Caroline’s POV
The room is full of eyes.
It’s supposed to be a press conference for the unveiling of Wayne Corp’s new charity initiative—a last-ditch effort to fix their public image after weeks of bad PR. A crowd of reporters, employees, and stakeholders have filled the space, some with notepads, others with phones raised, waiting for their headline.
I didn’t come to be polite. I didn’t come to play fair.
I came for this moment.
I stand off to the side, near the back, watching the stage with my arms crossed. I wasn’t invited, obviously. But I didn’t need an invitation. I have something better. Truth.
Up front, Dolly Reid takes the microphone.
She looks immaculate. Curled hair, fake lashes, flawless skin. Her bump is bigger now, and she places a dramatic hand on it like she’s the Virgin Mary preparing for martyrdom.
I know that look. She’s about to cry.
“B
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe lights are bright.Brighter than I expected.The small auditorium is packed, and the subtle buzz of chatter and shuffling heels fills the room as people settle into their seats. My name flashes across the screen behind me: Caroline Hill, Founder of Aline Jewerly.I take a deep breath behind the curtain.It’s not fear I feel. Not exactly. It’s weight.The weight of the journey it took to get here.The years I swallowed my voice. The months I spent trying to rebuild something from the ashes of everything that was taken from me. The nights I lay awake wondering if I was being stupid to keep going.Now I’m here. In my homeland. In front of people who have followed my story—from whispers and headlines to quiet respect. And I’m not just here as someone’s
Penelope’s Point of ViewI’m staring at my untouched cup of tea.The warmth has faded, just like my ability to pretend that everything is fine.Across from me, Caroline leans against the display counter, arms crossed gently over her chest. The jewelry shop is quiet this afternoon—just the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the faint clink of metal as she sorts a few tiny charms on a tray.She glances at me, then at the cold tea I haven’t touched.“You okay?” she asks finally, not pushing, but not pretending she doesn’t notice.I hesitate, then shake my head. “I don’t know.”She walks over and pulls out the stool beside mine, sitting down like she’s settling in for something real.“I’ve been thinking about Lorenzo,” I say quietly, my finge
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe door closes behind us with a soft click.Adrian sets his keys on the counter and gives me a tired smile. “Home sweet home.”I don’t smile back. I just stare at the blood staining the sleeve of his shirt.He notices. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”I cross my arms tightly. “You said that the last time.”He shrugs. “And I was right then, too.”My jaw tightens. “Let me see it.”He sighs but doesn’t argue. He walks toward the bathroom and I follow, watching every step he takes. His limp is faint but there. My chest aches.Inside, he peels off his shirt slowly. I catch my breath.The burn on his arm is deeper than he made it sound. The bruise blooming across his ribs is c
Knoxx’s Point of ViewThe smoke clings to everything—my jacket, my throat, the inside of my damn lungs.The second we’re out, the air feels thin, too light to hold the weight pressing against my ribs. Fire crews are yelling. Someone pulls Adrian aside to check him for burns, but he pushes past them, scanning the area like a madman.And then I hear her.“Adrian!”Her voice cuts through everything.Caroline.She runs toward him, eyes wide, hands trembling. She doesn’t even look at me.It’s like I’m not here.“Caroline,” Adrian breathes, and then she’s in his arms.She grabs the front of his soot-covered shirt and buries her face against his chest. No hesitation. No second thought. Just straight to him.&nbs
Adrian’s Point of ViewThe exhibition hall is buzzing with energy. Booths are lit up in every direction, showcasing jewelry, designs, tools. Voices blend in a symphony of small talk, sales pitches, and the occasional excited laughter when someone finds something they love.But I’m not here for any of that.I’m here for her.And for Liam.“Excuse me,” I ask a staffer near the entrance, “is the Hill & Bloom booth in this wing?”She checks the tablet in her hands and nods. “Yes, sir. Local vendors are in Row C, right-hand side. They’re at the end.”“Thanks.”My heart thuds as I walk, eyes scanning. I know I shouldn’t feel this nervous, but I do. I haven’t seen her since that night she fell asleep on my shoulder. Since she hugged me li
Knoxx’s Point of ViewThe whiskey burns going down, but I don’t flinch.I don’t even blink.I pour another glass. Let it fill to the rim before I bring it to my lips.The house is quiet. Too quiet. Elle’s at her aunt’s place tonight. I told her I had meetings. Told myself I needed time to think.But all I’ve done is sit here. Alone. Drinking. Thinking.And staring at the same damn photo on my phone.Liam.He’s laughing in it. A wide, full smile, his teeth showing. His eyes crinkled at the corners.He’s not even looking at the camera—he’s looking at Caroline. She’s off to the side, probably making him laugh with one of her stupid jokes. He looks happy. Whole.I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, the glass still in my hand.He should’ve been laughing with me.I should’