I smirked. I needed to compose myself. There was no room for fucking drama right now, Elijah. We needed to focus. We needed to prioritize Eloise. Even with the gun pointed at me, I took a deep breath and let my smirk widen. "Go ahead, Eloise," I taunted. "Shoot me." Her grip on the gun was steady. Her expression was cold—unwavering. "You think I won’t?" she asked, voice sharp as a blade. "I know you can," I said, stepping forward. "But will you?" She didn't move. Didn't even blink. "You're standing beside the man who destroyed your life—”"But also," she continued, her voice unwavering, "the man in front of me pointing his gun is the brother of the woman who killed my brother and husband!"She was talking about Veronica.My fingers tightened around my gun, but I didn't move."And don't forget, dear, the reason why he distanced himself away from you it's because he choose Veronica than you—" “Shut the fuck up you old man!” I couldn't help it anymore. I feel like I lose
For years, I carried the weight of unanswered questions. Why did he leave me? Why did he let Matthew take his place? Why did he make me feel like I was never enough to fight for? I never got the answers—not from him, not from anyone. Just assumptions, just pain. The airport buzzed around us—people rushing, announcements echoing, luggage wheels rolling against the floor—but it all faded into the background.We sat on the cold metal bench, side by side, facing the massive glass wall that overlooked the runway. Planes took off and landed, coming and going, just like everything in my life."Elijah," I whispered, steady but firm. "No more lies. No more excuses. Just tell me… why?”The orange light from the sun reflected on his face, casting soft shadows over his sharp features. He looked tired—drained—but there was something else in his eyes. Something raw.He smiled… I stared at him, waiting—needing—to hear more. Elijah leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his finger
It has always been me. Those words hit me harder than any bullet ever could. I stared at her, my mind refusing to process what she just said. After everything—after years of regret, after watching her slip through my fingers, after forcing myself to accept that I had lost her—she was telling me this now. I clenched my jaw, my hands curling into fists. “Eloise…” My voice was hoarse, like I had been drowning for years and was finally gasping for air. She loved him. She admitted it. But all this time, it was me. I was the one she gave away when I walked away first. I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. “Then why…” I swallowed, trying to steady myself. “Why did you never tell me?” Why did you let me believe I had already lost you?She smirked before lowering her head. "I was scared… but then again, what is life without a little fear?" I watched her, my chest tightening. Fear? Was that what kept her from telling me? From reaching out? "Eloise..." My v
ELOISEWithin three months, a lot of things happened.I can't say our situation is really okay now, but at least it was far from before. The weight on my chest wasn’t as heavy, the nightmares weren’t as constant, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe again. Victoria was sent to a mental hospital.It was inevitable. After everything she had done, after the chaos she left behind, there was no other place for her to go. The last time I saw her, she was sitting in a quiet corner of the facility, staring blankly at the wall. Her once sharp, calculating eyes now seemed distant—empty.A part of me wanted to hate her, to curse her for every wound she inflicted on me, on Elijah, on Noel. But standing there, watching her so lost in her own mind, I felt… nothing. No anger. No satisfaction. Just an eerie sense of finality.Edmund, on the other hand, was in prison.Justice was swift, and there was no escaping what he had done. The trial had been exhausting, dragging o
I was laughing at another ridiculous scene from Friends when Elijah suddenly placed a glass of milk on the vanity table beside me.I glanced at him, raising a brow. “What’s this for?”He shrugged, sitting down next to me. “For you. You need it.”I rolled my eyes but took a sip anyway. “You act like I don’t drink enough milk.”“You don’t,” he said flatly, making me laugh.Elijah leaned back, watching the TV with mild interest before turning to me. “You’ve seen this show a million times. It’s, what? Twenty years old?”“More than twenty,” I corrected with a grin.He shook his head. “So why do you still love it?”I sighed, hugging a pillow. “Because it’s comforting. It’s funny, lighthearted… and no matter how many times I watch it, it still makes me happy.”Elijah hummed, considering my words. “So it’s like your comfort food, but in TV form?”“Exactly.”He smirked. “So if Friends is your comfort show, what does that make me?”“The father of my child.”Elijah went completely silent, and I
The moment her lips left mine, I smirked. “I didn’t know you already suck at kissing.” Eloise shot me a glare, still slightly breathless. “Excuse me?” I leaned in again, my lips barely brushing her ear as I whispered, “You pulled away first.” She scoffed and crossed her arms. “Because I need energy. Unlike you, I’m carrying a whole human inside me.” I chuckled, reaching for her waist, but she stepped back and grabbed her coffee like I wasn’t just kissing her senseless a few seconds ago. Damn, this woman. “You’re really just gonna act like that didn’t happen?” I teased, watching as she took a slow sip from her mug. Eloise raised a brow. “Act like what didn’t happen?” I narrowed my eyes on her. “Unbelievable.” She shrugged, turning away as if she wasn’t affected, but I didn’t miss the way her fingers slightly trembled against the mug. She was so full of it. I smirked, stepping closer behind her. “You can deny it all you want, Eloise…” I leaned in, my voice low. “But
I never really thought about what it would be like to give birth. I mean, it’s just one push, right? The baby comes out just like that—simple, like… pooping.Well, I was fucking wrong. This was nothing like pooping. The pain was unbearable—like my body was being ripped apart from the inside. I was sweating, panting, gripping the hospital bed so hard my knuckles turned white. I wanted to scream, curse, throw something—anything to make this stop. "You're doing great, Eloise!" one of the nurses said, her voice way too cheerful for my liking. "Great?!" I snapped, glaring at her. "If this is great, I don't want to know what bad feels like!" Farah was beside me, holding my hand, her face pale but determined. "El, you can do this." "I can't!" I groaned as another wave of pain hit me. "Just knock me out! Get this baby out of me already!" And where the hell was Elijah?! "He's on his way," Farah assured me, reading my mind. He better be, because if I was suffering through this
I hummed a lullaby softly as my son slept peacefully in my arms. His tiny chest rose and fell with each breath, his little fingers twitching every now and then. It was… surreal. This little human—so small, so fragile—was mine. Ours. Eloise was watching us from the hospital bed, her eyes filled with something unreadable. Love, maybe. Or maybe disbelief, just like me. I glanced at her. “We still haven’t really decided on a name.” She bit her lip, thinking. “I’ve been thinking about something…” I raised a brow, waiting. She took a deep breath. “Eloah.” Eloah. I looked down at my son, testing the name in my mind. It felt… right. “Eloah Hart-Dawson,” I murmured. Eloise nodded. “It means 'God is my light.'” I swallowed, my arms tightening slightly around my son. Eloah. My light. Our light. I looked at Eloise again, and this time, I didn’t hold back my smile. “It’s perfect.”As I drove us home from the hospital, I kept glancing at the rearview mirror, watching E
I sat across from Matthew in the private room of the restaurant, my fingers curled around the warm cup of tea the waiter had just placed in front of me. The man sitting across from me—my first husband—felt like a stranger. His aura was different now. Darker. He wasn’t the Matthew I used to know—the one who made me laugh, the one who always had a teasing smirk on his face. This Matthew was cold, unreadable. But still, I remained patient. I owed him that much. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against the table. “You’re different,” he muttered, eyes scanning my face. “You’re calmer than I expected.” I offered him a small, tight-lipped smile. “I didn’t come here to fight, Matthew.” He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Then why did you come?” "To talk to you—”“About what?” Matthew cut me off, leaning forward with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “About how happy you are with him? About how you moved on so easily while I spent years in hell?” I exhaled s
I grew up with Matthew. Deep inside, I always had a feeling about his true identity, but I pushed it away. Because no matter what, he was still my brother.Maybe I was too focused on Eloise back then that I failed to notice even the slightest thing between Matthew and Noel.When Matthew came out of the closet to Dad, he was furious—disappointed. I couldn't even name all the emotions he showed that day. But one thing was clear: from that moment on, Dad's treatment of Matthew started to change.He put more effort into me, teaching me how to handle business, how to be the perfect heir—the son he could proudly present to the world. But with Matthew… it was different. Dad distanced himself, his disappointment manifesting in subtle ways at first—longer business trips, missed birthdays, colder stares.Matthew was always the type to seek approval, to crave validation—especially from our father. So when Dad started pulling away, treating him like a mere afterthought, Matthew did what he though
I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my jaw locked as I trailed behind Eloise’s car. She was chasing after Matthew, and like a damn fool, I was chasing after her. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. The roads blurred past me, headlights flashing in the dark as we weaved through the streets. I kept my distance, watching as Eloise’s car sped up, refusing to lose sight of Matthew’s vehicle ahead. Where the hell was he going? Then, I recognized the familiar road leading to Uncle Sandro’s house. Damn it. Matthew’s car skidded to a stop in the driveway, and before his engine even fully died, he was out, slamming the door shut. Eloise parked next, practically throwing her car door open. I pulled up right after, stepping out and slamming my own door shut as my eyes locked onto them. “Matthew!” Eloise called, her voice cracking with urgency as she hurried after him. He didn’t stop. He pushed the door open and stepped inside Uncle Sandro’s house, his movements stiff
Without wasting another second, I scrolled through my contacts and called Rafael. “Eloise?” He answered almost immediately. “I need to see you,” I said, my voice firm. “Now.” There was a brief pause on the other end before he sighed. “Come to my office.” I didn’t even bother responding. I turned on my heel and headed straight for my car, my mind running a hundred miles per hour. I walked into the towering building bearing Rafael’s family name, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor. His family didn’t just run a security firm—it was the most trusted in Asia, handling the biggest names in business and politics. Ignoring the glances thrown my way, I headed straight for the top floor. The receptionist barely had time to greet me before I pushed the door open and stepped inside.Rafael was at his desk, flipping through some documents, but the moment he saw me, he leaned back, arms crossing over his chest. “That was fast,” he said, his usual smirk missing. “You sound
The moment I stepped inside Uncle Sandro’s house, I felt the weight of everything crash down on me. My chest was tight, my hands were still shaking, and my head wouldn’t stop replaying what I had just seen. Elijah. That woman. The baby bump. I swallowed hard and set my bag down by the door, forcing myself to take deep breaths. Farah peeked from the living room, her brows furrowing the second she saw my face. “El?” “I don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered, walking past her. She didn’t push. She never did. I made my way to the guest room, closing the door behind me before I finally let the tears fall. I pressed a hand against my mouth, muffling the sobs as my knees gave out. I should have been used to this by now—the disappointment, the heartbreak, the constant cycle of expecting too much. But damn it, it still hurts.What the fuck? I want to give him the benefit of the doubt—I really do. But the look on his face says something. Like it says everything. Guilt. Hes
“Elijah.” I didn’t look up. I kept my gaze fixed on the papers in front of me, my fingers tapping restlessly against the desk. Rafael sighed. “Are you seriously okay with this?” Silence. “You’re just going to let Eloise go like that?” he pressed, his voice laced with frustration. I flipped a page, ignoring the tightness in my chest. “Did you get the report I asked for?” Rafael exhaled sharply, clearly annoyed at my deflection, but he didn’t push. Instead, he placed a thick folder on my desk. “Yeah. I did.” Finally, I looked up. My jaw tightened as I reached for the folder, my grip firm. “Good,” I muttered. “Let’s get this over with.”Because after all of this, I will make sure to get my family back and live the life we had before this messed-up situation happened.I leaned back against my chair, rubbing my temples as I scanned the report Rafael handed me. Every detail lined up with what Ellise had told me.“She’s telling the truth,” I muttered, tossing the papers onto
I cursed under my breath the moment I saw the look on Eloise’s face. She was furious. Hurt. And I knew exactly what she was thinking. “It’s not what you think,” I said quickly, stepping toward her. But she backed away like I was a disease. Her eyes burned with betrayal, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Not what I think?” she spat, voice trembling. “Are you seriously going to say that while she’s right there—while she’s literally pregnant, Elijah?” I exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Eloise, just listen—” “Oh, I am listening. And you know what I hear? Lies. Bullshit. The same excuses cheaters always make.” Cheater. The word hit me like a slap. My jaw tightened. “Don’t do this. Don’t twist it into something it’s not.” She let out a bitter laugh, crossing her arms. “Oh? Then why don’t you tell me what the hell it is, Elijah? Because from where I’m standing, it looks pretty damn clear.” I glanced at the woman beside me, who shifted unco
A dull throbbing pulsed through my skull as I slowly blinked my eyes open. The hospital room's fluorescent lights were dimmed, but even then, the brightness made me wince. I shifted slightly, my body feeling sluggish and heavy. Then I saw him. Matthew. Sitting by my bedside in his wheelchair, watching me with quiet concern. I swallowed the lump in my throat, disappointment creeping into my chest before I could stop it. I didn’t even know why. Maybe I had expected—hoped—to see someone else when I woke up. Like Elijah. But it was Matthew. And as much as I knew I should be relieved to see him safe but all I felt was exhaustion. “You’re awake,” he said softly, a small, almost relieved smile on his lips. I nodded weakly. “Yeah.” His eyes scanned my face, his brows drawing together in worry. “How are you feeling?” I hesitated, debating whether to tell him the truth. That I felt like my world was crumbling. That I was stretched so thin I could barely breathe. But instea
I paced back and forth in the hospital hallway, my heart hammering in my chest. My hands wouldn't stop shaking, my mind replaying the sound of Eloise’s body hitting the floor over and over again.Damn it.One second, she was running after me, desperate to explain herself. The next, she was falling—crashing down like everything between us.I clenched my fists. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.I just wanted her to choose us. To choose me.I ran a frustrated hand down my face, forcing myself to stay calm. The doctor had yet to come out, and the waiting was eating me alive. My stomach twisted painfully as the image of her limp body flashed in my mind again. I should’ve caught her. I should’ve—The door finally opened, and the doctor stepped out. I straightened immediately, my pulse quickening."Doctor," I breathed out, my voice tight. "How is she? Is she okay?"The doctor gave me a reassuring nod. "She’s stable. She hit her head, but it’s just a minor injury. No signs of a conc