LOGINRoman's Point Of View I slammed the car door harder than necessary, the sound cutting through the quiet like a final punctuation to everything that had just happened. For a second, I didn't start the engine. I just sat there. Hands resting on the steering wheel, fingers curled loosely around the worn leather. My breathing came steady, measured… a deliberate contrast to the storm I'd just walked away from. Eyes fixed ahead, I stared through the windshield, but the road before me remained a blur of unfocused shapes and shadows. My gaze drifted to the passenger seat. The file sat there, its manila surface catching the late afternoon light. Neat. Untouched. Too pristine for something that had just dragged an entire family through hell and back again. I reached over and tapped it once with my fingers, the gesture almost reverent, then leaned back into the seat. The leather creaked beneath my weight, a familiar sound that usually brought comfort. Not today. "Damn."
Graham's Point Of View "I've had enough of this nonsense." The words emerged quietly, almost conversational in their delivery. They didn't need volume to carry weight. Everything about the way he stood… spine straight, shoulders relaxed, the way the gun rested in his hand like a natural extension of his arm, the way his eyes swept across the room without urgency, without panic, without the slightest flicker of doubt. That was enough. I froze for half a second, my muscles locking involuntarily. Not out of fear, though my heart hammered against my ribs. Out of disbelief. This situation had spiraled further than I'd anticipated, further than any of us could have imagined. Way further. And the worst part, the detail that made my stomach turn? We had walked straight into it, blind and arrogant. "Graham—" My mother's voice trembled, a hairline fracture running through her usually steady tone. That alone was enough to snap me back to the present moment. I moved, ad
Graham's Point Of View"He says he's here for the files." The words settled into the room like oil dropped into water… thick, heavy, spreading slowly, impossible to ignore. They hung in the air between us, carrying a weight that made my chest tighten. I frowned immediately, turning fully toward the man at the door. My pulse quickened despite my attempt to remain composed. "He's outside right now?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, edged with something between disbelief and anger. The staff member nodded, his discomfort evident in the way he shifted his weight. "Yes, sir. He refused to leave. I told him to come back tomorrow, but he insisted on waiting." I glanced at my father, half-expecting him to dismiss the intrusion entirely. He didn't hesitate. "Let's go." Of course. No questions. No second thoughts. No pause to consider what this might mean or who might have sent this stranger to our door. Just straight into confrontation, as if the night hadn't already unravel
Graham's Point Of View "Do you think Elena is behind it?" The question didn't hit me the way it should have. It didn't shock me. Didn't anger me. It just… settled. Heavy. Expected. Like a stone dropping into still water, sending ripples I'd already anticipated. I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I studied him, really looked at him. At the way his eyes had narrowed again, sharp and calculating, like everything had already shifted from anger to strategy. To suspicion. To blame. It was a familiar transformation, one I'd witnessed countless times throughout my life. My father never stayed vulnerable for long. I exhaled slowly, my gaze dropping briefly to the signed documents on the table before lifting back to him. The papers seemed to mock us both, sitting there so innocuously despite the chaos they represented. I paused. Because the answer wasn't simple, and he wouldn't accept anything complicated. Not right now. Not when everything was burning around us and he needed
Graham's Point Of View"I'll sign it."The moment the words left my mouth, something in the room shifted. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just enough.My father's shoulders eased slightly, like a tension he'd been holding finally found a place to settle. The lines around his mouth softened, though his expression remained carefully controlled."Now you're talking sense," he said.His tone carried approval, but it wasn't warm. It was the kind of approval you gave a business decision, not a person. The kind that made you feel like a chess piece moved correctly across the board.My mother didn't waste time. She pushed the papers closer to me across the desk, the sound of them sliding against the polished wood loud in the silence. Her movements were precise, practiced, she'd orchestrated far more significant transactions than this."Good," she said softly, though her voice held an edge of finality. "Let's not drag this any further."I stared at the documents. My name was still there, printed
Graham's Point Of View"These are divorce papers." The words didn't register immediately. They hung in the air, suspended, as though my mind needed a few extra seconds to catch up with what my ears had just heard. It felt like being underwater… everything muffled, distorted, moving too slowly. My gaze dropped to the documents in my mother's hand. Then back to her face. Then back to the papers again. "No." The word came out under my breath. Barely audible. "That's not…" I took a step forward, reaching for them, but my hand stopped midway. My fingers trembled slightly, hovering in the space between us. Because I already knew. Before even reading a single line, something in my chest had already accepted it. That hollow, sinking feeling, the one you get when your body understands what your mind refuses to acknowledge. My mother watched me carefully, her expression a mixture of concern and something else I couldn't quite name. Pity, perhaps. "Graham?" I didn't answer. I
Elena’s Point Of ViewThe room was silent… so silent I could hear the pulse of my own blood in my ears, the shallow breaths of the people around me, the tick of the grandfather clock in the corner like a countdown to something final. Graham’s face was pale, his jaw clenched, his eyes wild with some
Elena’s Point Of ViewThe grand doors of the Sinclair Estate loomed before me, their polished mahogany surfaces reflecting the cold, unfeeling glow of the chandelier above. I stood there for a moment, my breath steady, my fingers flexing at my sides. In. I exhaled sharply. Out. My lungs filled with
Elena’s Point Of View"Who did this to you?" His voice was a growl, low and dangerous, each word a promise of violence, of retribution, of something so dark it sent a shiver down my spine.My fingers twitched at my sides, my heart still pounding from the adrenaline, from the fight, from the sheer r
Elena’s Point Of ViewMatilda’s face twisted, her breath hitching in her throat like she’d been slapped, because she had been, not with my hand, but with my words. Her voice trembled, outraged, her hand twitching at her side like she was considering it… actually considering raising it to strike me.







