Alexander’s POVI sit by the wine bar, my fingers lightly tracing the rim of my glass as I replay the day in my mind—every word, every look, every moment that seems to unravel all at once.The Montgomerys are revealing their missing daughter to the world tomorrow. They keep making it seem like they’ve struck gold with her.What’s the point of a party? Well, considering we got the check, I won’t mind if they keep throwing parties every weekend. I scoff.Just as I’m about to take another sip, I catch sight of Cynthia passing by, dressed in a figure-hugging mini dress made of sleek, shimmering fabric that catches the light.I glare at her as she walks past, pretending not to notice me. For a second, I wonder where she might be heading this late at night, dressed like that.Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been interested in her, her looks, or anything related to her.But for the sake of my family’s reputation, I can’t just let it slide. And for god’s sake, she’s a mother! What kind of exam
Isabel’s POVI stand before the mirror, my heart racing beneath the surface, refusing to reveal the anxiety simmering inside.Today isn’t just any day—it’s the day the world learns my true identity, the long-lost daughter of the Montgomery family. I release a slow, steady breath, forcing calm to replace my nerves.Five years have passed since I last faced Alexander, Cynthia, and the meddling Mother Hen—Sabrina King. The thought of seeing them—especially Alexander—tightens a cold knot in my chest. I remember the last words he said, the look in his eyes when he handed me the divorce papers. I can’t afford to show my rage, not tonight.“Sis, you look absolutely gorgeous,” Aurora’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, her reflection joining mine in the mirror.Her eyes sparkle with pride and excitement as she adjusts her gown, a stunning midnight blue that shimmers under the chandelier light.“You’re ready for this, Isabel… Claire.” She rolls her eyes, and I can’t help smiling. “More than r
Alexander’s POVI stride down the hall, adjusting the cufflinks of my tailored white tuxedo, the soft notes of piano drifting through the air. A gentle melody echoes from the grand piano near the far end of the ballroom, mingling with the quiet hum of conversations. The weight of success settles comfortably on my shoulders.The tux fits like a second skin, and the subtle gleam of my Rolex catches the light with each step. Cynthia is by my side, her manicured fingers curled around my arm, projecting the image of a perfect, polished couple. Her presence beside me is calculated, rehearsed—just like everything else in our public life.Tonight is it.The hotel ballroom is filled with a who’s who of elites, business magnates, and influential figures. The Montgomerys sure know how to gather power under one roof. I let a smile play on my lips as the camera flashes capture the moment, bathing us in a soft glow. Golden accents on the walls catch the light of the chandeliers, casting a warm, a
Isabel’s POVA light knock on the glass catches my attention. It’s Christine, signaling to Travis that it’s time.I look up, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. “It’s time, ma’am,” he says quietly, his voice calm but firm.I press my lips into a thin line, releasing out a deep sigh. The weight of what lies ahead settles over me. I can’t avoid facing them forever. If I’m going to do this, there’s no better time than now.As I step out of the car, blinding lights from countless cameras flash around me. The sharp, rapid clicks of shutters surround me—a reminder of who I am, of who they all believe I am.Claire Montgomery.The name feels heavy on my shoulders, like a cloak I’ve yet to fully embrace. Like I earlier stated, it’s the name given to me by my real mother before we were torn apart. Being Claire Montgomery is the only way to stay hidden, to stay safe. I take a deep breath, the cool night air filling my lungs. Tonight, I don’t just show up as Isabel—I show up as the daughter
Alexander’s POVI’m not dreaming. It’s real. Like, it’s fucking real. She’s here—standing before the crowd as Leonard Montgomery introduces her as their daughter. Their daughter. His speech ends, and the crowd erupts into cheers, but I can’t move. My hands stay limp at my sides as shock roots me to the spot. I turn my head slowly to look at Cynthia, her jaw still slack as though her mind is trying to piece together what we’re witnessing. Finally, she glances at me, her face tight with confusion, before excusing herself. Good. Perfect. I don’t need her buzzing around me right now. My gaze snaps back to Isabel—or is it Claire Montgomery?—as she stands poised and radiant in front of the crowd. How? How is she alive? And if she’s alive, why couldn’t I find her? But then again, I didn’t search, did I? Not really. I convinced myself it was pointless. I’d buried my guilt under a mountain of excuses—telling myself it was better to move on, that it was what she would’ve wanted. Bu
Isabel’s POVThe familiar figure catches my eye, and memories of her flood my mind. Aria.The first time we met was at the beach—Roy’s introduction, a brief, polite encounter that held more weight than I’d realized then. But how does she know my mother so well, and why is she speaking to her like family? There’s a familiarity there that unsettles me. Does she know more about my past than I realize?“Aria?” I say, my voice carrying surprise.Her eyes widen when she sees me, and for a second, we both just stare, caught in the shock of recognition. I guess I’m not the only one taken aback.Before either of us speaks, my mom steps forward, her face lighting up with that warm smile she always gives to someone she adores. “Aria, dear!” she beams, wrapping her in a hug.“I didn’t know you two already knew each other!” she exclaims, turning to me with excitement. “Well, that makes it easier then, doesn’t it?” She laughs softly, her smile widening as she introduces Aria to her business friends
Cynthia’s POVI storm out of the hall, anger, confusion, and fury clashing in my chest.Who did I just see back there? Isabel? It can’t be. Isabel’s dead.I dart my eyes around, my breath coming in gasps. My mind must be playing tricks on me, right?I clutch my chest, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. It feels like I’m going to suffocate under the weight of it all.The noise from the party grows faint as I make my way toward the other side—just any side but the hall, where I can have a moment to myself.If the person inside is Claire Montgomery, and she’s also Isabel, then… What have I done? I grit my teeth, holding my hand up to my mouth, as memories of my meeting with Claire’s representative flash across my mind.No, this can’t be! I must be hallucinating or something. I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut.Maybe I’ve been working too hard, or maybe it’s just the stress of handling everything with Sophia. I wonder why she’s so persistent in coming along with us.My eyes widen like
Isabel’s POVAs I walk back into the hall, my mind is still swirling with thoughts of what just happened. The conversation, the memories—all of it spins together until I hear a familiar, joyful chorus that pulls me back.“Mommy!” Scarlett and Sterling’s voices ring out in perfect harmony, their excitement lifting a weight I didn’t realize was pressing so heavily on my chest.I turn, and the moment freezes. The soft lights of the hall seem to dim, the edges of the room falling away until all I can see are my children running toward me, their faces lit with pure joy. A faint melody drifts from the speakers above—a soft piano tune that barely cuts through the sound of their laughter. Everything else blurs as I drop to my knees, not caring that my dress pools around me on the polished marble floor.“Oh, my babies,” I whisper, opening my arms wide. They crash into me, and the warmth of their small bodies melts the lingering chill in my heart. The familiar scent of baby shampoo fills the ai
Collins’ POVI look up, raising an eyebrow as I meet Alexander’s gaze. “So… you want me to get details on this vehicle?” I ask, tapping the paper he just slid across my desk, my tone dry, disbelieving.Alexander shifts his weight from one foot to the other, slowly nodding. But it’s the kind of nod that screams reluctance—like he still can’t believe the words are coming from his own mouth.I scoff. “You came back after storming out last time, pissed at the world, and now you want me to run a plate number on a bike?” I let the silence hang, thick and heavy, watching him squirm as he avoids saying what we both know he came here for.He doesn’t answer.Instead, he pinches the bridge of his nose, and that’s when I know—he’s wrestling with it. The discomfort is all over his face. I’ve known Alexander long enough to recognize when something’s eating him from the inside.I sigh, sinking deeper into my seat, locking my fingers together. “What’s your connection with this plate number?” I ask, s
Cynthia’s POVI pace the room, my heels clicking sharply against the marble floor, every step slicing through the heavy, choking silence.My mind won’t stop spinning, crashing back to Alexander’s words from last night. His tone, his stubbornness, the way he said he was going to start digging into the past. Into the truth.Panic twists inside me.If he really starts poking around, he will find it.He will find me.How I carefully, ruthlessly created a rift between him and Isabel.How I built lie upon lie, wound after wound, all to keep them apart forever.No.I shake my head fiercely, biting down hard on my thumbnail, pacing faster.That can’t happen.For years, I’ve endured—fought—to keep the truth buried. I’ve planted doubts, fueled betrayals, sowed distrust like a second skin between them.And yet—Why does fate keep spinning the damn wheel back to them?No matter how far apart I tear them, no matter how well I bury the past, something—something—always shoves them back toward each o
Isabel’s POV“Claire…” My mother’s voice breaks, hoarse with grief. “How could you have been going through all of this alone?” Her eyes are wide with pain, hands trembling as they reach toward me but stop halfway. “Countless times, Claire. Countless times you were attacked, and you just… you just hid it from me?”Tears spill freely down her cheeks as she steps closer, her voice rising into a sharp, helpless wail. “How did you think I would feel as your mother—knowing you’ve been living through all this, silently bleeding, and I never knew? And now… now I find out you’d planned to use yourself as bait at the event?” She clutches her chest like her heart might tear in two. “Why, Claire? Why didn’t you tell me?”I snap—not out of anger, but from the pressure of everything I’ve been holding in.“Because I was scared, Mom!” I cry, my voice raw and cracking. “Scared of seeing you this way. Scared that I’d shatter you.”Her breathing falters, but I push through the lump in my throat.“I know
Alexander’s POVThe door clicks open as I step inside the house with Mother.The soft tune of a jazz song floats through the living room, slow and airy like the aftermath of a toast. Cynthia dances alone—wine in hand, hair loosely pinned, her dress glinting in the light as if she’s celebrating something only she knows.My jaw clenches.I walk straight to the speaker and turn off the music.She turns slowly, surprised, raising her glass mid-air like she just noticed us.“Oh… you’re back?” she says lightly, her tone breezy. “The event’s already over?”Something in her voice irks me. I don’t miss the sly curiosity behind her words.I stare at her. My mind replays the scene—the flash of her slipping out through the hotel hallway, the way she avoided every gaze.I know what I saw.“Where were you today, Cynthia?” I ask, voice sharp.She scoffs, laughing without humor.“Impossible. Where else would I be?”Lies. I can see it in the flicker of her eyes.If you lie to me now, Cynthia, I’ll tak
Isabel’s POVI’m still frozen—still in shock—barely able to feel my own breath, much less the dull ache spreading across my chest. The only thing louder than the sound of my pulse is the voice that suddenly rips through the air.“Is this the plan you were talking about? I thought your plan was to avenge Cynthia for all she’s done. How come you had Roy involved in it too?”The voice is raw. Strained. Like it clawed its way up from a place of pain. Each word crashes into me like thunder, louder as the footsteps draw closer. And then… we all turn.Aria.Her red-rimmed eyes land on me with blistering intensity. Her face is crimson, cheeks flushed with rage, and her fists are clenched tight by her sides like she’s fighting every urge to lash out. Her chest heaves, her shoulders rigid with emotion.The silence becomes deafening. Every head turns as she walks forward—past the nurses, past the waiting chairs—right into the center of the tension. No one moves. No one speaks. We just watch, hel
Alexander’s POVI’m still trying to wrap my head around it.Isabel knew.All this time… she knew.I sit there, breathing like I’ve been sprinting for miles, my hands pressed against my face, dragging down slowly as if doing so could pull the disbelief away with them. My heart pounds, not from exertion, but from the weight of realization.I never imagined—never even considered—that she’d found out about what happened between me and Cynthia at the Euphoria Club.What I tried so damn hard to hide… what I let destroy everything good I had… she knew?From the start?I sacrificed our marriage to keep that night buried, thinking if I only held on to the part where she cheated on me, maybe it would be enough to protect my image.Maybe—just maybe—if she never found out about my mistake too, I could live with it.I wasn’t trying to shield her from the truth… I just didn’t want her to see me differently.I wanted to stay the one who was wronged. The one who had a reason to let go.But all this w
Isabel’s POVThe sound splits the air like thunder.But it doesn’t hit me.I don’t even see it happen—just feel the sudden force of Roy’s body slamming into mine, shoving me aside in one sharp, protective motion.Then comes the crack of bone, the dull thud of impact, and the sickening sound of him crashing to the floor.“No… no, no—” I gasp, stumbling back as my eyes drop to him.He’s on the ground. Blood.So much blood.Spilling out from the side of his torso, soaking through his shirt and pooling beneath him like a dark, blooming flower. My ears ring, my hands tremble as I drop to my knees beside him, unable to breathe, unable to think.“Roy!” I cry, crawling toward him, grabbing his shoulders. “Roy!”The world around me explodes with chaos. Screams. Footsteps. The shriek of people rushing in from the hall. My guards storm out, guns drawn, shouting orders, some flanking me immediately, while others bolt after the motorcycles tearing away through the entrance, engines roaring into th
Isabel’s POVI’ve been standing in this corner for a while now. My eyes keep scanning the space—back and forth, every shadow, every movement—but still, nothing. No sign. No trace. Not even a whisper of someone watching. I bite down hard on my bottom lip, frustration swirling inside me.But how’s that even possible?If someone’s truly been watching my every move—dropping letters like the last one, you can’t get away from me—then they should know I’m here. Alone. Waiting. Isn’t that the perfect opportunity? Isn’t this exactly what they’ve been waiting for?Damn it.This was supposed to be it—the night I catch whoever it is. The night I uncover every damn truth that’s been clawing at my peace for months. But now… silence.I’m so lost in my head that I don’t notice the hand until it lands on my shoulder.My heart sinks.My breath catches as I whirl around, bracing for a blow—only to find Christine’s wide eyes staring at me.“Ma’am,” she says quickly, her voice tight with concern. “Are you
Alexander’s POVIt’s not just her beauty.It never was.It’s the way she carries herself. Regal, yet detached. That air of quiet defiance, like she doesn’t need to try—like she was born to own every damn space she walks into. Even now, standing in the center of this glittering hall with eyes trailing after her like moths to flame, I still can’t figure her out. And I hate that about her.I tell myself I feel nothing but anger toward her. But the moment I see her—just one glance—and I lose grip.My eyes flick, without permission, to the slit in her dress. Her skin catches the light like satin, a soft shimmer that holds my gaze longer than it should. My attention moves to her lips—watching the way they move as she speaks to someone across the room. I know every curve of those lips, every silent message they used to send me.I drag my eyes away, clenching my jaw as I shake my head.Damn it.I curse under my breath, angry at myself. At this weakness. She shouldn’t still have this effect on