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
The car was quiet, save for the low hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of paper as I handed over the pills. I glanced at the man beside me—tall, stoic, and expressionless as always. My private investigator. I hadn’t contacted him in years, but if there was anyone I trusted with this, it was him. “These,” I said simply, placing the small bag of pills in his gloved hand. “I need you to find out what they are and why he’s taking them.” He nodded once, his movements precise and mechanical, before slipping the bag into his coat pocket. Not a single word, not a single unnecessary gesture. That was what I liked about him—obedience without question. “And don’t let anyone trace this back to me. I want answers, but I don’t want complications.” Another nod. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror for a moment before returning to me. “Good,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “You’ll report back to me in person. No emails, no calls. You know the drill.” As the car pu
I glared at him sharply, pulling my dress back into place, my movements deliberate and precise. Before I could say anything, I heard him mutter a crisp curse under his breath. "You kissed me..." he said, his voice low, almost incredulous. I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms. "So?" His jaw clenched as he pointed at me. "You kissed me with tongue, Eloise! What the hell was that?" I smirked, tilting my head. "Oh, relax. It was just a little experiment. I was proving a point—you're drunk." "I'm not drunk!" he barked, running a hand through his hair. "You—you can’t just do that!" "Why not?" I challenged, my tone calm but defiant. His eyes widened, his expression a mix of disbelief and frustration, as if I’d just cursed him to his core. "Why not?! You don’t know the hell I went through this whole day, Eloise—" "So what?" I snapped, cutting him off. "Does kissing you make it worse? Does it add to your so-called hell, Elijah?" He stared at me, his lips pressed into a t
ELIJAH I couldn’t move. I stood there, frozen, exactly where Eloise had left me. The rain poured down, soaking me to the bone, but I didn’t care. It was as if the heavens were trying to comfort me—or mock me—I couldn’t tell anymore. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. The cold didn’t bother me, but the ache in my chest did. Her words replayed in my head over and over again, stabbing me deeper every time. "You can never afford me in this lifetime, billionaire." I let out a bitter laugh, my voice cracking. “Afford you? Hell, I’ve already lost everything trying to have you.” The rain kept coming, but I didn’t move. I didn’t even try to shield myself. What was the point? For the first time in years, I felt completely empty. Eloise didn’t just leave me; she took every ounce of hope I had left.Confessing to her wasn’t part of my plan tonight—hell, it was never in my plans at all. I swore I’d take this secret to my grave. But the frustration, the anger, and the overwhelming
ELOISE I woke up to the loud, relentless banging on my door. The noise echoed through the room, and all I could do was groan in frustration. I pulled the pillow over my ears, hoping to drown it out, but it was no use. Edmund's booming, angry voice cut through like a knife. "Eloise! Open this door right now!" I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could just disappear. "Not today, old man," I muttered under my breath, pulling the pillow tighter over my head as if it could shield me from his booming voice. From outside, I heard one of the maids speak up, her voice soft but firm. "Sir, Ms. Eloise is still unwell. Perhaps it would be best to let her rest for now." My father’s response came sharp and impatient. "Unwell? She’s just making excuses! Tell her I won’t tolerate this laziness anymore! She needs to work for my company!" Their voices began to blur, fading into muffled echoes as I pressed the pillow harder against my ears. But it wasn’t enough to drown out the pounding in my
The walls were white. Too white. Too clean. Too quiet.I sat on the hospital bed, my hands resting on my lap, fingers unmoving. My eyes stared ahead, but I wasn't really seeing anything. Everything felt distant. Muted. Like the world decided to move on without me.I could hear Elijah’s voice somewhere near the door, low and serious. He was speaking to a doctor, their words blurring together until I finally caught one thing clearly—“They’re both okay.”They were talking about me and the baby.I’m okay.The baby is okay.But why didn’t it feel like it?My chest felt hollow. Heavy. Like something had been scooped out of me and all that was left was the echo of his voice.Matthew…He died in my arms.I keep replaying it—his last words, his final breath, the way his eyes dimmed as if the light just flickered out of his soul. And I just kept crying, screaming his name, begging a God I wasn’t even sure I believed in anymore.I didn’t get to say sorry.I didn’t get to tell him that I truly lo
We arrived at the edge of the abandoned building, the air thick with tension and dust. The place was rotting, every window shattered, every wall covered in graffiti. But it was quiet—too quiet. The men we brought with us started to spread out, silently taking their positions, blending into the shadows. I felt the weight of every second pressing down on me. My jaw clenched. My fists itched. My heart pounded with one thing in mind—Eloise.I glanced at Matthew, who gave me a nod. Even now, even with everything he was carrying, he was calm. Focused. We didn’t exchange words. We didn’t need to. We were here for one thing. And nothing was going to stop us.We didn’t go in right away.The building loomed ahead like a sleeping beast, silent and dangerous. But I knew better. It wasn’t sleeping. It was waiting.Matthew came up beside me, crouched low behind the broken wall we were using for cover. "Two on the left," he murmured. "Three more near the back, guarding the exits."I nodded once.
While waiting for Matthew, I sat on the couch. Eliana climbed beside me, wrapping her arms around mine like she always did. I kissed the top of her head.Eloah stood by the window, stiff and silent.“El…” I called softly.He didn’t look at me.“I know you’re mad. I messed up. I’m sorry.”Still nothing. I stood and walked to him. “I never stopped thinking about you. Or your sister. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I hurt you instead. I’ll make it right.”Eloah finally looked at me. “You leave, Mommy… alone…”His voice cracked, and it felt like someone punched me straight in the chest.“I know,” I said quietly. “And I hate myself for that every day.”He blinked fast, trying to hold back whatever he was feeling. “I cry… every night.”I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay still. “I’m sorry, El. I didn’t mean to hurt your Mommy. Or you.”He looked down, fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t leave again.”“I won’t,” I said instantly. “Not ever again.”There was a beat of silence
In a second, I’m already clutching his collar. We both look each other in the eyes, and I can see… that we do indeed have the same eyes.The same. Even the kind of anger we’re both trying to hold back.Rafael and Venice gasp behind me—they can feel the tension, thick in the air. But I don’t care. My heart’s beating like a war drum in my chest, and it’s not just anger. It’s confusion. Betrayal. Pain.“She’s pregnant,” he finally says, almost like a whisper.Venice lets out a sharp breath behind me. Rafael stays silent.“What did you just say?” I ask, my voice shaking.“She’s pregnant, Elijah,” he repeats, louder this time. “Eloise is carrying your child.”It feels like something exploded inside me. I don’t even know if it’s anger, happiness, or fear. Maybe all of them.“Don’t mess with me,” I say, shoving him back slightly, though I don’t let go. “If she’s pregnant, why didn’t she tell me?! Why the hell are you the one telling me and not her?!”“Because she didn’t plan to,” he answers.
“What do you mean Uncle Sandro died?!” I snapped, my voice louder than I intended.I was gripping my phone so tight my knuckles turned white.Rafael's voice on the other end was shaky. “Elijah… Noel found him. He got in the way while trying to protect Farah. He didn’t make it.”I froze. The words didn’t register at first. My chest rose and fell as the air seemed to thicken around me.“No,” I muttered. “No, that can’t be.”“I’m sorry,” Rafael said, his voice barely above a whisper. “He died a hero.”I ran a hand down my face, feeling the sting in my eyes. I turned away, making sure Eloah and Eliana couldn’t see me fall apart."What about Farah?" I asked, my voice low and tight. "Where is she now? Is she safe?"Rafael sighed on the other line. "She’s safe, Elijah. She's in Spain… with Matthew and Eloise. Matthew picked her up the moment he found out Uncle Sandro was gone."My jaw clenched. Spain. With them.Of course he’d go to her. Of course she’d be there too.I closed my eyes and lea
“Elijah, what is this?!” Uncle Sandro’s voice boomed behind me, his cane tapping loudly against the pavement as he approached the car. “You’re seriously taking the kids? At this hour?”I didn’t stop packing Eliana’s small pink backpack into the backseat. Then came Eloah’s toy dinosaur. I refused to look at him. If I did, I’d lose it.“Elijah!” he shouted again, this time grabbing my arm tightly. “Listen to me, son. Don’t do this—don’t take them away like this.”I clenched my jaw. “I’m not taking them away. I’m protecting them.”“From what? Eloise?! From their own mother?” His eyes were wide with disbelief. “You’re angry—I understand that. But don’t use the kids. Don’t pretend they’re not hurting too!”Finally, I met his eyes—mine glassy, but cold. “She made her choice, Uncle. She chose Matthew. Again. Do you know how many times I’ve endured that? How many times I caught her when she let go? I waited. I stayed. I kept hoping.” I let out a bitter laugh. “And still, it wasn’t enough.”Un
My vision was blurry, my head pounding with every step they dragged me through the hallway. The coldness of the cement wall, the smell of metal and rot—it all screamed prison. But the only thing that mattered to me right now… was the tiny life inside me.I curled into myself the moment they threw me into a small, dimly lit room and slammed the metal door shut behind them. The silence was deafening. My arms shook as I held my stomach, whispering through gritted teeth."You’re okay… please be okay."Tears slid down my cheeks as I leaned my head against the cold wall, swallowing the pain. The baby… my baby. I couldn’t let anything happen. Not again. Not like with everything else I failed to protect.Noel thinks I’m weak. He thinks bruises and fear will make me bend. But he doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know what a mother becomes when you threaten her child.He will know soon.I jolted awake at the sudden sound of the door creaking. My body tensed, thinking it was one of Noel’s men again. B
I can endure anything. Anything in this world. But the thought of my child suffering and getting hurt will be the end of me. The end of my sanity.Let them take my name. Let them strip me of my pride, of the company, of everything I’ve built, of everything she built. Let them break my body, tie my hands, chain my freedom—but not my children. Not Eliana’s soft laugh. Not Eloah’s gentle eyes. They are the last pure thing I have. The last reminder that something good still exists inside of me.If Noel touches even a strand of their hair, I swear—he won't just face a grieving mother. He'll face a monster he created with his own hands. One he's not ready for.Because if I have to burn this whole world just to keep them safe… I will.Noel’s smirk only grew wider, clearly enjoying the control he had over me.“Ah, there it is,” he said, his voice mockingly soft. “I hit a nerve, didn’t I? You see, Eloise, this is the kind of leverage I have over you. Your love for your children, your weakness
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