The name Charles Sinclair weighed heavily on my mind in the days that followed. It was like a puzzle piece that had always been missing, the key to the labyrinth of my past. But knowing who he was didn’t bring relief—it only deepened the sense of dread that had been building inside me. Luke was more vigilant than ever, and our home felt like a fortress. Security cameras, guards, and encrypted communications—he had spared no expense in keeping us safe. But even with all the precautions, the knowledge that a man like Sinclair was out there, possibly plotting his next move, made it hard to breathe easy. We kept in close contact with Calla, who continued digging deeper into Sinclair’s history. She uncovered that he was a man of influence, with ties to both legitimate businesses and underworld dealings. He was known for his ruthlessness—anyone who got in his way tended to disappear, either through financial ruin or far darker means. One evening, as the sun set behind the horizon, Luke
Anne's pov The days that followed our encounter with Victor Harlan were a blur of covert meetings, endless strategy sessions, and moments stolen away in quiet corners with Luke, where the tension between us was always just below the surface. But beneath all the chaos, something was changing in me—something I couldn’t ignore any longer. I had been feeling off for days now: an unexplained exhaustion that lingered no matter how much I slept, a queasiness that came in waves, especially in the mornings. At first, I chalked it up to stress. After all, my life had been nothing but a whirlwind of danger and revelations lately. It made sense that my body would react to the overwhelming tension. But then came the missed period. I tried not to think too much about it at first, brushing off the realization as just another sign of stress. But the days continued to pass, and the nagging suspicion wouldn’t leave me. Something inside me was changing, something more profound than just the weight
Luke's pov I’ve faced plenty of high-stakes situations in my life. Boardroom battles, complex negotiations, moments where millions of dollars rested on a single decision. But nothing, not even the pressure of running Maxwell Industries, and the Blue eagle companies compared to what I was facing now. Anne is pregnant. It’s a fact that hasn’t fully sunk in, no matter how many times I’ve turned it over in my mind. My wife—no, my partner—is carrying our child. A life we created together, in the middle of all this chaos. I never thought fatherhood would come to me like this. Hell, I never thought about fatherhood at all. But now it’s happening, and I have no choice but to figure it out. The moment Anne showed me that pregnancy test, something inside me shifted. A primal need to protect her, to protect our unborn child, kicked in. It was like every other concern I’d had before—the company, the threats we were facing, Sinclair—became secondary. The most important thing in the world was
Luke's pov I didn’t sleep much after the call from Sinclair. How could I? His words echoed in my mind, a sinister taunt that made my blood run cold. The way he so casually threatened Anne—and the baby—was a reminder that I was dealing with someone who had no moral lines. Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to destroy everything I cared about. By the time the sun rose, I was still sitting at my desk, staring at the half-empty glass of scotch in front of me. My head was pounding, and every muscle in my body was tense, ready to spring into action. But what action? That was the problem. I had no idea what Sinclair’s next move would be. The only thing I knew for sure was that I couldn’t let Anne find out about the call. Not yet. She had enough on her plate—dealing with her mother’s secrets, mourning her father, and now, the pregnancy. She didn’t need the added stress of knowing that Sinclair was threatening her life. I was going to have to handle this alone. --- Later that morning, after
Luke's pov The world as I knew it crumbled overnight.I woke up to my phone vibrating relentlessly on the nightstand. It was still dark outside, and Anne was sound asleep beside me. When I grabbed the phone and glanced at the screen, I saw dozens of missed calls and messages, all from people I hadn’t heard from in years, along with the names of close friends, business associates, and—most concerningly—my parents.My stomach twisted as I opened one of the messages from Calla.**Calla:** *We have a problem. Check the news. Stay calm.*The words made my heart race, and I immediately swiped over to my news app. The first headline I saw hit me like a punch to the gut.**BREAKING NEWS: LUKE MAXWELL’S SECRET CONTRACT MARRIAGE EXPOSED! WIFE ACCUSED OF BEING A GOLDDIGGER.**I blinked, trying to process what I was seeing. It couldn’t be real. But it was. Below the headline was a photo of Anne and me, walking out of the courthouse on the day we signed the marriage papers. The article went into
Luke's pov The next morning was quiet. The calm before the inevitable storm. Anne hadn’t left the house since the news broke, and I could feel the weight of everything crushing her. She was barely holding it together, and despite my best efforts to reassure her, I knew that every headline, every comment, every call was slowly chipping away at her strength. I couldn’t take it anymore. As much as I wanted to protect her, I felt helpless. The media wasn’t letting up. My parents were still furious, and Sinclair’s threats lingered like a shadow over us. But then, something happened that I hadn’t expected—something that would change the course of everything. The doorbell rang late in the morning, and I got up to answer it, expecting it to be another delivery of hateful letters or packages. Instead, when I opened the door, I found myself face-to-face with Anne’s mother, Margaret Devlin, the celebrity idol whose face was known worldwide. Today, though, she wasn’t the radiant, glamo
Luke's pov The morning sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the mansion, but the atmosphere was still thick with the tension from the days before. Anne hadn’t said much since her mother’s press conference. Her emotions were a tangled mess of relief, anxiety, and anticipation. As I sat across from her at the breakfast table, I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. She looked up at me, offering a small, tired smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “What happens next?” she asked softly, her fingers playing absentmindedly with the edge of her mug. “We fight,” I said firmly. “We fight Sinclair, and we protect our family.” The weight of the situation hung heavy over both of us, but before we could delve deeper into the conversation, the sound of the doorbell interrupted us. I frowned, glancing at Anne, who shrugged. “I’ll get it,” I said, standing up and heading to the door. When I opened it, I was greeted by a group of impeccably dressed individuals, their pre
"you can't go inside miss, please wait at the reception.." She was lost in her own world. She didn't even hear what the nurse said next. She walked back to the reception, her head down, her eyes filled with tears, she had cried all the way to the hospital. She sat down, lost deep in thoughts. She didn't understand how this happened. Wasn't her own father always warning her to be careful on the road? Why did he end up like that? Hit by unknown car and left to die on the road. Wasn't he careful himself? She couldn't find an answer. She remembered how she had been called and how she had picked up the phone thinking it was her father only to hear a strange voice. She left work in a hurry to the place she had been told her dad was. On arriving there, she found a crowd of people but no one was helping the almost lifeless middle-aged man on the ground. She cried for help but no one helped. Her father
Luke's pov The morning sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the mansion, but the atmosphere was still thick with the tension from the days before. Anne hadn’t said much since her mother’s press conference. Her emotions were a tangled mess of relief, anxiety, and anticipation. As I sat across from her at the breakfast table, I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. She looked up at me, offering a small, tired smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “What happens next?” she asked softly, her fingers playing absentmindedly with the edge of her mug. “We fight,” I said firmly. “We fight Sinclair, and we protect our family.” The weight of the situation hung heavy over both of us, but before we could delve deeper into the conversation, the sound of the doorbell interrupted us. I frowned, glancing at Anne, who shrugged. “I’ll get it,” I said, standing up and heading to the door. When I opened it, I was greeted by a group of impeccably dressed individuals, their pre
Luke's pov The next morning was quiet. The calm before the inevitable storm. Anne hadn’t left the house since the news broke, and I could feel the weight of everything crushing her. She was barely holding it together, and despite my best efforts to reassure her, I knew that every headline, every comment, every call was slowly chipping away at her strength. I couldn’t take it anymore. As much as I wanted to protect her, I felt helpless. The media wasn’t letting up. My parents were still furious, and Sinclair’s threats lingered like a shadow over us. But then, something happened that I hadn’t expected—something that would change the course of everything. The doorbell rang late in the morning, and I got up to answer it, expecting it to be another delivery of hateful letters or packages. Instead, when I opened the door, I found myself face-to-face with Anne’s mother, Margaret Devlin, the celebrity idol whose face was known worldwide. Today, though, she wasn’t the radiant, glamo
Luke's pov The world as I knew it crumbled overnight.I woke up to my phone vibrating relentlessly on the nightstand. It was still dark outside, and Anne was sound asleep beside me. When I grabbed the phone and glanced at the screen, I saw dozens of missed calls and messages, all from people I hadn’t heard from in years, along with the names of close friends, business associates, and—most concerningly—my parents.My stomach twisted as I opened one of the messages from Calla.**Calla:** *We have a problem. Check the news. Stay calm.*The words made my heart race, and I immediately swiped over to my news app. The first headline I saw hit me like a punch to the gut.**BREAKING NEWS: LUKE MAXWELL’S SECRET CONTRACT MARRIAGE EXPOSED! WIFE ACCUSED OF BEING A GOLDDIGGER.**I blinked, trying to process what I was seeing. It couldn’t be real. But it was. Below the headline was a photo of Anne and me, walking out of the courthouse on the day we signed the marriage papers. The article went into
Luke's pov I didn’t sleep much after the call from Sinclair. How could I? His words echoed in my mind, a sinister taunt that made my blood run cold. The way he so casually threatened Anne—and the baby—was a reminder that I was dealing with someone who had no moral lines. Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to destroy everything I cared about. By the time the sun rose, I was still sitting at my desk, staring at the half-empty glass of scotch in front of me. My head was pounding, and every muscle in my body was tense, ready to spring into action. But what action? That was the problem. I had no idea what Sinclair’s next move would be. The only thing I knew for sure was that I couldn’t let Anne find out about the call. Not yet. She had enough on her plate—dealing with her mother’s secrets, mourning her father, and now, the pregnancy. She didn’t need the added stress of knowing that Sinclair was threatening her life. I was going to have to handle this alone. --- Later that morning, after
Luke's pov I’ve faced plenty of high-stakes situations in my life. Boardroom battles, complex negotiations, moments where millions of dollars rested on a single decision. But nothing, not even the pressure of running Maxwell Industries, and the Blue eagle companies compared to what I was facing now. Anne is pregnant. It’s a fact that hasn’t fully sunk in, no matter how many times I’ve turned it over in my mind. My wife—no, my partner—is carrying our child. A life we created together, in the middle of all this chaos. I never thought fatherhood would come to me like this. Hell, I never thought about fatherhood at all. But now it’s happening, and I have no choice but to figure it out. The moment Anne showed me that pregnancy test, something inside me shifted. A primal need to protect her, to protect our unborn child, kicked in. It was like every other concern I’d had before—the company, the threats we were facing, Sinclair—became secondary. The most important thing in the world was
Anne's pov The days that followed our encounter with Victor Harlan were a blur of covert meetings, endless strategy sessions, and moments stolen away in quiet corners with Luke, where the tension between us was always just below the surface. But beneath all the chaos, something was changing in me—something I couldn’t ignore any longer. I had been feeling off for days now: an unexplained exhaustion that lingered no matter how much I slept, a queasiness that came in waves, especially in the mornings. At first, I chalked it up to stress. After all, my life had been nothing but a whirlwind of danger and revelations lately. It made sense that my body would react to the overwhelming tension. But then came the missed period. I tried not to think too much about it at first, brushing off the realization as just another sign of stress. But the days continued to pass, and the nagging suspicion wouldn’t leave me. Something inside me was changing, something more profound than just the weight
The name Charles Sinclair weighed heavily on my mind in the days that followed. It was like a puzzle piece that had always been missing, the key to the labyrinth of my past. But knowing who he was didn’t bring relief—it only deepened the sense of dread that had been building inside me. Luke was more vigilant than ever, and our home felt like a fortress. Security cameras, guards, and encrypted communications—he had spared no expense in keeping us safe. But even with all the precautions, the knowledge that a man like Sinclair was out there, possibly plotting his next move, made it hard to breathe easy. We kept in close contact with Calla, who continued digging deeper into Sinclair’s history. She uncovered that he was a man of influence, with ties to both legitimate businesses and underworld dealings. He was known for his ruthlessness—anyone who got in his way tended to disappear, either through financial ruin or far darker means. One evening, as the sun set behind the horizon, Luke
Anne's pov The locket felt cool against my skin as I fastened it around my neck. It was a weight I didn’t know I needed—a piece of the past I was now willing to carry. It didn’t absolve my mother of all the years of silence, but it was a start. A fragile bridge between us. As I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the small silver pendant resting above my heart, I wondered what came next. My life had been a series of unpredictable events ever since I signed that contract with Luke. What had started as a desperate deal to save my father had led me to uncovering the hidden legacy I never asked for. And now, it seemed I wasn’t just navigating the complexity of love—I was also running from shadows. A knock on the bedroom door pulled me from my thoughts. Luke stepped inside, his eyes catching on the locket immediately. He walked over and gently lifted it between his fingers, examining the delicate piece. “It looks good on you,” he said quietly. I smiled, though it didn’t quite re
Days passed since the envelope had arrived. I couldn’t shake the feeling that my entire life had been built on lies and shadows, but at least now, I had a semblance of understanding. My mother had sacrificed everything to keep me safe, but the safety had come at a cost—a lifetime of absence, of missed moments that could never be reclaimed.I stared at the letter again, its edges already worn from the number of times I’d read it. Luke had caught me with it more than once, but he hadn’t pressed me to talk. He had always been good at giving me space when I needed it, even though I could tell he was worried. Finally, one evening as we sat together in the quiet of our home, I broke the silence.“She didn’t have to disappear,” I murmured, more to myself than to him. “She didn’t have to let me go like that.” Luke looked over at me, his expression gentle but filled with understanding. “She thought it was the only way to protect you.”I nodded, my fingers tracing the outline of the wax s