Natalie’s Point of View The bar was dimly lit, hidden away on the quieter side of the city. Soft jazz played in the background, and the faint smell of smoke lingered in the air. I sat in the corner booth, legs crossed, the rim of my wine glass grazing my lower lip as I waited.He came late.Of course, he did.Adrian always liked making an entrance.“Still as beautiful as ever,” he drawled, sliding into the seat across from me, his smirk lazy but sharp. His black shirt clung to his chest, sleeves rolled to his elbows like he owned the night.I arched a brow. “And still as shameless as always, I see.”“Come on, Nat,” he said with a crooked grin. “No ‘hello,’ no ‘how are you’? After all we’ve done together?”My grip tightened on the glass. “We’re not couples, Adrian.”He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Maybe not. But we are friends… in crime.” My eyes snapped up to meet his. “Don’t say that out loud.”He laughed, the sound low and mocking. “Relax. No one cares. Beside
Natalie’s Point of View Ughhh! The sound of shattering glass echoed through my apartment. The vase the one Reid’s mother gave me last Christmas lay broken on the floor, pieces glittering like tears under the golden light. I stared at it for a moment, chest heaving, before sinking onto the couch, my hands trembling from anger that had no place to go. It took me years to make him see me, to make Reid understand that I was the woman who fit him perfectly. Years to stand by his side, to prove myself worthy of his world, of his name, of his heart. And yet… all it took was one woman, her, to ruin everything. Karline Russo. Even her name makes my jaw tighten. She came from nowhere, some small-town girl with dirt under her nails and soft, pleading eyes. She had nothing. No family name, no class, no elegance. And somehow, that became her charm. Reid fell for that. He fell for her quiet voice, her innocence, the way she looked at him like he was her whole world. And the moment he d
Third Person POVThe office floor was eerily quiet. The hum of computers had died down, the chatter of colleagues silenced. One by one, the lights across the hallways had flickered off as people left for the night, until only a single pool of light remained in the vast expanse of the building.Karline Russo sat at her cubicle, her back aching, her eyes stinging from staring at spreadsheets that blurred into one another. She rolled her stiff shoulders, sighing softly. The silence pressed on her, heavy and suffocating.Her gaze drifted toward the corner of her desk. A small photo frame sat there one she always kept close.It was a picture of her and Ethan. His round cheeks pressed against her, his wide smile showing tiny baby teeth, his small fingers curled around hers. Her heart softened instantly. She reached forward, brushing the glass with her fingertips.Her lips trembled. Just one more hour. One more unbearable hour.The tick of the clock above her seemed cruel. Every second dragg
Third Person POVThe office was vast, designed with clean lines and intimidating elegance. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the cityscape beyond, gleaming like steel and glass reminders of power. At the far end sat a large desk, dark wood, pristine. And in the chair behind it, turned deliberately away from her, was a figure she knew far too well.Reid Carter.Her throat tightened. She closed the door behind her with slow, careful movements, as though even the click of the lock might betray how violently her heart pounded. She walked further in, each step heavier than the last, until she stood silently a few feet from his chair.She didn’t dare speak. She didn’t dare breathe.For a moment, there was only silence. Then his voice cut through it, low, measured, commanding.“Miss Russo, you’re late. Thirty-three minutes and fifty-four seconds late, to be exact.”The precision of it struck her like a blow. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.“And,” he continued, still facing away,
KARLINE’S POINT OF VIEW The fever hadn’t gone.All through the night, Ethan tossed and turned, his tiny body burning with a heat that terrified me. His cheeks glowed red, his lips dry, and every so often, he whimpered my name. Each sound splintered my heart into pieces.I sat by his side, cloth in hand, wiping his forehead again and again, whispering soothing words I wasn’t sure he could even hear. Each time the medicine worked, it lasted only a few hours before the fever surged back with vengeance.I begged silently, to God, to fate, to anyone who would listen just take the fever away. But the night dragged on, and morning came with no mercy.The doctor had been useless. “It’s just a fever,” he had said again. “Children bounce back. Don’t worry too much, Karline”Don’t worry? How could a mother not worry when her child was suffering?When her child is burning in fever. Still, life was relentless. I had already taken two days off work. Bills were piling up, rent looming, and Ethan n
KARLINE'S POINT OF VIEW The evening carried the damp scent of rain as Karline pushed open the wooden gate to her parents’ farmhouse. Her shoes tapped against the gravel path, her shoulders heavy from another long day at the office. Normally, this walk home gave her comfort the smell of baked bread drifting from the kitchen, Ethan’s laughter echoing across the yard. But tonight, there was no laughter. The door opened before she reached it. Isabella stood there, her apron still tied at the waist, her face pale with worry. “Mamma?” Karline asked quickly, alarm spiking in her chest. “What happened?” Isabella’s hands twisted together. “It’s Ethan. He’s burning up. We tried to cool him down, but his fever isn’t breaking.” Karline’s heart lurched. She didn’t even wait for more. She rushed down the narrow hall and flung open the door to her bedroom. There, curled under the blankets, was Ethan. His cheeks flushed deep crimson, his tiny lips parted as he breathed shallowly. A damp clot