"Ezra, you're seeing things. Let’s get into the car," Ethan managed to say, steadying his voice even though his own heart was hammering.Ezra kept staring into the distance, like he was hoping she would reappear if he just stared hard enough. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the muscles in his arms twitching with tension. He blinked a few times, swallowed hard, and finally dragged himself toward the car.He didn’t say a word as he climbed into the backseat beside Ethan. The door clicked shut behind him with a soft thud that sounded way too loud in the heavy silence.Their driver, a tall, quiet man dressed in black, gave a small nod and started the engine. He pulled out of the parking lot carefully, obeying every traffic rule like he had all the time in the world.Inside the car, the air was thick and heavy.Ezra stared out the window, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might snap. His fingers tapped an erratic rhythm against his thigh, his mind obviously still stuc
The day before her wedding, Olive Bennett couldn’t contain her excitement. Her white lace wedding gown hung neatly on the closet door, and her veil lay folded on the bed. Everything she had ever dreamed of was about to come true—marrying Frank, the man she had loved for six years, in front of friends and family. She glanced at the clock. Delilah, her stepsister, was supposed to help her with last-minute wedding details, but she was late, as usual. Olive sighed and decided to make herself some tea. The apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. As she stirred honey into her tea, Olive’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. It was Frank. “Hey, babe,” she answered cheerfully. “Hey, I left my cufflinks at your place,” Frank said. “Mind if I swing by and grab them?” Olive smiled. “Sure. They’re in the bedroom drawer. I’ll leave the door unlocked.” “Thanks. I’ll be there in ten.” Olive decided to take a quick shower before Frank arrived. She left her phon
The following morning, Olive woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing incessantly on the coffee table. She had fallen asleep on the couch, her face streaked with dried tears. Her eyes burned, and her head throbbed as she groggily reached for the phone. A flood of messages and missed calls greeted her. Most were from concerned friends and family checking on last-minute wedding details. But there was one from Frank, and just seeing his name made her stomach churn. We need to talk. Call me. Olive stared at the message, her heart heavy with anger and pain. What more was there to say? She had seen everything she needed to. She tossed the phone aside and sank back into the couch, burying her face in her hands. The betrayal was still fresh, the memory of Frank and Diana together replaying in her mind like a broken record. Delilah’s smirk, her mocking words, and the damning pregnancy test result—all of it left Olive feeling raw and exposed. Olive decided she couldn’t stay in the apartmen
Olive adjusted the strap of her suitcase as she maneuvered through the crowded airport. The din of announcements over the intercom and the bustling of passengers filled the air. Her chest felt heavy, weighed down by the betrayal and heartbreak that had unraveled her life in just a matter of hours. Each step felt like she was leaving behind the fragments of a dream she had clung to for years—a life with Frank, a family she thought she could trust. But that dream was dead now, and she had to move forward.She gripped her boarding pass tightly, as if it were her lifeline. Her destination was New York City. It wasn’t a place she’d dreamed of living, but it was far enough from the chaos she was escaping. It was a city big enough to lose herself in, to start over without the judgmental stares and whispered rumors that would undoubtedly follow her back home.Olive inhaled deeply as she stopped at a coffee counter to order something warm. The sleepless night had drained her, leaving her jitte
Olive stood at the window of her temporary hotel room, staring out at the city that was both foreign and overwhelming. New York’s endless buzz felt like a cruel mirror of the turmoil inside her. Her fingers drummed on the edge of the windowpane as her mind reeled from everything that had unfolded.This city was supposed to be her escape. It was supposed to be a place where she could start fresh, leave her broken engagement and family betrayals behind, and figure out what to do next. But instead of finding peace, she was now saddled with a mystery pregnancy and a gnawing fear that her life was spiraling out of control.“I need to find a place,” she murmured, pacing the room. Living in a hotel felt too transient, too uncertain. She needed stability, even if only the kind a proper apartment could offer.---The search for a new home consumed most of her day. Olive wandered through neighborhoods, touring cramped apartments and overpriced studios. Nothing felt right. The city was bustling,
Olive sat in the cramped seat of the plane, her fingers tracing the outline of the leather handbag resting on her lap. She had only packed the essentials—clothes, a few personal items, and the lingering sense of uncertainty about what awaited her back in Chicago. For the first time in days, she felt a small but real sense of calm. She had made up her mind. New York was where she wanted to build her life. It would be her escape, her fresh start.The past three days in New York had done something for her—brought her peace, gave her space, and allowed her to breathe. The messages from her father had only confirmed that there was no going back to the life she had known. She wasn’t the same woman who had left Chicago, and she never would be again.As the plane touched down in Chicago, Olive stared out of the window, unsure of what she was walking into. It was hot for the middle of the afternoon, and the heat pressed against the window as the aircraft taxied to the gate. She had no intentio
Olive left the hospital with a heavy heart. The encounter with Raymond Stone was still fresh in her mind, but she couldn’t dwell on it. She had more pressing issues to deal with. As she hailed a cab to the courthouse, her thoughts raced. She had to face Frank, her ex-fiancé, and his ridiculous demands. The very idea of compensating him for “wasting his time” felt absurd, but Olive knew she had to remain calm and strong. The courthouse loomed ahead, and as the cab stopped, Olive paid the driver and stepped out. She saw her lawyer, Henry Porter, waiting for her near the entrance. Helen gave her a reassuring smile, but Olive’s attention was quickly drawn to the two figures standing near the steps—Frank and her sister, Delilah. Delilah spotted her first and smirked, her eyes filled with mockery. She stepped forward, holding an envelope. “Oh, dear sister,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “you’re just in time. I have something special for you.” Delilah tossed the envelope at
Olive stared at her phone after ending the call with Dr. Harris. Her chest tightened with anger, frustration, and disbelief. The audacity of the situation was overwhelming, and the very idea of carrying Raymond Stone’s child felt like a cruel joke. She had been an unwilling participant in someone else’s mistake. The fact that she had been accidentally inseminated with Raymond Stone’s child felt like a violation of her very being.“Surrogacy mistake,” she muttered bitterly. “As if that excuses anything.”She got up from the couch and paced the living room, her thoughts spiraling. “How could they confuse me with someone else?” she muttered. “This is my life they’re playing with!”At the same time, Dr. Harris sat in his office, staring at his phone. His palms were sweaty as he replayed Olive’s words in his mind: “Pretend it never happened. I’m terminating this child.”Before he could gather his thoughts, his phone buzzed again. The name on the screen made his stomach drop—Raymond Stone.
"Ezra, you're seeing things. Let’s get into the car," Ethan managed to say, steadying his voice even though his own heart was hammering.Ezra kept staring into the distance, like he was hoping she would reappear if he just stared hard enough. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the muscles in his arms twitching with tension. He blinked a few times, swallowed hard, and finally dragged himself toward the car.He didn’t say a word as he climbed into the backseat beside Ethan. The door clicked shut behind him with a soft thud that sounded way too loud in the heavy silence.Their driver, a tall, quiet man dressed in black, gave a small nod and started the engine. He pulled out of the parking lot carefully, obeying every traffic rule like he had all the time in the world.Inside the car, the air was thick and heavy.Ezra stared out the window, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might snap. His fingers tapped an erratic rhythm against his thigh, his mind obviously still stuc
Ezra looked up to his brother, his eyes bloodshot, the kind of red that told Ethan his brother had been fighting some kind of battle in silence. It was a look that spoke of exhaustion, grief, and something darker, deeper — something Ethan wasn’t ready to face."Come sit closer to me, Ezra," he said, his voice soft but urgent, as if the space between them might be too wide for comfort.Ezra shuffled closer, his movements stiff, robotic, as if every inch of him weighed a hundred pounds. He didn’t speak, didn’t meet Ethan’s gaze, just lowered his head and stared at the floor. His hands fidgeted in his lap, twisting and turning, as if he was trying to hold on to something — something that might slip away if he wasn’t careful.Ethan didn’t stop asking questions."What’s going on, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Did something happen?"But Ezra didn’t answer. The silence between them grew louder with each unanswered question, each strained breath. Ethan’s worry deepened.A thousand t
Just as Ezra stood there fighting a losing battle with his own thoughts, the sound of footsteps broke the heavy silence. He barely glanced up.Nurse Janet walked by, balancing a tray of medication in her hands. She paused when she noticed him — a broken figure leaning against the cold wall like he couldn’t keep himself standing straight."Hello," Nurse Janet greeted gently, her voice carrying a kindness that somehow made everything inside Ezra feel worse.It dragged him out of his spiraling thoughts for a moment. He forced himself to stand a little straighter, wiping at his face quickly as if he could hide the tears that had already betrayed him.Nurse Janet offered him a warm smile, her eyes crinkling softly at the corners. "Why are you down like this? You should be happy," she said, balancing the tray carefully. "Your brother’s alive. It’s a thing of joy."Ezra opened his mouth, but no words came out at first. He pressed his lips together, trying to breathe past the tightness in his
"Oh, I see," Raymond said, his voice low and bitter. "That’s your plan, right? Your plan to kill her?"Ezra blinked, stunned, feeling like Raymond had just slapped him across the face."No, Raymond," he said quickly, shaking his head, heart pounding against his ribs. "No... I just want to confirm she's okay."Raymond stared at him slowly, as if he was peeling Ezra apart layer by layer with just his eyes. His gaze was cold. Distant. Dangerous."Ezra," he said, his tone almost mocking, "tell me something… what exactly is your plan? Haven't you done enough already?"Ezra clenched his fists at his sides, feeling the heat rising in his chest. He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes tightly.He opened them again, forcing himself to meet Raymond’s furious glare without flinching."Raymond," Ezra said carefully, steadying his voice, "we might be connected to Olive. Somehow. We just... need to find out the truth."Raymond gave a short, cold laugh. No humor in it. Just pain."Connected?" he rep
The nurse turned and looked at Ezra, her expression unreadable. “Sorry, sir,” she said flatly, then turned away.It was as if the moment never happened. The nurses resumed their tasks in silence, their quiet efficiency louder than any words. Ezra stood there, ears ringing from the weight of what he’d just heard. That silence… it wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he needed. He didn’t want calm or polite shrugs—he wanted answers. He wanted someone to tell him that what he heard was wrong.With panic rising in his chest, Ezra spun on his heel and ran down the corridor. He remembered the ward Olive had been in, where Raymond's assistant had guarded the door like his life depended on it.His heart pounded in his ears, his shoes squeaking across the tiles. When he reached the room, he yanked the door open.Empty.The bed was stripped. Machines unplugged. Everything was so neat, it was like she’d never been there.“No. No, no, no—” he whispered, stumbling back a step.A nurse was inside,
Olive lost her childEthan felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. His eyes were fixed on nothing, yet everything around him swirled in chaos. His chest rose and fell sharply as the weight of Ezra’s words settled in.“She… she lost the baby?” His voice cracked, almost too soft to hear.Ezra nodded, his face drawn. “Yeah. The doctor said the trauma and stress were too much.”A silence fell between them.Ethan turned his face away, ashamed. “This is my fault,” he said bitterly. “All of it. If I hadn’t given in to Mia’s manipulations—if I hadn’t allowed my hatred for Raymond to blind me—Olive wouldn’t have been hurt.”Ezra didn’t respond at first. He just sat down beside Ethan’s hospital bed, leaning forward with his hands clasped. His posture was stiff. They had both walked the same path, driven by envy and resentment, thinking they were justified. But now, the consequences stared them down in the most brutal way.“You’re not alone in this,” Ezra finally said. “I let my emotions t
As soon as Ezra bent to pick up the object, Frank had already realized what it was. With desperation fueling his bruised and battered body, he lunged forward, ignoring the searing pain in his ribs, and snatched the phone off the ground before Ezra’s fingers could graze it.Ezra stood up slowly, straightening his jacket with the composure of a man who had not just been in a fight minutes ago. He smirked coldly. “We have to end this here. I have better things to do than stand here breathing the same air as you… unless, of course, you’re asking to die.”Frank chuckled despite the blood dribbling from the side of his mouth. His eyes, though nearly swollen shut, gleamed with something more dangerous than fury—conviction. “Ezra, you really do think highly of yourself.”He lifted the phone, his thumb dangerously close to the screen. “You see this? You’re not getting it back. This time, I’ll make sure it gets to the authorities. You won’t be able to lie your way out of this.”Ezra’s expressio
“What truth are you talking about?” Ezra asked, his voice edged with curiosity as he lifted himself from the body of his car. His head was feeling dizzy because of the stress lately but it seems Frank has something to say about him.A smug smirk played on Frank's lips.“Oh... look who suddenly wants the truth,” he said with a lazy chuckle. “I thought you didn’t give a damn when I exposed you. Or were you too busy playing the villain in a suit to care?”Ezra clenched his jaw, as his fist clenched by his side trying to calm the anger already building up in him.“Speak if you want to speak, and if you don’t—get lost.” His tone was tight, words pushed through gritted teeth.Frank scoffed, walking forward more closer to Ezra this time.“You’re still playing hard when you’re about to be ruined?” His words dripped with taunt, his confidence unwavering.Ezra’s eyes darkened.“Do what suits you. I don’t care. Just don’t bring Olive into this. If you do, you’ll have yourself to blame.”He turne
“I think I know what to do,” Frank muttered under his breath, the tremble in his voice betraying the storm raging within him. His shoes echoed against the sleek hotel floor as he strode toward the hallway, each step fueled by desperation and unresolved regret.He didn’t get far.“Excuse me, sir,” a firm voice cut through the air, halting him mid-stride. Two security men stood in his path, their stance unwavering, their eyes alert.Frank blinked, startled. “What’s this?”“Passage card, sir,” one of the guards demanded.Frank’s hand instinctively darted to his pocket, looking for a card—though he clearly knew he had none.“Hmm… I don’t have any,” he said, trying to maintain composure. “But I think we can talk, man to man.”“No. We don’t do that here,” the guard replied sternly.“Gosh,” Frank muttered. “Why are the people here so strong-headed? First it was the receptionist, now it’s the guards.”He knew there were empty rooms, but the receptionist had refused to give him one.“Okay, how