BLURB In a world where power, wealth and betrayal intertwine, Isabel reclaims her place among the elite after years of being hidden in the shadows. The very people who thought they’d rid themselves of Isabel, are in for the shock of their lives when she steps back into their world. Now, as the long-lost daughter of the prestigious Montgomery family, she’s ready to face her enemies—starting with her ex-husband, Alexander. The man who discarded her after an affair with her best friend. As old wounds reopen and dangerous secrets come to light, the question remains—will Isabel’s heart betray her thirst for vengeance? Or will she finally bring down those who sought to destroy her once and for all? The final act of this twisted game will be one no one sees coming.
View MoreIsabel’s POVThe room is calm, draped in warm lighting that bathes the sleek, modern studio in soft gold. A camera blinks its red recording light as I sit poised, hands resting lightly on my lap. Across from me, the announcer smiles, her polished tone directed toward the camera.“Welcome, viewers. Today, we have an extraordinary guest—Claire Montgomery, the CEO of LM Group.”Her voice carries admiration, and the words echo in the stillness of the studio. “Claire is known not only for her groundbreaking leadership but for her remarkable journey. Thank you for joining us today, Claire.”I return her smile, tilting my head gracefully. “Thank you for having me. It’s a pleasure to be here and share this time with you.”The announcer’s gaze softens as she leans forward slightly, speaking with sincerity. “Your story is nothing short of incredible. To reconnect with your family after so many years, knowing they searched tirelessly for you… How does that feel?”I take a steadying breath, my fi
Isabel’s POVThe warmth of my morning coffee seeps through the ceramic mug, comforting my hands as I wander through the house in my flip-flops. The faint echo of my steps against the polished marble floors is my only companion until I catch sight of my mother in the living room, her posture straight, her lips pressed tight, phone in hand.“Claire,” she calls out, her tone clipped yet soft, the way she always does when she’s unsure how I’ll react. “It’s your dad. He wants to speak with you.”My heart skips, the mug trembling slightly in my grip. I force myself to swallow, but the unease creeps in. I glance at her, searching her face for an explanation, but she offers none, her shoulders lifting in a quick shrug as if to say, Don’t look at me. I don’t know.The last thing I remember is her promising not to tell him. And now this? My pulse quickens, but I manage a shaky breath, hurrying toward her. “Here,” she says, holding out the phone with a look that’s half-apology, half-encouragemen
Alexander’s POVI step into the house, the heavy silence greeting me like an unwelcome guest. The hallway stretches before me, dimly lit, shadows clinging to the edges of the walls. My steps slow as I steady myself, bracing for what comes next. I know she’s here. I can feel her presence, like static in the air before a storm.And then I see her—Cynthia. Pacing the living room like a restless predator, her heels clicking against the floor in a rhythm that grates on my nerves. Her movements are sharp, deliberate, and when she spots me standing in the doorway, she freezes, her gaze locking onto mine.I sigh, the weight of her impending tirade already pressing down on me. I don’t have the energy for this. Not tonight. Not ever. Without a word, I start moving, intent on passing her without acknowledging her presence.But her voice stops me.“Alexander.”It’s sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. I halt, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. Of course, she wouldn’t let me go that easi
Alexander’s POVI stand outside the door, staring at the smooth wooden surface as if it holds the answers to my hesitation. Christine’s words echo in my head: She’s awake now.I should go in.I shouldn’t.The decision feels heavier than it should, like the air pressing against my chest. My hand brushes against the doorknob, then drops back to my side. Why the hell am I hesitating? It’s just a conversation—acknowledge she’s fine, exchange a few words, and leave. That’s it.Finally, I knock, the sound sharper than I intended, and push the door open.The stares hit me first. Mrs. Montgomery’s, cool and guarded, and Claire’s, fleeting yet piercing in its own way. The air shifts, weighted by their gazes. I push it down—the unease, the way my chest tightens. I’m here for a reason. Say what needs to be said and leave.“Mrs. Montgomery,” I greet, giving her a polite nod.Her lips press together in a faint line before she speaks. “Thank you for bringing Claire to the hospital.” Her words are m
Isabel’s POVThe air in the room feels heavier as my mother shifts slightly in her seat, her gaze following Alexander as he walks deeper into the room. Her face doesn’t reveal much—neutral as always—but there’s a flicker of unease, just enough for me to notice. She’s good at masking her feelings, but I know her well enough to sense her discomfort at seeing him here.Christine, ever efficient, nods almost immediately, slipping out of the room without a second thought. I watch her go, the click of her heels echoing softly before the door shuts behind her.Alexander stops a few feet away from where my mother sits. “Mrs. Montgomery,” he greets her, his tone formal but measured.My mother presses her lips into a thin line, her expression momentarily tightening as if debating what to say or do next. She clears her throat, her voice flat but laced with an attempt at politeness. “Thanks for bringing my daughter right on time to the hospital.” The words feel forced, her tone unable to mask the
Isabel’s POVThe sterile scent of antiseptic fills my nostrils as my eyes flutter open, blinking against the light of the room. My gaze sweeps over the white walls, the bright fluorescent lights, and the dull silver fixtures—it’s unmistakable. A hospital room.I turn my head slightly, the effort pulling a groan from my lips, and that’s when I see her. My mother. She’s seated beside me, her fingers trembling against the edge of the chair, her face a mask of worry and exhaustion.“Mom…” I croak, trying to push myself upright, but the sharp pull of pain in my limbs forces me to pause.“No, Isabel, don’t!” she exclaims, leaning forward, her hands reaching to stop me. “You don’t have to get up. Christine!” Her voice rises, sharp with urgency as she calls for Christine. “You need to rest. I’ll call the doctor now.”“I’m fine,” I manage, though the weight in my chest says otherwise. I push against the mattress again, and this time, I manage to sit up, my head throbbing in protest. Just as I
Cynthia’s POVThe laughter in our small circle drifts around me like meaningless noise as I sip my champagne. I nod politely, feigning interest, but my mind is elsewhere, unraveling threads I can’t quite pull together.Across the room, a flash of movement catches my attention. My gaze locks on Claire and my father, deep in conversation near the far corner of the hall.It’s strange. My father rarely accepts invitations, especially for events like this. He’s always preferred to keep his distance from society’s endless charades. Yet the moment he heard the name Claire Montgomery, he insisted on attending.I push the thought aside, trying to rationalize it. He’s probably just as curious as everyone else, wondering how someone could look so much like Isabel. But deep down, there’s a nagging unease I can’t quite shake.“I know it’s just business,” a voice from our group cuts into my thoughts, dragging me back. “But there’s something in the way Alexander looks at her.”The words land like a
Alexander’s POVThe moment Claire walks into the event, flanked by an entourage of bodyguards, the air shifts. She commands attention effortlessly, her mere presence drawing every eye in the room, including mine. I can’t help but stare. It’s not just her striking resemblance to Isabel—it’s everything else about her. The power she exudes, the confidence in her every step, the way she holds herself as though the world bows to her. Isabel was never like this. Isabel lived in my shadow, content to be the soft-spoken wife, the woman who leaned on me for support.Claire, though—she’s a force of nature. A far cry from the life Isabel led. And yet, despite all the reasons I’ve found to dismiss any connection between them, my gut won’t let go of the hunch. It doesn’t make sense. Why does she interest me so much?Her eyes lock with mine, just for a brief moment. There’s something unreadable in her gaze, but before I can analyze it, she tilts her head ever so slightly and places a soft smile on
Isabel’s POVMy heart races, pounding against my ribs like a desperate drumbeat as I strain to make sense of the suffocating dark. My fingers claw at the air, searching for something, anything, but it’s too dark to see. Too dark to breathe. And then I hear it—or think I do—a steady, deliberate breath. It’s close. Too close. A man’s breath, growing louder with every second, each sound a knife against my sanity.Panic grips me like a vice, my throat tightening as I suppress the urge to scream. Who could feel sane in a moment like this? The imagined sound grows heavier, impossibly near, and my mind spirals into chaos. Is he standing in front of me? Watch me? Waiting? My heart slams against my chest as if it’s trying to break free. The darkness feels alive, pressing in, trapping me.Then, like a cruel twist of fate, the lights flicker back on. My vision adjusts, and the room reclaims its reality. He isn’t too close: there’s no breath on my neck. It was all in my head. But there he is—
Isabel’s POV“Change that dress, you look awful in it.” Alexander said in a commanding tone.The dress, a red revealing short gown, which hugged my curves, featuring a daring plunging neckline.Glancing through myself and looking back at the mirror, I asked, “what’s wrong with my dress, not like it’s the first time am wearing it.”“I don’t have to give you any explanation or talk further on this, just change it like I said!” He retorted.His tone is cold, but still handsome as ever.He stood at an imposing 6’3”, his height adding to his commanding presence.Alexander used to love me. I want to believe so.He used to be a loving and doting husband. Even though there’s a side of him that I’m yet to understand. He’s sometimes aggressive, tends to be controlling and commanding.I’ve tried to talk to him, but it always ends in arguments, never accepting the fact that he has an issue.It has just been messy.My once loving husband has turned to a stranger.I couldn't even break the news of...
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