Lisa’s POVIn Francis’s apartment, I sat in the sitting room, watching some TV. It hadn’t been a while since I came but he wasn’t back home. One of the servants informed me. Francis had texted me an hour ago, saying his meeting with Zane hadn’t gone well, and I’d shown up at his apartment unannounced, needing to hear it in person. The weight of his words over the phone had settled into my chest, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were running out of time.When the door finally creaked open, Francis stepped inside. He didn’t notice me at first, tossing his keys onto the other couch with a clatter before his eyes flicked up and met mine. He looked surprised as he sank onto the couch across from me, his body folding into itself as if the weight of the day had finally broken him.“Lisa,” he called. “You didn’t have to come over.”“I did,” I said, leaning forward, my elbows resting on my knees. “You sounded like hell on the phone. What happened with Zane?” “It was a waste of time,”
Francis’s POVIn my office at Harrington, I sat at my desk, surrounded by stacks of reports on the Chicago branch fire. The letters stared back at me, insurance claims, repair estimates, lost revenue projections. My tie hung loose around my neck, the top button of my shirt undone, and my sleeves were rolled up to my elbows. The weight of the disaster pressed against my thoughts, a dull ache that hadn’t let up in weeks. I leaned forward, rubbing my eyes when suddenly, the door swung open without a knock. I look up to see the old man.Grandfather Fredrick stood in the doorway, his presence filling the room before he even spoke. His sharp emotionless eyes pinned me to my chair. There was no greeting, no smile, just the heavy silence of his cold presence. He didn’t sit. Instead, he strode to the edge of my desk and planted his hands on its surface, leaning forward slightly.“Francis,” he said. “I’m running out of patience.”I straightened in my chair, my hands falling to my lap. “Grandfa
Christine’s POVGrandmother Eleanor’s voice was soft as she spoke. “My child, why would you ever say such a thing?” she said, her eyes were filled with love and reproach. “You must never think that way. You are of this family, Christine. No one, no one will ever say otherwise.” Her words hit me deeply, stirring the emotions I’d been trying to keep at bay. Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks before I could stop them.Grandmother’s face softened, her brows knitting together in concern. She stepped closer, her hands reaching out. With a gentle touch, she wiped the tears from my face, her thumbs brushing softly against my skin. “Now sweetheart, don’t ruin yourself with tears, my darling,” she said, her voice tender with a playful lilt, as if coaxing me as a child. She cupped my face and tilted my head up to meet her gaze as she gave me a small, encouraging smile, trying to coax one from me in return. “There’s that beautiful face. Let’s see a smile, hmm?”I tried not to smi
Lisa’s POV After planting the seed in my grandfather’s mind that Christine might have been behind the Chicago branch fire, I left the sitting room with a small, satisfied smile tugging at my lips. The plan was finally tilting in my favor, like a chessboard where I’d just maneuvered my queen into position. I climbed the stairs to my bedroom and shut the door behind me. I kicked off my shoes, letting them tumble carelessly near the closet, and sank onto the edge of my bed. For now, I’d won a small victory. Christine’s downfall was closer than ever. For some reason, I hated her so much, always feeling like she’s on top, above me. The next day, my phone buzzed on the nightstand, a sharp, insistent vibration that snapped me fully awake. I reached for it, my heart giving a lazy thud, expecting another text from Francis or maybe even Zane. But the screen displayed an unknown number as I swiped to open the message. The text was short. “The video still exists. Don’t think it’s buried a
Christine’s POVGrandmother Eleanor was startled as she looked up to me. “Christine, my child.” She called as I approached in as she bent over the bag, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose.“Grandmother, what are you doing?” My voice came out sharper this time. I took a hesitant step forward. Now standing in front of her. She straightened, clutching the papers of my company documents, her eyes meeting mine. For a moment, she looked almost guilty, her lips parting as if to explain. “Christine, I’m taking these to my room,” she said. “I’m having a feeling Fredrick will find out soon enough if these stay here. It's a good thing you came home.”Fear coiled inside me but it wasn’t directed at Grandmother. No, never at her. The rage bubbling beneath my skin was for someone else entirely. Lisa, or maybe Zane. If anyone had spilled my secret, it had to be one of them. My hands clenched at my sides as I tried to act normal. “Did Lisa say anything to anyone?” I asked. Grandmother set th
Lisa’s POVIn my last meeting with Zane, he had angrily left me there as I stood alone in the empty parking lot of the Chicago branch. His parting words were like warning as it echoed in my head. “You’ve made me waste my time here. Be ready to pay for it.” He’d stormed off after our argument, as he drove out of the lot in his car, leaving me. Since then, I’d tried calling him as I dialed his number again and again, but it went straight to voicemail. “Leave a message. Or don’t. I don’t care.” I shoved my phone into my purse, my jaw tight. How dare he treat me like this? My phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with Francis’s name for what felt like the hundredth time today. I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. His persistence was relentless, each call a hammer against my already frayed nerves. I let it ring, my thumb hovering over the decline button, but the buzzing didn’t stop. Another call from him came again and again, he wasn’t giving up. Then a text. “We need to see.” My pat