Elijah looked at me like I’d lost my mind. His mouth opened, then closed, like he couldn’t believe what I just said. "You need what?!" he asked, his voice loud and sharp. I crossed my arms, meeting his shocked gaze. "Sperm. Your sperm," I said again, not even blinking. He rubbed his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Eloise, are you out of your mind?" "No, I’m not." I raised my chin, my tone steady. "He wants an heir. I’ll give him one—but I need your help. Simple as that." He laughed, but it wasn’t the usual amused kind—it was the kind that made my skin prickle. "Simple? Simple?! Are you hearing yourself, Eloise?! You can’t just walk up to me and casually ask for my sperm like you’re borrowing sugar from a neighbor!" "Why not?" I said, crossing my arms, unfazed by his outburst. "Why not?!" His voice pitched higher, his hands flailing as if trying to grab an invisible explanation. "Because it’s crazy, Eloise! It’s absolutely insane! You don’t just do things like this!
"Elijah, I need your sperm.” She just needs your sperm, Elijah! Your sperm! It doesn’t mean you two will have sex! You’ll just be her sperm donor!“Fuck… Oh… Goddamnit, Eloise!”I tightly shut my eyes, the image of her serious face as she said those words replaying in my mind.“Elijah, I need your sperm.”I was utterly exhausted, gasping for air and drenched in sweat. I can't fucking sleep! No matter what I do, I can't erase the way she said those words from my mind! Her alluring face is just too much to handle! My strength is draining, and even my hands feel tired. It’s like I’m burning up with fever from this unbearable heat! This isn’t the first time I’ve fantasized about my sister-in-law, but it’s definitely the first time I’ve touched myself nonstop from midnight till dawn!“Ahhh…. Fuck, Eloise! Fuck! Fuck! Damn it!” I'm not even sure if she's serious about what she's asking for! But the thought that I’m the first person she thought of... that’s what’s making me so damn hard!
I sat on the stairs, the cold cement biting against my legs, a cigarette lazily dangling between my fingers. The smoke curled upward, vanishing into the evening air as I stared into nothingness. "An STD? Really?" I muttered to myself, smirking at Elijah’s pathetic attempt to scare me off Rafael. The confidence in his voice was almost convincing, but I wasn’t stupid. Elijah might be good at running a business, but lying? He sucked at it. I exhaled a cloud of smoke, letting the nicotine calm the storm of thoughts in my head. Rafael wasn’t exactly perfect, but the question nagged me now: who would be? Who could fit the messy, temporary role of baby daddy without ruining my life in the process? Elijah’s words echoed in my mind, louder than I wanted them to. "Pick someone with a sense of responsibility... someone you can trust." I scoffed, flicking the ash off my cigarette. "Easier said than done, genius." Trust wasn’t exactly my strong suit, and responsibility? Most men ran from that
I leaned back in my chair, staring blankly at the ceiling, replaying the words I had thrown at Eloise earlier. Rafael has an STD? Damn, I really said that, didn’t I? The lie had just slipped out so effortlessly, and I couldn’t even blame the heat of the moment. It was pure, unfiltered panic. I groaned, running a hand over my face. Rafael was going to kill me if this ever got back to him. Not that I cared much—I’d do it again if it meant keeping Eloise away from him. Before I could spiral any further into my thoughts, the door to my office burst open with a loud bang, nearly making me fall out of my chair. "Elijah, my man!" Rafael’s voice boomed as he strode into the room, grinning like he had just won the lottery. Oh, great. Speak of the devil. "Why are you smiling like that?" I asked, sitting up straight and trying to mask my unease. He plopped down on the chair across from me, completely at ease, like he owned the place. "Why wouldn’t I be? Life’s good, brother. Life’s r
It’s nice if someone is worried about you, but when they start acting like the world is ending just because you inhaled a little smoke? Ugh, it’s too much. I opened my eyes to the blinding hospital lights and immediately groaned. The air felt sterile, cold, and heavy with the scent of antiseptics. My throat was dry, and my body ached, but none of that compared to the irritation bubbling inside me. Elijah was pacing near the bed, his face a mix of relief and frustration. He looked like he’d aged ten years in the past hour. “Elijah,” I croaked, trying to sit up. “Stop pacing. You’re making me dizzy.” “You should stay lying down!” he snapped, rushing to my side like I was made of glass. His hands hovered over me like he wasn’t sure where to touch. “Do you even realize what could’ve happened to you?!” “Yes, I inhaled some smoke and fainted. Big deal,” I muttered, waving him off. “I’m not dying.” His jaw tightened, and I could tell he was holding back a lecture. “Eloise, you we
I could feel my throat burn as I downed the entire glass of vodka, the sting doing little to ease the frustration simmering inside me. The bass-heavy music pounded through the club, matching the erratic rhythm of my thoughts. Across the table, Rafael lounged comfortably, a smug grin on his face as two women clung to his arms, giggling at whatever nonsense he was whispering in their ears. “Rough night, Eli?” Rafael called out over the music, smirking like the asshole he was. “You’re drinking like you just lost the lottery.” I ignored him, signaling the bartender for another drink. My mind was elsewhere—on a certain stubborn woman who always managed to push me to the edge and leave me hanging there. Eloise. My grip on the glass tightened as I remembered my conversation with Edmund earlier. I stared at Eloise's face. She might have an angelic face, but when she wakes up, she’s colder than Elsa from Frozen (thanks to Venice’s little sister for introducing me to that movie). Her
Uncle Sandro gently dabbed the side of my lip with a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic, his brows furrowed in concentration. I winced at the sting but didn’t pull away."You're always so stubborn," he muttered, his voice tinged with both frustration and concern. "Why do you always let things escalate to this point?"I rolled my eyes, ignoring the question. "It’s not like I asked for this, Uncle. Besides, it’s just a bruise.”His hand froze mid-air, and he gave me a look that could rival a storm. "Just a bruise? Eloise, this isn’t normal. Edmund crossed the line, and you’re acting like it’s just another Tuesday!” I just shrugged in response. Then I saw the pity in his eyes. "Fine. Fine. Fine. We’re not doing this if you’re just going to pity me," I said irritably, snatching the cotton ball from his hands. He wouldn’t have even known about this if we hadn’t bumped into each other on the stairs earlier!Uncle Sandro’s expression turned serious, his usual warmth replaced by somethi
I leaned back in my chair, the papers trembling slightly in my hand as I read the report. A raid on an illegal gambling operation—and my mother’s name tangled in it. Of course. Another day, another scandal tied to the Dawson name. I tossed the folder onto my desk, rubbing my temples. She never learns. Her business might be legitimate on the surface, but it’s always what lurks beneath that drags everything into chaos. And now, it’s my problem to clean up. Again. My jaw clenched as I flipped through the detailed accounts from the private investigator. Names, locations, bribes—it was all there. Everything the authorities would need to bury her, if they weren’t already in her pocket. "How does she always manage to pull me into her mess?" I muttered under my breath. I leaned forward, running a hand down my face. This wasn’t just about her reputation; it was about mine. If this blows up, the fallout won’t just hit her—it’ll hit me, my business, and everyone under the Dawson umbrella
I was seated on a cold chair, my hands tightly bound behind my back. I didn’t feel fear—or maybe I’d just gotten used to it. In front of me, Noel was pacing back and forth like he was putting a plan together in his head. He was holding a folder, and with every step closer, I could hear the slight crack of his clenched knuckles.“You know,” he began, staring at me, “I’ve waited years for this.”I didn’t respond. I just looked straight at him, right into his eyes. I didn’t blink. I didn’t flinch.He opened the folder. Photos. Documents. Papers I couldn’t quite make out. “All of this, Eloise,” he said as he spread them out on the table between us, “is proof of how weak you are as the heiress of your mother’s company.”I smiled bitterly. “That’s funny. Because while you were collecting those, I was figuring out how to bring you down without even having to touch a single gun.”He paused. Then grinned. “So you’re brave now?”“I’m not brave, Noel,” I answered, my voice hoarse but firm. “I’m
The next morning, I waited until Matthew left—he said something about a meeting, but I didn’t even register the details. I just nodded, watching him walk out the door like nothing was wrong, like I didn’t hear the truth bleeding from his lips last night.As soon as the door closed, I made my way to the kitchen where Maren was pretending to fix the sink. Her back was to me, but I knew she felt my presence.“I heard everything,” I said coldly.She froze, her hand tightening around the towel she was holding. “Heard what?”I stepped closer, my heart pounding. “Last night. You. Him. His sickness. One year. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”Maren slowly turned to face me, her expression unreadable. “I don’t know what you think you heard, Eloise, but—”“Stop it,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. “Don’t lie to me.”She opened her mouth like she was going to deny it again, but something in my eyes must’ve stopped her. Instead, she just looked away, lips pressed
"Congratulations, Mrs. Dawson. You are two weeks pregnant."I blinked, frozen in place on the couch as those words sank in. My eyes shifted from the doctor to Farah, whose mouth was slightly open in shock, then to Matthew—who was standing stiff across the room, silent.A bittersweet ache spread in my chest. I should be happy, right? New life. A child. But nothing felt right. Not the place, not the timing. Not even the father.Farah slowly reached for my hand, squeezing it. “El…”The doctor packed up her things and gave a polite smile before excusing herself, leaving the three of us in heavy silence.I couldn't even look at Matthew.This wasn’t how I imagined finding out. Not here. Not like this.I laughed sarcastically, the sound dry and bitter. “Great. Pregnancy in this kind of situation.”Farah didn’t say anything. She just stared at me, worry etched deep into her face.Matthew took a slow step forward but didn’t speak.I looked at them both, then placed a hand on my stomach.“Of al
Tears streamed down my face as Farah told me everything—every horrible detail.Noel killed Uncle Sandro. Just because he refused to sign that damn petition. Just because he stood for what was right.Farah was lucky to escape, all thanks to Matthew… and now here we are, clinging to each other like broken pieces trying to fit back together.I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, my voice shaky. “What about them, Farah? My kids… Elijah? Do you know anything?”Her face fell, and my heart dropped all over again."Days after you left, Elijah... also left the country, El,” Farah said, her voice low. “He brought the kids with him. Uncle Sandro and I tried to connect with him, but… we couldn’t anymore. He disappeared.”I froze.“What do you mean disappeared?” My voice was sharp, panicked.Farah shook her head, wiping her tears. “We don’t know where he went. He cut everyone off.”Farah lowered her gaze. “Maybe… maybe he just got tired, El. Of the push and pull, the hiding, the danger—everyt
In one blink of my eye, I saw Matthew clutching his arm, blood seeping through his fingers. He gritted his teeth, but he kept moving, dragging me with him behind a broken wall for cover.“Elijah…” I whispered, almost like a prayer, my eyes desperately searching the scene. My heart refused to believe it wasn’t him.Matthew snapped his head toward me, his face twisted in pain and fury. “It’s not Elijah!”But I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. “It is him,” I said through shaky breaths. “I know it’s him. I can feel it—he came back for me, Matthew!”His jaw clenched, breath heaving. “I'm telling you, Eloise! This is not Elijah!” His jaw clenched, breath heaving. “I'm telling you, Eloise! This is not Elijah!”I snapped.I shoved him back with all the strength I had left, my hands trembling, my vision blurred with tears. “It *is* Elijah! I know it! Why can’t you just admit it?!”Matthew looked stunned, caught off guard.“Why can’t you just give me up to him, Matthew?!” I screamed, voice cracking.
Every night, my children and Elijah haunted me. I can't sleep well thinking about them.I can't sleep thinking about how Eloah’s asthma is. Does he still keep his inhaler beside him like I taught him? Is someone checking on him when the air gets too cold?I can't sleep thinking if Eliana can sleep without me by her side. She used to curl up beside me, her tiny fingers always reaching for mine in the dark.I can't sleep thinking if Elijah… is finding me. If he's trying. If he’s losing sleep too. If he's blaming himself.I feel like I’m going insane here, and all I want now is to go home. As hard as it is to admit, I don’t think I’ll succeed with my plan. There are too many guards outside—armed, built like tanks... I know they won’t hurt me because I’m sure Matthew told them not to. But I’m also certain he instructed them to keep an eye on me every minute, every hour. Damn it.Maren was gently brushing my hair, her touch light and careful. She offered to do it earlier, saying it would h
The cold air of Denmark greeted me the moment I stepped out of the car. The house in front of me wasn’t anything extravagant—it was small, modern, and tucked away in a quiet, remote area. But what caught my eye wasn’t the house.It was the men.They were everywhere. Standing guard, pacing silently, some eyeing me with suspicion. I held onto the strap of my bag tightly and followed Matthew inside. Every step felt heavier than the last.The house looked normal, cozy even. But I knew better—this wasn’t home. This was a cage dressed in warmth.Matthew placed his hand on my shoulder, gently but firmly, like he was trying to remind me of something—of who he was to me before.“Angel,” he said, using the old call sign he used back then. I flinched, but said nothing.“This will be our safe haven,” he added, gesturing around the place.He walked me through the house, showing me each room—the kitchen, the living area, a small library, and a guest room that looked more like a surveillance space t
I've thought about this one. Clearly. Logically. Heartly...And it still hurts.What kind of wife and mother am I? I keep telling myself that I can handle everything—that I'm doing this for them, for their sake, because I love them. But who am I really fooling? This isn’t what love is. Love doesn’t leave quietly in the middle of the night without them knowing. I closed my eyes, gripping the suitcase tighter. I hated myself for doing this—for even thinking this was the right thing. I closed my eyes, gripping the suitcase tighter. I hated myself for doing this—for even thinking this was the right thing.Then my phone rang.I froze, heart pounding as I looked down at the screen.Matthew.I stared at his name for a moment, my thumb hovering. But I couldn’t answer—not now. Not when everything felt this fragile. Not when I wasn’t even sure who I was anymore.So I let it ring.And when it stopped, I slipped the phone back into my pocket and stepped out into the night.Just as I opened the
I stood on the terrace, phone in hand, staring out at the quiet view outside. Rafael was calling. I answered immediately."Any updates?" I asked, straight to the point."I don't know how to describe it. Elisse is still grieving. Matthew—your brother—he's moving fast," Rafael said cautiously."What now?" I asked, already sensing where this was going."He's hired a lawyer. One of those quiet but deadly types. He’s pushing to revisit the inheritance division—yours, Veronica’s, and his."I let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "Let him. I don’t care about the inheritance.""I know," Rafael replied. "But he’s spinning it like you’ve disappeared, like you walked away from everything. He wants full control.""Then let him think that." My voice was calm, firm. "I didn’t walk away from everything. Just from the parts that never mattered to me."There was silence for a moment on his end."Alright," he finally said. "Just thought you should know.""Thanks," I murmured, glancing back