Evander’s POV
"Mr. Kensington, I am glad to have a cooperation with you!" Miss Jessica, my recent business partner, said, her tone sweet as she reached out as she attempted to hold my hand.
I stepped back, maintaining a polite distance and nodding curtly. Her hand hovered awkwardly in the air before she slowly withdrew it, her expression faltering. I didn’t care. I had no intention of letting even the faintest rumor start about being involved with another woman.
In the past, I had been forced to take Susan as my personal assistant. It was my mother’s insistence— a request that wasn’t really a request. For , defying her words had never been an option. At that ti, I didn’t think much of it. I trusted her judgnt, though now, looking back, I could see how carefully calculated it had all been.
Every detail, every decision, was part of a larger sche. My mother had woven her plans so ticulously that I had walked right into her trap without realizing it. She had set everything in motion, conspiring behind my back.
It wasn’t just about — it was about Claire. How much had my mother done to keep us apart? How many lies had she spun, how many manipulations had she orchestrated, all while pretending to act in my best interest?
Claire and I had paid the price for my blind obedience, and now, no amount of regret could undo the damage that had been done.
"Mr. Kensington, I heard that your so-called relationship is just a perception created by the dia," Jessica said with a coy smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her overly deliberate gestures made my skin crawl. "You are not in a relationship with Miss Susan."
"Sure. I don’t," I replied coldly, keeping my tone curt and disinterested.
"Then, can I invite you for dinner tonight?" She asked, her voice laced with feigned politeness, though her persistence was beginning to test my patience.
Jessica had been attempting to get close to for what felt like forever, and by now, her efforts were nothing short of frustrating. "I don’t like to have dinner," I responded, hoping the bluntness would discourage her. But no— her shalessness was unmatched, almost impressive in a way that I wanted to learn from her.
Her face paled slightly at my reply, though she quickly recovered, trying again. "Oh, you must be on a diet," she said with an awkward laugh, pressing on without missing a beat. "Then let’s et for breakfast instead. I could—"
Before she could finish her sentence, I cut her off sharply. "I might not be hungry in the morning," I said, cringing inwardly as the words left my mouth. It was a line straight out of one of Damian’s scripts— a cheesy response I never thought I’d catch myself using.
Jessica stood there, her expression unreadable, but I had no intention of lingering to see how she would recover. I had indulged in this conversation far longer than I should have. Her persistence was relentless, but I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of even an inch.
But all hail to her courage; she still wasn’t giving up. Just as she stepped forward, clearly ready to launch another attempt, my phone rang. The sharp tone cut through the tension. I glanced at the screen— it was Sissy’s contact. I could still rember her number.
Without a mont’s hesitation, I accepted the call. Anything was better than enduring Jessica’s persistence for another second.
I half-expected Sissy to issue one of her usual warnings, telling to stay away from Claire. That’s how most of our conversations went— predictable and laced with her disdain. But what I hadn’t expected was what followed next.
Her voice was filled with worry. My grip on the phone tightened as her words sank in. She didn’t make a call to ddle in my personal life this ti.
Claire had gone to see my mother and confront her!
Just what the hell do you have in your mind, Claire Reed? I couldn’t shake the thought as I ended the call, my mind still reeling from the last night’s conversation with Gloria.
I turned to leave, eager to get to Claire as soon as possible, but Jessica wasn’t ready to let go so easily.
"Excuse , why are you leaving so early?" She asked, her brows raised in mock curiosity. Her tone was laced with challenge, but I wasn’t in the mood for gas.
I turned around, my eyes narrowing as I glared at her. "Miss Jessica, this is the last ti I am attending a eting this early. My wife doesn’t like eting other won in the morning," I said, my voice cold and final.
Without waiting for her response, I spun on my heel and walked away. As I exited, I could practically feel her seething in anger behind , but I didn’t care. Her frustration was the least of my worries right now. I had bigger things to figure out—like what exactly Claire had in her mind.
I started the car and drove fast, reaching the location quickly. I saw Gloria by the glass walls, glaring at Claire. I almost jumped out of the car and I nearly did. By the ti I reached the cafe, she was gone. I rushed inside, but she was nowhere to be found. My frustration grew. What had just happened? Where had she gone? What has she done to my Claire?
I ran to the cafe, pushed the door, and entered, only to find...
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Hello, dear readers. Soone said that writing it makes the story stagnant as I keep changing the POVs. Is it so? Please do suggest , as this is my first ti writing this way! Should I write in the third POV? If not, how can I explain the feelings of the other characters? I am sorry, but I got a bit confused after the comnt!
Please do suggest ! Thank you, and keep supporting!
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