로그인Third-Person POV
It was her day off, and Raina Foster had just rolled out of bed. She was lounging in the living room, munching on junk food and watching a soap opera, when she got a call from her best friend, Fiona. She was an agent for a soccer team and had just wrapped up the season, so she had some free time. She was glad Fiona was calling, they could plan to go out tonight. But she secretly hoped Fiona’s husband wouldn’t tag along; he always killed the vibe. “Hey, babes! Thank God you called! I’ve got the day off. What do you say we go shake our booties a little? I’m sure you need it,” she said in her usual bubbly, over-the-top way. “Hi, babes. I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood to go out today…” Fiona replied from the other end. “What’s wrong with you?” Raina’s expression turned serious. She could hear Fiona’s voice was hoarse, like she’d been crying. “Don’t tell me Sebastian Blackwood made you cry!” Raina sat bolt upright on the couch, the bag of Doritos forgotten. She worried a lot about her friend and that contract marriage she never approved of. She heard Fiona sigh on the line and already guessed the problem. “It’s just… I was kind of an idiot, you know, believing something could work out between him and me. But as soon as Ross came back to town, he asked for a divorce,” she explained with a little laugh, but Raina knew it was hitting Fiona way harder than she let on. Of course. Raina had been there from the start. “So Sebastian and I are getting divorced,” Fi concluded. “Divorce?” Raina’s voice shot up without meaning to. This news was shocking; she could barely believe it. And all because of his ex? No way! Raina knew her girl didn’t deserve that. Elijah Foster, dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase as he prepared to head to work, froze at the word. Fiona wanted a divorce? Elijah was Raina’s brother. He worked at a law firm and was a well-known lawyer in the city. Both Raina and Elijah were Black and stunning, with a commanding presence that turned heads wherever they went. And both adored Fiona. “What happened to Fiona?” Elijah asked his sister, concerned. Raina waved her phone, signaling she was getting more details. “DAMN IT! He dumped you because his first love came back? A horrible man like that should go straight to hell!” she was already freaking out. “I really didn’t expect this from him…” Fiona commented, her voice choked, like she was about to cry again. “Oh, dear, please calm down. Where are you right now?” she asked, wanting nothing more than to support Fiona in this moment. “I’m at some random park, thinking about all this, you know,” Fiona laughed at her own situation. “Wait for me there, girl, okay? Your friend’s coming to take care of you. Just wait! Kisses,” she said and hung up, still pissed off. “What happened? Fiona’s getting divorced?” Elijah asked, hungry for confirmation. “Yeah, bro. Looks like Sebastian Blackwood, that asshole, is leaving Fiona to get back with an ex,” she explained angrily. Elijah frowned. “Is that for real? Like, who in their right mind would do something like that?” He seemed incredulous, especially since he’d always harbored feelings for Fiona, and Raina knew it. To him, Fiona was perfect, the woman he’d always wanted and loved in secret, even while she insisted on staying married to someone else. So to him, it was absurd for any man to leave her, even if that man was Sebastian Blackwood. “Well, we’re talking about that arrogant billionaire, so we can expect anything from him, right?” Raina sighed exasperatedly, now standing with her hands on her hips, still in disbelief. “Man, I’m so pissed. How is this even possible? After all my girl gave him, to end up traded like garbage? I hate that stuck-up piece of shit!” Raina started pacing the living room. Her body language screamed manic energy. She cursed Sebastian nonstop for three minutes. In her eyes, Fiona was the kindest, most lovable woman in the world. The man who disappointed Fiona deserved to die. Her eyes met Elijah’s worried gaze. Though quieter than Raina, he carried the same fury in his eyes. “She needs us now more than ever, right?” He was worried about Fiona. Of course. She knew. Maybe, after Fiona’s divorce, Elijah would finally have a shot at winning her over. Raina might even find it cute to see her best friend and brother in a romance, but that depended on Fiona and whether she wanted Elijah too, especially now that her heart was broken. So Raina wouldn’t meddle. “I’m heading out to see her now,” Raina said, stopping in front of the mirror on the living room wall to fix her flowing curly hair and apply lipstick before grabbing her purse. “Can I come with you?” Elijah asked, sounding a bit eager. Raina gave him a side-eye. “Didn’t you say you had an important meeting today?” He’d been talking about that meeting all week. “Whoops, look!” Elijah pulled out his phone, typed something quickly, and signaled. “Meeting canceled!” Raina rolled her eyes. “How inconvenient of you! This was supposed to be a girls’ night at the bar, okay? We’re going to trash-talk men, we don’t want you making it awkward.” “Raina, Fiona’s my friend too. I need to be there for her,” he insisted. He didn’t need anything, Raina knew what Elijah really wanted with Fiona. “Promise you won’t start hitting on her.” He sighed. “I can’t promise that.” “You can. Fiona’s not in the headspace for it right now.” “But this could be my chance to turn things in my favor, okay? I want to show her I’m way better than that idiot Blackwood. If she’s with me, she’ll never have to fear going through this, so she can give me her heart without worry,” Elijah said, still dreaming of having Fiona as he always had. Raina sighed and grabbed her keys. “Okay, fine. But behave, okay? Or I’ll have to kick your ass,” she threatened, stretching out her leg to demonstrate. Raina was an athlete, she knew how to fight. Elijah bolted out of the apartment laughing, with Raina chasing after him, threatening to kick his butt. And so both went to see Fiona.The late afternoon sun bathed the elegant garden venue in a warm, golden light, filtering through the leaves of ancient oak trees and casting soft patterns across the white aisle runner. White and blush roses intertwined with delicate greenery along the wooden arch at the end of the path, creating a romantic backdrop that felt both timeless and deeply personal. Fiona stood at the beginning of the aisle, her heart fluttering with a mixture of nerves and overwhelming joy. Her wedding dress was a vision of understated elegance, a flowing A-line gown in soft ivory silk with subtle lace details across the bodice and sleeves that caught the light with every movement. Her hair was styled in loose waves, adorned with small pearl pins that had once belonged to her mother.At her side, three-year-old Colin and Edward bounced with excitement, their tiny tuxedos looking impossibly adorable on their energetic frames. The twins clutched small wicker baskets filled with pink and white rose petals,
Third POVA full year had slipped by behind the cold concrete walls of the state penitentiary, each day blending into the next with a rigid routine that forced Sebastian Blackwood to confront parts of himself he had long avoided. Life inside was harsh but strangely clarifying. The clang of metal doors, the constant hum of voices, and the limited freedoms shaped a new reality for him. Every week without fail, he sat at a small metal desk in the common area and wrote letters to Irene. At first, they were short and hesitant, simple notes asking how she was doing and offering awkward apologies that never quite captured the depth of his regret. Over time, however, the words began to flow more freely. He described the monotonous days: early mornings in the prison yard, the library hours where he read everything from philosophy to self-help books, and the small circle of unlikely friends he had made among the other inmates. Some were men serving time for white-collar crimes, others carri
Third POVThe months slipped by quietly, weaving themselves into a new rhythm that felt both familiar and refreshingly balanced. Fiona Blackwood’s life had settled into a steady, satisfying groove she could never have imagined during the chaotic years that came before. As CEO of Empowear, she arrived at the sleek headquarters most mornings with a clear mind and a sense of purpose that energized her. Board meetings, design reviews, and strategy sessions filled her days, but she had learned to delegate effectively and protect her time with the same fierce determination her mother had shown before her. The company continued to thrive under her leadership, with new sustainable collections receiving glowing reviews and strong sales figures that made her proud.Evenings belonged first to her twins. Colin and Edward, now energetic toddlers with matching mischievous grins, kept her on her toes with their endless curiosity and sudden bursts of laughter. She cherished the chaotic bedtime rou
Third POVThe ICU room was bathed in soft, clinical light, the steady rhythm of machines creating a mechanical lullaby that filled the space with both hope and dread. Sebastian Blackwood stood just outside the glass partition, his tall frame motionless as he watched Irene lie motionless in the hospital bed. Tubes and wires connected her to monitors that tracked every heartbeat, every breath. Bandages covered parts of her arms and torso, and her face, though peaceful in unconsciousness, still bore faint traces of soot and healing bruises from the explosion. He knew this scene was his punishment, a living hell he had created with his own hands. The woman he loved more than anything was fighting for her life because of his choices, and there was nothing he could do but stand there, powerless, bearing witness to the consequences.He had barely left the hospital since the night of the explosion. Days blurred together in a haze of guilt and quiet desperation. The sterile smell of antisept
Third POVThe afternoon traffic in Manhattan moved at its usual frustrating crawl, but Amber Morton barely noticed. She had promised herself she would check on Irene again today, bringing a fresh batch of her favorite herbal tea and some magazines to help distract her friend from the emotional wreckage of the past week. The model had been worried since their last long conversation. Irene was trying to appear stronger, but the betrayal still cut deep, and Amber knew how dangerous it was to let someone sit alone with that kind of pain for too long.As her taxi turned onto Irene’s street, Amber’s heart suddenly lurched. Thick black smoke poured from the upper floors of the elegant pre-war building where her friend lived. Flames licked visibly from what looked like Irene’s apartment windows. People on the sidewalk were already pointing and shouting, some recording with their phones while others backed away in panic. Without thinking, Amber shoved a handful of bills at the driver and bol
Third POVThe days following Irene’s abrupt return from the Maldives blurred into a haze of quiet grief and cautious rebuilding. She spent most of her time inside her Upper East Side apartment, surrounded by the familiar comforts she had once taken for granted: soft throw blankets, half-read novels stacked on the coffee table, and the faint scent of her favorite lavender candle. Amber had been a constant presence, bringing takeout meals, forcing her to shower when she forgot, and simply sitting with her in silence when words felt too heavy. Slowly, very slowly, Irene began to feel a fragile sense of stability returning. The raw shock had dulled into a persistent ache, but at least she could breathe without every inhale feeling like broken glass in her lungs.On the afternoon of the fifth day back, Irene sat curled on her couch with a cup of chamomile tea cooling in her hands. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting gentle patterns across the hardwood floor. She stared
Fiona POV I lay on my side facing Maverick, our legs tangled under the soft white sheets. The bedroom lamp cast a warm golden circle over us, making his skin look even warmer in the low light. My fingers traced slow patterns across his cheek, along the line of his jaw, down to the faint stubble t
Third POV Maverick stood in front of the full-length mirror in the small private room at the back of the London venue. The space was simple: white walls, a single window letting in pale morning light, a wooden chair, and a small table with his cufflinks and watch. He wore a charcoal gray suit wit
Fiona POV I slipped Maverick's tuxedo jacket over my shoulders the moment we stepped out of the car in front of my mother's brownstone in Brooklyn. The January wind cut through the thin velvet of my gown, but his jacket carried his warmth and the faint scent of cedar and bergamot that always calm
Third POV Fiona sat at her vanity table in the soft glow of the bedroom lamp. The mirror reflected her face, calm, a little tired, but peaceful in a way she had not felt in years. She wore a pale silk nightgown that fell loose over her body, the fabric cool against her skin. Her short hair was st







