for a meeting, saying he’d be back by lunch, but it’s already 2 p.m., and I haven’t heard a word from him.Not that I care.Okay, maybe I care a little.I pace a
Stevie’s POVThe soft hum of the penthouse’s ventilation system is too damn loud today. Or maybe it’s my own restlessness that’s making me hyper-aware of everything—the sound of my foot tapping against the floor, the faint ticking of a ridiculously expensive clock that Calvin insists is “decorative.
Calvin’s POVThe morning starts like most others these days. I wake up early, review emails over a cup of coffee, and make a mental list of everything I need to get done before the day spirals out of control. Except, today, there’s a weight sitting on my chest that has nothing to do with quarterly r
Stevie’s POVThe envelope looks expensive. Heavy cream-colored paper, embossed gold lettering, and Calvin’s name written in the kind of script that probably costs more than my monthly grocery bill. He’s staring at it like it’s a summons to court.“What is that?” I ask, leaning against the kitchen co
Stevie’s POVThe camera feels good in my hands. Familiar. Steady. It gives me something to focus on other than the weight of a hundred judgmental stares and the deafening hum of old money conversations swirling around me.Through the viewfinder, the Lancaster gala is dazzling. Gilded chandeliers spa
Stevie’s POVThe Lancaster ballroom glitters like something out of a dream, all soft candlelight and crystal reflections. But there’s nothing dreamy about the tension hanging in the air.I’m perched near a grand staircase, scrolling through my shots to make sure they’re not completely trash. Most of
Calvin’s POVVictoria’s stunt stays with me, gnawing at the edges of my patience. The second we left the ballroom, I knew I had to get Stevie away from the stares and whispers. Now, she’s sitting on a plush couch in one of the estate’s private lounges, blotting at her wine-stained dress with a damp
Stevie’s POVElijah is babbling to himself in the living room, gripping one of his stuffed animals by the ear and smacking it against the floor like it personally offended him. His little feet kick excitedly as he sits on his play mat, lost in his own world.I smile, stirring the pasta on the stove
Bill’s POVSterling’s estate looms in the distance, a glass-and-steel fortress perched high in the hills, isolated from the rest of the world. The long driveway leading up to it is lined with evenly spaced trees, so perfectly maintained they don’t look real. There’s something eerie about the silence
Bill’s POVThe club is dark, expensive, and filled with the kind of people who think power is the only currency that matters.I step inside, letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. Everything here is designed to make people feel important—the low hum of conversation, the perfectly aged whiskey,
Serena’s POVI stare at the numbers on my screen, scanning the latest financial reports for Étoile de Collin while trying to ignore the exhaustion creeping in. My eyes blur slightly, but I shake it off and keep going. Every detail needs to be right. Every move has to be airtight. We’re too close now
Calvin’s POVI stand at the top of Titan’s headquarters, my hands resting on the cool glass railing as I look out over the city. The view from here stretches for miles—downtown skyscrapers gleaming in the fading sunlight, the freeway below packed with crawling traffic, the distant haze of the ocean
Serena’s POVCollin’s laughter echoes through the backyard, loud and full, the way only a kid’s laugh can be. It cuts through the evening air, blending with the soft rustling of trees and the occasional gurgle from one of the twins.I take a sip of tea, letting the warmth settle in my chest as I lea
Bill’s POVI throw a punch at the heavy bag, ignoring the sharp pain that shoots through my ribs. My knuckles connect with a solid thud, but it’s not satisfying. Not enough. The ache spreading through my side is a reminder that I should be resting.But I don’t care.I shift my stance and hit the bag
Stevie’s POVI spot Calvin before he sees me.He’s sitting in a booth near the back, leaning against the leather seat with one hand wrapped around a whiskey glass. His sleeves are rolled up, his tie is slightly loosened, and his phone is face-down on the table. He looks… tired, but in a way that’s d
Calvin’s POVI stand at the head of the table, both hands resting on the smooth glass, my fingers pressing into the surface just enough to keep me grounded. Across from me, a dozen board members sit in their usual seats, but the energy in the room is off.Some of them shift slightly, their eyes dart