Isabel’s POVIt’s been days since my official welcome party, but the city’s rhythm hasn’t quite settled into my veins. The sprawling mansion, the unfamiliar streets, even the morning light filtering through the windows—it all feels new. Too new.I sit across from my mother at the breakfast table, her poise as steady as ever as she goes over Scarlett and Sterling’s school enrollment. She speaks with the confidence of someone who believes everything will fall perfectly into place, as it always has for her.“Scarlett will love the extracurriculars,” she says, her tone soothing, like a balm for my anxious thoughts. “And Sterling? He’s going to charm every teacher in sight, just like he always does.”I nod, but my mind struggles to keep up. “I just don’t know how they’ll cope with the change,” I admit, my voice softer than I intended. “They were starting to adjust in New York, and now… now it’s all happening again. What if it’s too much for them?”My eyes dart to her, hoping for reassuranc
Alexander’s POVMy phone rings, startling me from the whirlwind of thoughts that have clouded my mind ever since I told my mom about taking up the task.I check the ID and instantly bring the phone to my ear as Collins’ voice flows through the speaker.“Alex, just as you asked me to, I’ve run some investigations on this present Isabel…” He pauses, as if hesitating on what to say next.My breath catches in my throat as a million thoughts race through my mind. Why is he pausing? I know something is up. This woman isn’t Claire; she’s Isabel. She has to be. This is just some elaborate ruse. But how? “C’mon, Collins, this isn’t the time to pause. Just spill it, will you?” I say darkly, my hand tightening around the phone in anticipation.“Hey, relax. I know you won’t believe it, but what I’m about to tell you is nothing but the truth,” he replies, his voice laced with some kind of satisfaction.“From the records,” he continues, “she is Claire, not Isabel. But, something feels strange. She
Isabel’s POV“Ma’am, Ma’am.” Christine’s voice cuts through my thoughts, her tone soft but insistent.I blink, shaking off the haze, and lean back in my chair with a sigh.“Is everything alright? You seemed lost for a moment.” She leans in slightly, her brows knitting with concern.I don’t respond right away. Instead, I exhale deeply, letting my shoulders slump. How do I even begin to explain the strange feeling this unknown number stirs in me?Christine straightens, recognizing my silence. “You’ve got a packed schedule today, ma’am. I suggest we get started.” She places an iPad on my desk.I glance at the screen but remain quiet. My thoughts keep drifting back to the countless times that number has called. What if it’s an emergency? I sit up abruptly and reach for my phone. Or what if it’s nothing? Just some random person—or maybe… I hesitate, my fingers tapping on the desk. No. I need to focus.“The team meeting will begin shortly,” Christine reminds me, her voice pulling me back to
Alexander’s POVI pull up in front of the LM Group building, its striking design catching my eye. Towering glass and steel reflect the city’s light, an impressive monument to success.But I’m not here to admire architecture. My focus is solely on the CEO—Isabel.The thought of her makes my stomach tighten. She’s barely been back, and already, she’s making decisions that directly impact my company. Or rather, my family’s company.My fingers tighten around the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. Anger surges first—familiar, burning—but underneath it, something more dangerous stirs. Regret? Longing? I shake my head, forcing those thoughts aside. Isabel isn’t just a ghost from my past; she’s a threat to everything I’ve built. And yet, the mere thought of facing her again has my pulse hammering like I’m some rookie walking into his first boardroom.Stepping out of the car, I adjust my suit and stride toward the entrance. Inside, the reception area is pristine, almost sterile, with
Alexander’s POVShe freezes, her hand still on the door handle. Slowly, she turns, her eyes narrowing. “It’s Claire,” she snaps, her voice slicing through the air like a whip. “How many times do I have to remind you?”Her lips press into a thin line, frustration simmering beneath the surface. For a moment, her knuckles whiten as she grips the door handle, her irritation clear in the subtle tension in her posture.“Wow,” she says, her tone dripping with mockery. “The great Alexander King is asking for a chance. This is what you should have said earlier, instead of wasting my time.”She releases the handle and strides toward me, stopping just close enough to let the weight of her words sink in. “How about getting your mother to beg for a chance too?”she says, her voice sweet with sarcasm.My jaw tightens, anger boiling just beneath the surface. “You know that’s not going to happen,” I say, my voice rough, barely containing the fury building inside.She throws her hands up in mock exasp
Collins’ POVWe sit in the private room of a quiet, upscale café, waiting for the other party to arrive.My client, Mark, shifts nervously in his seat, glancing around, clearly uncomfortable. I wonder why. Maybe it’s because he’s about to face the woman who gave him a solid beating.I tap my fingers on the table, trying to keep my thoughts in check. Finally, the door swings open, and the other lawyer enters, followed by the woman.At first, I think my eyes are playing tricks on me. Aria? After all these years of seeing her from a distance, here she is, just a few feet away. She doesn’t know me—of course, she doesn’t—but I’ve memorized every detail. And now, she’s looking at me for the first time. My heart pounds, and I grip the table, trying to steady myself.What are the odds? Of all the cases, of all the women, it had to be her.I quickly dart my eyes to Mark, who’s staring at his hands, biting his lip, avoiding eye contact. My voice drops, barely controlled. “Did you say you did no
Isabel’s POV“So, you’re saying you did beat him up because he refused to apologize, huh?” I ask, walking towards my office desk, gently placing my iPad on it and sinking into my chair. Since yesterday I got back from the office, Aurora hasn’t let me rest, she keeps following like some child. Ranting about some jerk she came across with when she was out with the kids and Aria. The lady my mom introduced as her friend’s daughter at my welcoming party.I narrow my eyes on her as she starts talking, her voice animated, recounting what happened yesterday and how it happened.“Yeah, me and the kids were out with Aria after you left for the office yesterday,” she begins, pacing as she does so. “Then this jerk from the street thought he could sexually play around with us, you know? I asked him to apologize, but he refused and started mouthing off, calling me weak and throwing disgusting words about my body.” She clenches her fists. “I couldn’t take it anymore, Sis. I had to teach him a less
Isabel’s POVThe door swings open, and as Sabrina steps inside, her presence fills the room.She’s dressed in a tailored black dress, elegant but sharp, the kind that screams power. Her red lips curl into a subtle smirk, the same confidence that her son, Alexander King always carries. She’s the chairman of the King’s Empire, after all.I lean back in my chair, watching her with a cool, calm expression.Aurora glances between us, clearly sensing the tension in the air. She’s not one to start drama, but she certainly knows when to step out of the line of fire. And without a beat, she rises from her seat and starts to head out.“Uh,” she parts her mouth open, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll, uh, be leaving now,” she mumbles, gesturing vaguely toward the door. “I think I got some stuff I need to get done.” She adds, practically sprinting out of the office before I can say anything.As the door closes behind Aurora, I take a breath and turn my attention back to Sabrina. “So, you’re
Isabel’s POVI descend the stairs with fury pulsing through every step, my heels clicking sharply against the polished marble. Each thud feels like a countdown. My jaw is clenched tight, my fists balled at my sides, nails digging into my palms. I don’t care. Let it hurt. It grounds me.Halfway down, I hear her voice.“Where are you going to?” my mother asks, stepping into view at the foot of the stairs, her brows drawn in concern, eyes searching mine.I don’t answer immediately. Instead, I pause, inhaling a deep, shuddering breath through my nose, as if I can exhale all this rage, all this pain. My hands tighten by my sides again, trembling. It’s the only thing keeping me from screaming.She notices the silence, but doesn’t push. Instead, she raises the phone in her hand. “Your father called. He’s planning to return as soon as he heard the news.”I look at her now, startled, as if those words punch a hole in the emotional armor I’ve barely held together.“He’s worried,” she continues g
Alexander’s POVI’m gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles are pale. Buildings blur past my window as I drive, but my mind is stuck on Collins’ words—each one echoing like a slow, burning fuse.It’s Sabrina. Your mother.Could she have really done it?My jaw clenches as I press harder on the gas. The engine hums louder beneath me, but it doesn’t drown out the flood of thoughts crashing in my head.She never wanted me to marry Isabel. From the very beginning, my mother made it painfully clear—Isabel wasn’t good enough, not for me, not for our family. She despised everything about her. Her upbringing. Her background. The fact that she was poor. A nobody. Someone who didn’t fit into our world.She never forgave me for choosing Isabel anyway.And then I remember—that night.We were arguing in her study room. She’d been furious about how useless Isabel was during a family crisis—said she just stood there, quiet, offering nothing of value. That she had no strength, no presence,
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