Collins’ POVI grip the steering wheel tighter than I realize, my knuckles white, the tension running up my arms. Through the window, I watch the tall building in front of me, its sleek glass reflecting the cloudy sky. A breath escapes me—long, heavy. What am I doing here?The question loops in my mind as my gaze sweeps over the structure again. Why do I find myself rushing to her place the moment I hear about Cynthia’s arrest? I should be at the hospital with Alexander. He needs me. But no, here I am… parked outside Aria’s apartment complex, heart pounding like I’ve been in a sprint. Why?Maybe it’s because I wanted to be the first to tell her. Or maybe it’s because I already knew what this news could mean for her. I didn’t want her hearing it from someone careless. Or worse—someone cruel. I wanted to see her face, gauge her reaction, maybe shield her from it.But what if… I lean back into the leather seat, closing my eyes briefly, tension sitting heavy in my chest. She’s not picking
Cynthia’s POVThe silence after Sabrina’s words is suffocating—like the air has been ripped out of the room.My heart hammers in my chest, cold dread seeping through every vein.My knees weaken, and the floor seems to tilt beneath me.How is this happening?How can she turn on me like this?“Sabrina…” I try to steady my voice, but it comes out trembling. “What… what are you saying?”“She’s the one who committed those crimes,” she says coldly. “She threatened me into taking the fall. She’s the one who tried to have Isabel killed. And she tried to murder my husband too—just so he wouldn’t tell the truth after finding out what she’d done!”Alexander’s voice tears through the tension.“What?!”“She did it all,” Sabrina says. “Every last crime. I was forced into confessing.”No…“No,” I gasp, head shaking, heart pounding against my ribs. “That’s a lie. Don’t believe her, she’s trying to frame me!”Sabrina steps closer, eyes burning.“Your lies are over, Cynthia. You can’t escape anymore.”
Cynthia’s POVI never expected it to come to this.Not like this.The sound of Alexander’s fist slamming into James’s face echoes in my ears, over and over again, like a cruel rhythm that won’t stop. James just takes it—every hit, every blow—without flinching or raising a hand to defend himself. And that stirs something in me.Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe it’s something deeper.I look toward the double doors of the theater, my heart squeezing. My daughter is in there, fighting for her life, and here’s her father—her real father—taking hits in silence because he knows he can’t afford to lash out. Because somewhere inside, he’s accepted the truth too.She’s his.And Alexander… he’s not just hitting James because of the truth about Sophia. No. This is about Isabel. About the man Alexander had been searching for in the shadows, to punish, to destroy. And now he’s found him. In the worst possible moment. If I don’t stop him now, he’s going to ruin everything. He’s going to disrupt the very peac
Alexander’s POVI stare at my mother, stunned. Her words twist in my head, refusing to land. My brows pull together as confusion coils in my chest.“What… are you even saying right now?”This can’t be happening.She shakes her head, her voice quiet, trembling. “Sophia… she’s not your child, Alexander.”I scoff, my voice rising with disbelief. “Mom, do you even hear yourself? My daughter is in there fighting for her life, and this—this—is what you choose to say? Right now?”My hand lifts in the air, trying to wave her words away like smoke. “Stop. I don’t want to hear any more of this. I’ll forgive you this once—for the nonsense you’re spitting—but if you keep talking this way about my child, I swear, I won’t take it lightly.”But she doesn’t stop.She shakes her head, her eyes wild as she spins around to face Cynthia. “But Alexander,” she says, turning, storming up to Cynthia. Her hand grips Cynthia’s wrist, tight. “Say something, will you? Why are you quiet now? Shouldn’t you tell my
Cynthia’s POVI pace the narrow hallway, my heels clicking against the cold tiles. My palms are clammy, my breathing shallow. No, this can’t be happening. I press a hand to my chest, trying to steady my racing heart. I can’t let Alexander be tested. If he does, it’s going to ruin everything. Everything I’ve worked to protect…How can I stop this? My fingers twitch by my side. I have to stop this. But how?I snatch my phone from my bag, my hand shaking as I scroll through my contacts. One name. One person. James.I hit dial.It rings once. No answer.Twice. Nothing.A third time.Damn it! I grit my teeth. “Where the hell are you?” I hiss under my breath. “Too busy enjoying the comfort I handed you to answer your damn phone? Big fool.” The words tear through clenched teeth, harsh and tight with panic.I pace again, faster now, torn. Do I go to the blood room and drag Alexander out? Or do I confess? Tell the truth before it’s too late?I stop.My knees buckle slightly as I collapse into
Cynthia’s POV“Stop!” The word tears from my throat before I even realize I’m moving. One step. Two steps. I’m already by their side, my body blocking the space between Alexander and the doctor.They both freeze, startled. The doctor’s brows lift in confusion. Alexander stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.I clear my throat and straighten up. “Test me instead,” I say, trying to steady my voice. “I’m her mother. I should be a match.”This is the only way. The only move left. If Alexander gives his blood, it’s all over. He’ll know. Everything will unravel. The forged results, the buried truth—everything I built will come crashing down.He can never know. Not about the test. Not about what I did. Especially not him. Not the man who believes Sophia is his child. Alexander scowls. “This is not the time for some drama, Cynthia. My daughter is dying in there, and you’re pulling stunts?”I don’t flinch. “Is there a law,” I ask, eyes locked on the doctor, “that prevents a mother from donating