Isla pov It was really him. As I stared at him, my heart pounded hard against my chest, and the cold night wind bit at my skin. But that wasn’t why I shivered. No, the real reason was the way Alaric was looking at me. There was amusement in his eyes, yes… but also a flicker of something else, something I couldn’t quite decipher. And whatever it was, it sent a chill down my spine. Because in that moment, I knew I had just uncovered a part of him— a part that might change everything between us. “I’m surprised you remembered,” Alaric hummed, the corner of his lips lifting into a faint smirk as his piercing gray eyes narrowed on me.” “How did you remember? For two years at your side, you barely noticed me… and when you did, you tried to ignore me. But now—now you remember.” My breath hitched as he stepped toward me, eyes locked on mine. He easily towered over me, leaning down slightly until his gaze met mine—sharp, intense, unrelenting. I couldn’t breathe. Something in th
Isla pov The tears fell to the ground, hot and relentless. As everything came crashing in at once, my heart hurt. I wasn’t sure why it hurt so much… but it did. How could I not have recognized him? How could I not have realized that the man from two years ago was Alaric? The man who had been abandoned by his real mother. Who was treated as nothing but a mistake by his own family. That man had told me how he was left to burn alive, how he heard his father and stepmother at the door, deciding whether he should live or die. How he was beaten and starved as a child. How he was kidnapped by the very woman who was supposed to be his stepmother. And the only reason he knew it was her… was because he heard the kidnappers talk about her to him. He had refused to believe it. He had hoped—prayed that his family would come for him. But as the days turned to a week, and no one came… He realized no one was looking. The only reason he was able to escape… was luck. The luck of
Third pov Flashback. At that crucial moment when Alaric lost his balance, he thought about the saying that when a person is about to die, their life flashes before their eyes. He had heard that in moments of shock, time would slow down and memories would flicker by— that the brain would rapidly retrieve emotionally charged or core moments as a kind of survival mechanism, replaying a person’s past up to that point. He always thought that was ridiculous. He never believed in it. But now, as he stared at the red-haired girl watching him in horror, his body tilting dangerously to the ground below…it actually happened. Time really did slow down. And those memories came rushing in, all at once. From the day he was just a little boy, no older than six when his abusive mother dragged him to the front of the Voss mansion, screaming that he was the son of the Voss family… before leaving him there. Alone. Sold to the wolves. Then to how he was mistreated, starved, and beaten by the m
Third pov Flashback. The thumping of his heart was all he could hear as he slumped against the wall, eyes closed, panting heavily as he struggled to stay conscious. No, he couldn’t afford to pass out. If he did, they would only wake him and continue their assault, even more enraged than before. He had to stay awake. He had to. So he groaned and peeled his eyes open, and through his blurry vision, he saw four men in front of him. Two of them had beaten him senseless, leaving him bleeding so badly he was certain a few bones were broken by now. The other two sat back, watching the scene unfold like a show, clearly entertained by the sight of him beaten and broken. This was meant to be a lesson, a brutal warning to Alaric Voss to never again dream of stepping out of line. “Haha! Did you see how he flew into the wall? My punch sent him flying and then boom!” Caleb laughed maniacally, his eyes locked on Alaric, who groaned and let his head slump forward, blood dripping steadil
Isla pov “So that was what Liam meant by Mr. Alaric choosing to come here for just one item,” Grace said beside me as she placed her glass of champagne on the table with a smile. “I can’t believe he bought the Mother Pearl necklace, even when the First Lady clearly wanted it.” She spoke in awe before turning to me with a grin. “I think he bought it for you, Miss Isla. Who would’ve thought Mr. Alaric could be romantic?” Her words seemed to fade into the background as my gaze drifted to where Alaric now sat at the president’s table, alongside the First Lady, his grandfather, and his father. When Alaric had declared he wanted to buy the necklace, everyone had been stunned. Even the auctioneer looked momentarily speechless. But when Alaric’s sharp gaze narrowed on him, he seemed to snap out of it and with a booming voice, he declared the necklace sold to Alaric. After the auction, a man in a suit and glasses approached our table, informing Alaric that the president wished to speak w
Isla pov As the auction began, people started bidding on items– vases, antiques, jewelry, relics, and artifacts. And even though I came from a wealthy family, I was never one to spend money casually, especially because I was always afraid my father might lash out at me if I spent too much. Even though Isolde always bought whatever she wanted without consequence... I was scared I’d get in trouble for doing the same. Now, as I watched the room, I saw people bidding as if money meant nothing, tossing it around like water on the ground. It felt like watching the wealthiest people in the United States go to war, not with weapons, but with their wallets. “Five hundred thousand,” a female voice rang out from the crowd, and I turned to see a middle-aged woman smiling gracefully as she held her bidding card in the air. Her smile widened as whispers spread around her. “Wow, five hundred thousand. She must really like that painting,” someone murmured. “That’s Miss Elizabeth, the ow