LOGINPOV: Hazel
“Is he actually shouting?” I whispered to the empty bedroom, my thumb hovering over the replay button on my phone.
The video was grainy, but the audio was sharp enough to cut. Julian was laughing. It was a loud, boisterous sound that I didn't recognize. In the blurry footage, he raised a glass high, his face flushed with a warmth he never showed me.
“Welcome home, Penelope!” he yelled.
I leaned back against the headboard, feeling a cold ache in my chest. I remembered Julian from our high school days as the untouchable genius. He was always the guy who looked straight ahead, ignoring the girls who tried to get his attention or offer him water after a race. He was composed. He was icy.
When we got married, that ice didn't melt. He was polite, sure. He was perfectly regulated. He never lost his temper, but he never found his joy either. I used to wonder if his blood was even warm. When our hands brushed, he felt like a statue.
Yet, there he was on my screen, calling a girl by a nickname and smiling like his life depended on it. He possessed passion. He possessed heat. He just didn't have any of it for me. To him, I was just the wife who stayed in the house, a shadow in his peripheral vision.
“Ma’am, are you awake? Should we start the day?” Chloe’s voice drifted through the door.
I jumped, nearly dropping the phone. My morning routine was a clockwork operation. If I wasn't out of bed by a certain time, Chloe started to worry. She knew my leg gave me trouble, and she was always terrified I’d fallen or locked up.
“I’m up,” I called out. My voice sounded thin and brittle. “I’ll be right there.”
I forced myself to stand, ignoring the familiar pull in my limb. Breakfast was waiting on the table - steamed buns that looked perfect and tasted like cardboard in my mouth. I managed three bites before pushing the plate away.
“What should I prepare for lunch and dinner?” Chloe asked as she set a glass of milk in front of me.
“Anything is fine, just make - ” I stopped myself. I had been about to say ‘make whatever Julian likes.’ That was my default setting. I lived my life to cater to his palate, his schedule, his silence. “Actually, just make whatever you want, Chloe.”
Chloe hesitated, her eyes soft with pity. “Sir mentioned he won’t be back for meals today. He has an event to attend.”
I nodded slowly. “I know.”
I didn't need a calendar to tell me where he was. Penelope had already posted her schedule on social media. She had a colorful chart showing which ‘old friend’ was taking her to dinner every night this week. She called them her doting big brothers. I knew which brother was at the top of that list tonight.
I spent the next several hours lost in books. I studied French verbs and flipped through art theory texts until the words blurred. It was the only way to kill the clock. If I didn't stay busy, the silence of the apartment would swallow me whole. I had spent years waiting for a man to come home, sitting by the window like a loyal dog.
Waiting was a slow poison. But today, the antidote was finally in my hands.
I opened my laptop and navigated to the university portal. My offer letter was sitting there, a digital golden ticket. I clicked the confirmation link and authorized the payment for the seat deposit. When the bank notification flashed on my phone, confirming the funds had been sent, I let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding for three years.
I was going back to school. I was leaving this cage.
As evening approached, I went to the closet and picked out a simple coat. I moved carefully, packing a small bag with my essentials.
Chloe caught me near the front door. Her eyes widened. “Ma’am? You’re going out?”
It was a rare sight. Without Julian to lean on, I rarely braved the world outside.
“A friend from college is performing nearby,” I lied, keeping my voice steady. “She invited me to grab a drink and catch up.”
The truth was less glamorous. I was heading to a hotel right next to the testing center. My IELTS exam was scheduled for tomorrow morning. I’d taken it months ago, but my score wasn't high enough for the elite program I wanted. I’d applied anyway, thinking I’d be rejected. When the acceptance came, it felt like a sign. I just needed to boost my English score one last time to satisfy the final condition.
“Let me come with you,” Chloe said, reaching for her sweater. “Just in case your leg gets tired.”
“No need. It’s just a girls' night. It would be awkward to have you there,” I said. I tried to look bored rather than nervous.
“I should at least call Sir and let him know,” Chloe insisted, reaching for the house phone.
“Don't bother him,” I snapped, then softened my tone. “Let him enjoy his night out. I’ll call him myself once I’m settled. He can pick me up later.”
It was another lie. I had no intention of calling him.
I grabbed my purse and slipped out before she could argue. The apartment was single-level and spacious, designed specifically so I wouldn't have to navigate stairs. Julian had been thoughtful in that one practical way, even if he was emotionally absent.
The elevator ride felt like it took a decade. When the doors opened and I stepped into the evening sunlight, I felt exposed. I immediately ducked my head, pulling my hat low over my eyes and tugging my collar up.
Before the accident, I loved the stage. I loved the lights and the eyes of the crowd. I was radiant. But the Hazel who limped didn't have that courage anymore. I felt like a broken thing, a mistake that people shouldn't have to look at. I moved quickly toward the curb, keeping my head down and my heart racing.
A black car pulled up, and the driver rolled down the window.
“Heading to the Transcorp, miss?” he asked.
I nodded and climbed into the back seat, leaning my head against the cool glass.
“Yes, and please hurry,” I said.
(Hazel's POV)"You have your mother's eyes, Hazel, and your father's stubborn refusal to look away from things that frighten you." Vincent's voice was calm, almost gentle, nothing like the cold calculation I had braced myself to face when I finally stepped into the quiet hotel suite Diane had insisted on securing for this meeting.He was older than I expected, silver haired and thin, seated by the window with the careful stillness of a man who had spent thirty years perfecting patience, the late afternoon light catching the sharp angles of his face in a way that made him look almost harmless. Julian waited just outside the door, close enough to reach me instantly, far enough to let me face this final name entirely on my own terms, exactly the way I had asked him to."You funded Marcus," I said, refusing to let his gentle tone soften the accusation, my voice steadier than I expected it to be after everything that had happened over the past few days. "You funded the sabotage at the gala
(Hazel's POV)"Say the name again, Nathaniel, slowly, because I want to be absolutely certain I heard you correctly." Diane's voice, replayed through the recording on her phone the next morning, carried a tension I had rarely heard from her in all our years of friendship.Julian and I sat together at the kitchen table, his arm still bandaged, both of us leaning close to hear the crackling audio clearly over the quiet morning sounds of the children playing in the next room, their laughter drifting in through the doorway like it belonged to some entirely separate, untouched world."Eleanor's brother," Nathaniel's recorded voice answered, weary and resigned. "Vincent. He never forgave Julian's father for cutting him out of the company decades ago. He has been funding Marcus quietly from overseas for years, waiting for the right opportunity to finally bring the whole family down."I sat back slowly, my mind reeling, the coffee in front of me growing cold and forgotten. "Eleanor never once
(Hazel's POV)"The man in the video is not Marcus, and he is not a stranger either, Hazel. You already know his face." Diane's words hit me the moment I stepped out of Julian's hospital room, exhausted and hollow after hours of waiting through stitches and scans and careful reassurances that he would fully recover."What do you mean I already know him," I asked, my mind racing through every face from the gala, every possible enemy still left standing after everything we had already survived together, my body too tired to properly brace itself for whatever answer was coming.Diane turned her tablet toward me, pausing the security footage on a clear, unmistakable frame. My breath caught painfully in my throat, the hospital hallway suddenly narrowing around me until it felt like the only thing left in the world."That is Nathaniel," I whispered, staring at the face of the man Eleanor had once let take the fall for smaller crimes, the same man Desmond had mentioned only weeks earlier duri
(Hazel's POV)"Get down, Hazel, now," Julian's voice cracked through the sudden darkness like a whip, his arm slamming across my chest and pulling me hard against him a half second before the first crash of shattering glass echoed through the ballroom.The lights had failed completely, plunging six hundred guests into screaming, stumbling chaos, the emergency exit signs casting the only dim red glow across the panicked crowd. I clung to Julian's jacket, my heart hammering so violently I could barely hear my own thoughts, the smell of dust and burnt wiring suddenly thick in the air around us."The rigging above the stage," someone shouted from somewhere near the wings. "It is coming loose."Julian pulled me backward just as a section of decorative scaffolding tore free from the ceiling directly above where I had been standing only seconds earlier, crashing down in a shower of splintered wood and twisted metal exactly where my podium had stood only moments before, close enough that I fe
(Hazel's POV)"They are already seated, Mrs. Daniel, all six hundred of them, and Marcus Chambers just walked in through the east entrance." The event coordinator's whisper carried more warning than she probably intended, and my stomach dropped straight to the floor of the small dressing room.I studied my reflection in the mirror one final time, the deep blue gown Julian had chosen catching the light exactly the way he promised it would, my hair swept back in a style that no longer tried to hide anything at all, no scarves, no careful angles, nothing between me and the room I was about to walk into. Behind me, Julian adjusted his cufflinks with steady, practiced hands, though I noticed the faint tremor betraying the calm he worked so hard to project."You do not have to do this alone," he reminded me quietly, meeting my eyes in the mirror."I know," I said. "But I want to walk out there on my own first. You can join me once I have said what I need to say."Julian studied me for a lon
(Hazel's POV)"You want me to do what, exactly," I asked, certain I had misheard Julian across the quiet of his study, the folder Corinne had given us still spread open between us on the desk, the lamp light catching the edges of the pages like a warning."I want you to speak first at the gala," Julian repeated, his voice steady despite the enormity of what he was proposing. "Before Marcus can release anything. I want you to tell the truth about the accident yourself, in your own words, before he ever gets the chance to twist it into a weapon.""That is not protecting me, Julian, that is handing me directly to him," I said, my pulse climbing at the thought of standing in front of hundreds of people and revealing the worst night of my life on my own terms, in real time, with no way to take it back once the words left my mouth."It is the opposite of handing you to him," Julian said, coming around the desk to kneel in front of where I sat, taking both my hands firmly in his, his eyes lo







