Hello, dearest readers! What do you think—will Cynthia be able to stand her ground against the great Claire Montgomery, or will Claire (Isabel) give her a well-deserved taste of her own medicine? The tension between these two keeps me on the edge of my seat, and I hope it does the same for you. Cynthia has no idea who she’s truly dealing with! Thank you so much for your continued support of my book. Your encouragement means the world to me, and I truly appreciate every bit of it. Stay tuned—there’s so much more to come!
Cynthia’s POVI huff loudly the moment Isabel disappears from sight, my teeth gritting behind a bitter smile.Unbelievable. She dares to challenge me? Throw it in my face that she’s got more control over Alexander now? Damn you, Isabel! My God, sometimes I wish it had been you who burned down in that fire… not your godforsaken mother, Celyn. Why was it you who survived? You should have just died and never returned.I tilt my head slowly, letting the rage simmer beneath the surface. She doesn’t really know what I’m capable of. That’s the mistake she’s making. That’s why she thinks she can stand there and threaten me like she owns the world.If only she’d been a minute late… I was so close—so damn close to getting that strand of hair when she barged in.Damn it!Now I’ll need to find another way to get the sample I need, and this time, it’ll be harder. Isabel won’t make it easy—she’ll make damn sure I can’t even get near her children again.But why was it so difficult? Scarlett was righ
Isabel’s POVI turn sharply to face Christine, my patience thinning like the last thread of a worn-out rope. “What do you mean our men weren’t able to get him? I thought you had his location already locked down? This was supposed to be a simple task. Get the man who plotted with Cynthia,” I say, pronouncing each word slowly, carefully, as if dragging them out will keep me from screaming.Christine looks down, mumbling for what feels like the hundredth time, “I’m sorry, ma’am.”I huff, flipping to the other side of the room, my arms folded tight across my chest. “It’s not about saying you’re sorry. This was supposed to be my chance to find evidence against Cynthia. To make her pay for everything. And now? We’ve lost him.”My fists clench so hard my nails dig into my palm. I barely notice.Christine shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sure Cynthia helped him. He wouldn’t have been able to escape that freely without help.”“Of course,” I snap, turning my gaze back to her. “Who else would have don
Cynthia’s POVI pace my room, barefoot against the cold marble floor. It’s been three days now. Three long, dragging days, and even though Alexander hasn’t said a word about the divorce he threw at me like a dagger, I still find myself restless. On edge.His silence—it speaks louder than any outburst could. There’s something in it. Something simmering beneath, and I don’t like it.What is he thinking?What is he up to?Even with my trail on him, I’ve gotten nothing useful. Just reports of him going to the office… spending time with Collins. That’s it.Could he be plotting something with Collins? I scoff under my breath. No way. He can’t still be dreaming about going through with that divorce. I told him what he stands to lose. Made it very clear. He got the message. I made damn sure of that.Thank goodness I was able to prove to him years ago that Sophia was his. That forged DNA result saved everything. He doesn’t know the truth. No one does. And it’s going to stay that way. Forever.
Collins’ POVI wake to an unfamiliar stillness.The space beside me is cold. Empty. No rustle of breath, no soft weight beneath the covers. My arm stretches out, instinctively reaching for her, but there’s nothing—just the quiet whisper of sheets, already cooled from her absence. I sit up slowly, blinking at the faint morning light filtering through the blinds.And then I see it.A single folded piece of paper resting by the lamp on the nightstand. White. Deliberate. Like a farewell. I frown and reach for it, the edge slightly crumpled as though she hesitated before placing it down.My fingers tremble slightly as I unfold it.Her handwriting hits me first—sharp, clean strokes that carry more weight than they should. Then the words begin to blur into meaning:“I know this might come off another way, but I don’t want you to carry the burden of what happened last night… or ever feel responsible for it. It was all a mistake, and it shouldn’t have happened. So just forget about the night…
Aria’s POVI take a sip of my drink, the cool liquid settling into the pit of my stomach like a quiet storm. My fingers curl slightly as I set the glass down on the table, the soft clink sounding louder than I expect in the quiet. “I’m sorry I had to call you out here tonight,” I say, turning toward Collins.He looks… oddly pleased, like someone who’s been waiting for this moment longer than he’s willing to admit. For someone given a last-minute call, he seems anything but inconvenienced. There’s a relaxed ease in the way he leans back, that familiar glimmer in his eyes that says I’m exactly where I want to be.He shakes his head almost instantly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “No, it’s nothing, Aria. In fact, I’m glad you called.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I needed to be out anyway. Been so caught up with work lately, I forgot what the outside world looked like.”I watch him for a beat—really watch him—then sniff quietly and return my gaze to the drink in front of me, th
Isabel’s POVI catch the hesitation in Alexander’s eyes as I run out of the room, and for a moment, I don’t know what to feel.Should I feel bad?Should I wait and hope he chooses me?But one thing is painfully clear—I can’t stand to see him like that. Torn. Stuck.I know what it feels like to be caught between two impossible choices, especially when it comes to your child. As a parent, the thought of being separated from your kid… it’s unbearable.And I won’t be the reason he carries that burden. I won’t build hope on something that requires him to hurt his own child.That’s not love—it’s cruelty.No matter how broken I feel inside, I won’t be the one to make him choose.I dash out of the building, my heels hitting the pavement harder than I intend.My chest tightens with every step.The air outside is cool, but it does nothing to ease the heat building behind my eyes.Just as I approach the car, Christine rushes toward me, her brows furrowed in concern.“Ma’am? Are you okay?” she as
Alexander’s POVShe walks away slowly, but her words linger, haunting me.“I never cheated.”The sentence loops in my head like a cursed line from a film I can’t stop watching. My chest tightens. Confusion swirls inside me—doubt, denial, anger. What the hell is she trying to do? Pretend like I have no proof? Is she hoping I’ve let it go?But the photo…Yes, the photo.The image slams into my mind like a wrecking ball. The rage it stirs in me sets my legs in motion before I can think. I’m already moving, already running after her. My heart pounds harder with each step as my hand reaches out and catches her arm.She jerks slightly, startled, turning to face me.Just for a second—just a breath—our eyes lock. Something about the way she looks at me… it shakes me. Then, just like that, she yanks her arm out of my grip.“I’m really not in the mood right now to continue talking to you,” she says, voice cold. “So please—”“No,” I cut her off, breathing hard. “We have to talk. I can’t hold thi
Isabel’s POVNavarro stares at me as though he’s seen a ghost—his mouth parts slightly, voice uneven, fingers twitching like he doesn’t know what to do with them.“You’re… you’re Miss C?” he stammers, eyes blinking rapidly as the weight of realization settles.I remain seated, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, arms folded in effortless poise, and a soft, knowing smile plays on my lips. My gaze never wavers from Navarro—sharp, assessing. Like a predator watching its prey struggle to make sense of the danger it’s in, right before it’s devoured. I offer a gentle nod, slow and deliberate, like a final verdict.His eyes flick nervously between me, my lawyer Robert, my business rep Michael, and Christine—each of them calm, composed, unmoved by the tension brewing around us. He fidgets again, rubbing his thumb over the edge of his finger as though trying to ground himself.Of course, they never saw it coming. No one ever connected the dots. “Miss C”—the shortened version of Claire, t
Cynthia’s POVThe paper is still folded.It lies on the table in front of me, untouched, unopened — exactly as I left it hours ago. My fingers had grazed it, curled around the edges with glee… but I never unfolded it. I didn’t need to. Not then.Because in my mind, I already knew.I was so sure.I paced the room, a twisted sort of joy rushing through me, playing out every possible scenario of Isabel’s downfall. Her face when she finds out. The silence. The collapse of that perfect little world she’d rebuilt.I imagined it all — built an empire of vengeance in my head before even reading the truth.But now… now the silence feels heavier.My chest tightens as I sit before the paper again.Why haven’t I read it?Why am I suddenly afraid?I reach for it. My fingers tremble — just slightly. It’s ridiculous. I should be savoring this moment. This is what I wanted.And yet…A breath catches in my throat as I finally unfold the results.My eyes scan the page—And then everything stills.Silen