(Lydia)I stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, watching the city below pulse with life. From here, everything seemed so distant, as if the chaos outside couldn’t touch us. But I knew better. We were at the eye of the storm, hiding away while George tried to manage the media frenzy that had erupted around Nathan. Every passing hour felt like we were teetering on a knife’s edge, waiting for something to tip it all one way or the other.My phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with more notifications. I hadn’t looked in hours, knowing it was just more noise from social media, more opinions from people who didn’t know the half of it. Some of the headlines flashed across my mind and felt like they were from some twisted alternate reality. "Nathan Is the Real Victim Here!" or "A Powerful Man Brought Down by Lies?"But there were just as many posts in support of the victims. Stories, real stories, of women who had been too scared to speak up before now. One after
(Lydia)The hotel room felt too quiet, even though Thomas was just in the washroom, taking a well-deserved shower. I looked at my phone, noticing that I had missed a text from Margaret earlier this afternoon. She had been taking care of the kids while we were in D.C. handling this nightmare with Nathan. I opened the message, feeling a twinge of guilt as I read her words: The kids miss you both terribly. Mabel keeps asking when you're coming back. Miles has been quiet, too. Just thought you'd want to know.A deep ache settled in my chest. Mabel and Miles. I imagined their little faces, Mabel’s inquisitive eyes and Miles’ soft smile, both of them wondering when their parents would come home. It wasn’t the first time we had left them, but this felt different because Ruby wasn’t with them either and from what I know from Thomas, Mama had not been feeling that well either. There had been so much uncertainty swirling around us since the Nathan ordeal started, and I hated that they had to f
(Thomas)The flight home felt like it couldn’t move fast enough. Lydia and I sat side by side, not saying much, but our minds were in the same place. Back in Denver, with Mabel and Miles. I’d seen the look on her face after that call with the kids, the one that said it all. We couldn’t stay in D.C. any longer. There was nothing here that mattered more than getting back to them.I squeezed Lydia’s hand as we descended, watching the lights of Denver flicker into view beneath us. She turned to me, a tired but determined look in her eyes. We were both exhausted mentally and physically but there was this shared relief between us, knowing we’d be home soon.The moment we touched down and the seatbelt sign dinged off, we were on our feet. I grabbed our bags, and Lydia was already moving, her body full of urgency. We didn’t say much on the drive back, just exchanged a few words about how glad we were to be home. I could tell Lydia was anxious to see the kids, and honestly, so was I.When we p
(Thomas)Sitting in George’s office, I couldn’t shake the urgency pressing down on me like a weight. Lydia sat beside me, her posture tense but composed, while George leaned back in his chair, the USB drive resting between us on the table. That tiny piece of plastic and metal had the power to change everything, or to blow up in our faces.“Are you sure we’re ready for this?” George asked, his tone careful, but he already knew where I stood. He’d seen it on my face the moment we stepped into his office.“Yes,” I said firmly, meeting his gaze. “We’ve held back long enough. The longer we wait, the more dangerous this becomes.”Lydia shifted beside me, and I could feel her glance at me from the corner of her eye. I knew what she was thinking, and I didn’t blame her. But something in me needed to act. Every day that passed with Nathan out there, felt like a countdown. We couldn’t just sit back and hope for the best.George let out a low sigh, picking up the USB and turning it over in his f
(Lydia)It had been a couple of days since Thomas and I returned to the mansion. I wandered through the quiet rooms, my mind elsewhere, thinking of all the things that needed to be done.The kids were at preschool, and Thomas had gone into the office early, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The weight of everything sat heavy on my shoulders, a quiet pressure I couldn’t shake.I pulled out my phone and tried calling Ruby. She’d been on my mind ever since we got back, and though I knew she was avoiding the mansion, I wanted to check in with her. But as the phone rang and rang, I already knew she wouldn’t pick up. It went to voicemail.I sighed, typing a quick message instead: Hey, Ruby. I hope you’re okay. Let’s catch up soon. I miss you.To think we used to live under the same roof and now I have to text her like this.Within a minute, her response came back. Hey, Lyds. Sorry I missed your call. Been really busy looking for an apartment with Adam. I’ll call you soon, okay?I stared a
(Lydia)The sound of the front door clicking shut signaled Thomas’s return from the office. I was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner, trying to busy my mind with something tangible. Since we’d come back to the mansion, I’d been living in a strange sort of haze. I’d disconnected from social media, blocked out the news, and even avoided conversations that veered too close to what had happened in D.C. The only thing grounding me now was the routine: the kids, Mama, keeping the house running.“Hey,” Thomas called from the hallway, his voice low, likely not to wake the kids. He walked into the kitchen, his tie already loosened, the usual fatigue lining his face.“Hey,” I replied, giving him a tired smile, “How was your day?”He came over to kiss me on the forehead before glancing at the chopping board. “Long,” he admitted. “But nothing I couldn’t handle.” He glanced at the half-prepped ingredients, “Let me help.”I knew I could easily call on the cook that lived in the servant
(Thomas)It was late, well past midnight, and the house was quiet except for the occasional creak of the old wooden floors beneath our feet. Lydia and I were sitting at the kitchen table, the soft glow of the lamp above us casting long shadows across the room. The kids had been asleep for hours, and we’d spent the evening turning over our options, trying to make sense of the mess we were in.Nathan was a looming storm, and the legal chess game he was playing was far more calculated than we had anticipated. But we couldn’t let him control the narrative. We couldn’t let him paint himself as the victim while the real victims were dragged through the mud.“We need to be strategic about this,” I said, leaning back in my chair and rubbing my temples. My head was pounding from the sheer amount of information we’d been processing, “We can’t just react to what he’s doing. We need to build our own case.”Lydia nodded, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea, though it had long gone cold. “We can
(Lydia)It was Friday, and I was looking forward to having some extra time with Mabel and Miles after their short day at pre-school. I had been busy making sure our plan was running smoothly but I had to focus on the kids as well.I had prepared their favorite lunch, grilled cheese sandwiches with carrot sticks and a little bowl of apple slices and set everything on the kitchen table. Usually, they would come running in, full of stories about what happened at school. Mabel would eagerly tell me about the latest craft project, while Miles would share a funny thing one of his friends had done.But today was different. They were quieter than usual, their faces serious as they slid into their chairs, barely glancing up at me. They didn’t even giggle when I cut the sandwiches into little stars, a trick that always used to make them laugh.“Everything okay?” I asked, trying to sound casual as I watched them pick at their food.Mabel just shrugged, taking a bite of her sandwich without much
(Adeline)The front garden was always my favorite place to sit, especially in the morning. The air carried a crisp freshness, and the soft rustle of leaves felt like nature’s whisper of reassurance. Today, I felt lighter, less weighed down by the fog of fatigue that had wrapped around me since the surgery. A week had passed, and though I knew there was still a long road ahead, scans, radiotherapy, and who knew what else, I was grateful for small mercies like this. Lydia sat beside me, her posture relaxed but her eyes distant. She should have been glowing after her date with Thomas last night; I’d seen her excitement all day leading up to it. Yet, there was something off about her today, a subtle undercurrent of worry she couldn’t quite hide. I reached over and patted her hand, drawing her out of her thoughts, “You seem troubled, my dear. What’s on your mind?” She blinked, then gave me a soft smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Nothing to worry about, Mama. Just…think
(Margaret)The mansion was quiet, its grand halls and rooms bathed in moonlight, but I was still awake, as I often was these days. Sleep came sparingly. I’d taken to wandering the mansion late at night, a habit born of restlessness and regret. Tonight, I found myself seated in the parlor, nursing a lukewarm cup of tea, when I heard the faint creak of the front door. Ruby. Her steps were light but purposeful, and as she crossed into the hallway, I caught a glimpse of her face. She looked lost in thought, her brow furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. There was something about her expression that tugged at me, a pang I couldn’t quite place but that settled uncomfortably in my chest. “Ruby,” I called gently, my voice cutting through the stillness. She froze for a moment, her back to me, before turning slightly, her posture tense. Her eyes met mine briefly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them, before she resumed her stride, heading toward the staircase.
(Jack)The room was bathed in the muted glow of the television, the credits of the movie rolling silently on the screen. Ruby lay beside me, her head resting lightly against my shoulder, her breathing slow and even as she slept. I didn’t dare move. Instead, I let my gaze linger on her, taking in the soft lines of her face, the way her lashes rested against her cheeks, the slight rise and fall of her chest. Her hair framed her face, catching the dim light in a way that made her look almost ethereal. I shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t let myself get caught up in the illusion. But in that moment, it felt impossible not to. For years, this apartment had been a space I’d tried to keep void of emotion, a place where I could compartmentalize my life, separate work from personal chaos. But Ruby had changed that. When she’d been here, this place had felt alive, warm. And now, with her asleep beside me, it felt like a dream I didn’t want to wake up from.My mind wandered back to the few
(Ruby)I stood outside Jack’s apartment door, my hand hesitating over the knocker. I shouldn’t be here. I’d already done more than enough, stitched him up, watching him avoid my questions like he always did. But despite every logical reason to stay away, I was here. Because this wasn’t just anyone, it was Jack. The Jack who had once made me laugh so hard I cried, who had shared countless quiet evenings with me in this very apartment. The Jack who, despite all the hurt and chaos, still managed to make my heart skip a beat when I thought of him. I pressed my lips together, pushing the memories aside. This wasn’t about rekindling anything; it was about making sure he was okay. He had shown up at my door injured and vulnerable, and no matter how much time had passed or how complicated things had gotten, I couldn’t ignore that. Taking a deep breath, I knocked. When Jack opened the door, his surprise was clear, though he quickly masked it with that practiced cool demeanor of his.
(Jack)I sat on the edge of my couch, staring at the bandage on my side, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. The family doctor had left about an hour ago after re-dressing my wound. He was efficient and professional, as always, and I appreciated the care. But damn it, why hadn’t I thought to call him in the first place? The moment I got injured, my instincts hadn’t pointed me toward practicality or logic. No, instead, I’d ended up at Ruby’s apartment, bloodied and in desperate need of stitches. I didn’t even remember the exact route I’d taken to get there, just that I had. Like my brain had been hardwired to seek her out, even when it made no sense. It embarrassed me now. Ruby had been nothing but calm and steady as she stitched me up, but I could tell how unsettled she was underneath that brave exterior. And I’d put her in that position, dragged her into something she had no business being
(Lydia)The drive back to the mansion felt electric, charged with an energy I couldn’t quite put into words. Thomas’s hand rested on my thigh as he navigated the quiet streets, his fingers brushing gently against my skin. Neither of us said much; the connection between us was palpable without needing words. By the time we reached the house and stepped through the door, it was as if the air around us crackled with anticipation. Ruby had left a note on the counter saying the kids were asleep and she’d see us tomorrow. I smiled, grateful for her support, but my focus was entirely on Thomas. As soon as the door to our bedroom clicked shut behind us, it was like a dam broke. His lips were on mine in an instant, hot and urgent, pulling me into him as if the space between us was unbearable. My hands found their way to his shoulders, then his hair, as I pressed closer, feeling the hard lines of his body against mine. “Lydia,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. I didn’t
(Lydia)When I woke up in the morning, I felt completely refreshed. Today was special. Thomas and I had a date planned, just the two of us. It had been far too long since we’d had an evening to ourselves, and the thought of spending uninterrupted time with him filled me with excitement. Thomas was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed as he adjusted his tie. His usual morning routine was precise, and I admired how calm and collected he looked, even when I knew his day would be busy. “Good morning,” I murmured, leaning up on my elbows. He turned, smiling warmly, “Good morning, love. Sleep well?” I nodded, sliding closer to him, “You’re leaving early today.” “Lots to do before tonight,” he said with a wink. I couldn’t help but smile at the playful glint in his eyes. Recently, he had been waking up looking like he didn’t get much sleep the night before. But today, he looked like he rested well. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him passionately, savoring the
(Thomas)The drive back to the mansion was quiet, the city lights a blur as they passed by the windows. My mind replayed the events of the day, the chaos with that one candidate, the interviews that went nowhere, and then Jack. That wound, the tension in his voice, the possibility of Marco being involved, it all left a sour taste in my mouth. But I pushed it aside for now. I didn’t want to bring that storm home with me.By the time I pulled into the driveway, the mansion was bathed in soft light, welcoming and warm. I exhaled deeply, the weight of the day slowly lifting as I reminded myself of what mattered most, my family.Inside, the familiar sounds of home greeted me. Miles and Mabel’s laughter echoed from the living room, where they were playing with a set of blocks. Lydia sat nearby, her eyes flicking between them and her phone. When she looked up and saw me, her face brightened in a way that made the tension in my chest ease instantly.“Daddy!” Miles and Mabel shouted in unison
(Thomas)The hallways of the office were unusually quiet as I left the disaster of the last interview behind me. My steps echoed faintly as I made my way toward Jack’s office, needing a moment to vent about the absurdity of the day. Jack always had a way of grounding me, even when the world felt like it was spiraling out of control.But when I arrived at his office, it was empty. The blinds were drawn, the desk cleared except for a mug of cold coffee. I frowned, pulling out my phone to call him.He picked up after a few rings. His voice was low and somewhat strained when he spoke, “Thomas?”“Jack,” I said, glancing at my watch, “Where are you? I just came by your office.”“I’m at my apartment,” he replied, his tone clipped. “At your apartment?” I repeated, my frown deepening, “It’s the middle of the day, Jack. What’s going on?”There was a pause, long enough to make me suspicious. “I had to step out for a bit,” he finally said, “I’ll be back soon.”“Jack-”“Thomas, I’m fine,” he int