The sun streamed through the large windows of Richard’s mansion, casting an almost serene glow over the breakfast table—a stark contrast to the tension that weighed heavily in the air. Richard sat at the head of the table, his eyes fixed on his phone, seemingly oblivious to the thick cloud of discomfort that hung over his family. Across from him, Amelia sat stiffly, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The events of the previous night still haunted her, her father's harsh accusations ringing in her ears. Cynthia, seated beside Richard, was the only one who appeared completely at ease, her lips curled into a slight, smug smile as she calmly spread butter on her toast. Isabella quietly sipped her coffee, her eyes flicking between her daughter and Richard, unsure of how to break the silence. She could feel Amelia’s simmering anger and hurt from across the table, and her heart ached to fix it. But she knew it wasn’t that simple anymore. The clinking of silverware was the only sound
Ava’s heels clicked sharply against the stone path leading up to her father’s mansion, each step a surge of anger and determination building inside her. She had tried to stay away from this house, from her father’s betrayal, but she couldn’t ignore the call she’d gotten from Isabella and Amelia days before . The details of her father’s affair with Cynthia, the fact that the woman had moved into their home and was making life unbearable for her step mother and sister, had left Ava furious. As she reached the door, Ava took a deep breath and knocked loudly. She wasn’t sure what reception she’d get, but she was prepared for whatever would come. A few moments later, the door swung open, and Ava was met with the cold, assessing gaze of a woman she immediately recognized as Cynthia. She had an air of arrogance that seemed to ooze from her. Cynthia didn’t smile. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at Ava, scanning her from head to toe. “And who might you be?” she asked, her tone sharp
The early morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes of Richard’s study, casting muted shadows over the room. Isabella stood quietly by the door, her hand resting on the polished wood handle as she listened to the murmur of voices within. She had expected to find Richard alone, but instead, Cynthia’s unmistakably sweet, condescending tone drifted out, causing Isabella to pause. “Richard, darling, the villa in the south of France is perfect for a family vacation,” Cynthia purred, her voice dripping with self-satisfaction. “Just you, me, and... well, our son, of course. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? We need the respite you know, for our family. Jacob especially. The poor boy has been through a lot trying to fit into this prestigious family” Isabella’s heart clenched. Their son. A constant reminder of Richard's betrayal, of the family that had been forged behind her back. She pushed open the door and stepped into the room, her presence immediately altering the air. Richard and Cynt
The clock had long passed midnight, and the mansion was blanketed in silence. The dimly lit halls were still. Amelia lay in bed, restless, her mind buzzing with everything that had happened over the past few weeks. No matter how much she tossed and turned, sleep wouldn’t come. With a sigh, she threw off her blanket and decided to go downstairs for a glass of water, hoping it might calm her racing thoughts. As she padded barefoot down the stairs, the sound of hushed voices stopped her in her tracks. She paused on the landing, peering over the railing, and realized the voices were coming from the sitting room. One of them was unmistakably Cynthia’s, but the other was muffled—it was on the phone. Amelia’s curiosity got the best of her, and she moved closer, taking careful, quiet steps so as not to be noticed. Her breath hitched when she caught the tail end of Cynthia’s conversation. "We have to push her out, understand?" Cynthia’s voice was sharp, cold. "Isabella’s in the way. As lon
AVA I wasn’t feeling right all morning, but I brushed it off. Tamy and I had just gone for grocery shopping, and I could barely carry the bags myself towards the waiting car. My head was spinning that I thought I might collapse. Why was I feeling suddenly weak? Was it because of the stress in my family’s home? Was it affecting me mentally? It felt like my bones were so stiff and too heavy to lift me and the world around me kept spinning. I was close to the car door, when the first wave of dizziness hit. My head spun, and I felt a tightness in my chest. It was sudden—too sudden. I leaned against the car for support, struggling to catch my breath. "Ava? Are you okay? You’ve been unsteady, do you need water?” Tamy asked, her voice filled with concern as she came around to my side. "I... I don't feel good," I admitted, feeling like the world was tipping sideways. “I’m just feeling so lightheaded. I don’t know why” "We need to get you home," Tamy said firmly, helping me into th
John sat in his study, a glass of whiskey resting in his hand, when his phone buzzed. It was Dr. Reynolds. He answered, irritation flickering in his eyes. “What is it?” “John, I have some news about Ava,” Dr. Reynolds said, his voice serious. “What about her?” John asked, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone. “She’s pregnant,” the doctor confirmed. John felt the air rush out of his lungs. “Pregnant?” he repeated, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. “Are you sure?” “Yes, I just ran the tests. She’s definitely pregnant,” Dr. Reynolds reiterated. Shock morphed into fury within John. How could this happen? This was a wrench thrown into his plans, a threat to everything he had been orchestrating. But as the anger simmered, a sly thought crept in—perhaps he could still use this to his advantage. “Thank you for the information, Doctor. I’ll handle it from here,” John said, ending the call abruptly. John leaned back in his chair, his mind racing after receiving a call from D
AVA I couldn’t help but smile as I walked up the driveway, my heart light and full of excitement. The doctor’s words still echoed in my mind. Pregnant. I was carrying Liam’s child—our child. I couldn’t wait to tell him. My hand instinctively went to my stomach, and a soft laugh escaped my lips. This was the moment we had been waiting for, the next step in our lives together. As I opened the door to the house, I called out, “Liam?” I couldn’t wait to share the news with him. But when I stepped into the living room, I froze. There he was, standing in the middle of the room, a piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand, his face pale and his eyes filled with... hurt. “Ava,” his voice was cold, distant—nothing like the Liam I knew. I blinked, confused. “Liam, what’s wrong? I have something to tell you—” He cut me off, holding up the paper. “Did you sign this?” I stared at the paper, trying to make sense of it. Then it hit me—the contract. The contract. My heart sank, and I felt the
AVA I sat in the living room with Isabella and Amelia, feeling a strange weight in the air. It had been a few days since I came back to my father’s house after everything with Liam. The ache in my chest hadn’t dulled. I tried so hard to be strong but every now and then, I found myself slipping into my thoughts. How could I be strong, when everything else had fallen apart so quickly? Liam hadn’t contacted me, not for a single day. I was beyond heartbroken. I sat still, staring at the blank open space of the ceiling when the silence in the room was punctuated by the sound of the front door slamming open. I flinched, my eyes darting toward the entrance as a man I didn’t recognize barged in, his eyes blazing with fury. He looked disheveled, like he had been running or pacing for hours before deciding to storm in here. Cynthia walked into the living room at that moment, her face drained of all color the moment she saw him. She looked like she had seen a ghost. “Why would you barge i
Months later AVA The morning sun poured through the windows, bathing the room in a warm golden light. I stood in front of the mirror, my hands gently resting on my swollen belly, feeling the soft kicks of our baby. I could hardly believe this day had finally come—our wedding day. Again. I smiled to myself, watching my reflection as my fingers brushed over the lace of my gown. It was simple, elegant, and perfect for the small, intimate ceremony Liam and I had decided on. A fresh start. A new beginning for our family. There was a knock on the door, and Clara walked in, her face lighting up when she saw me. “Ava, you look beautiful,” she said, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. I turned to her, smiling. “Thank you, Clara. I’m glad you’re here.” She walked over, her expression a little more serious now. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. After everything… you and Liam deserve this happiness. You deserve a fresh start.” Her words meant more to me than she k
LIAM The silence in the hospital room was deafening. I sat beside Ava, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, my fingers trembling as I reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. She looked so fragile, so pale. I had never felt so helpless in my life. The day had dragged on endlessly, every hour a brutal reminder of how close I had come to losing her. The doctors had said she was stable, but she hadn’t woken up. I had tried talking to her, whispering reassurances that everything was going to be okay, but there was no response. Just the maddening, continuous hum of the machines monitoring her vitals. “Ava… please, wake up,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from hours of silence. “I need you. We need you.” The door to the room opened, and a nurse stepped in quietly, checking the monitors before giving me a small nod. “She’s doing well, Mr. Liam. It’s just a matter of time now.” Time. It felt like an eternity had already passed. I watched the nurse leave,
LIAM I held Ava tightly in his arms, feeling her tremble against me. Her breathing was shallow, and her skin, pale and cold. Despite everything, she had held on. We both had. As I brushed the dirt-streaked hair from her face, I whispered, “You’re safe now, Ava. It’s over.” Her lips parted as if she was trying to speak, but no words came out. Her fingers clutched weakly at my shirt, trying to ground herself. “I’m here,” I whispered, holding her as close as I could without hurting her. “I’ve got you.” She blinked up at me, her gaze unfocused before she glanced around, her eyes landing on Clara and Davies, who stood near the door, watching us with somber expressions. She looked back up at me, her brows knitting together. Her hand moved to her stomach, resting there for a moment before her eyes widened. “Liam…” “What is it?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat. Her grip on me tightened, and fear began to seep into her gaze. “I—Liam, something’s wrong.” Before I could even pro
LIAM The cold concrete floor felt like it was digging into my bones, and every breath I took was shallow and labored. My body ached, the weight of exhaustion and hunger gnawing at me with every passing minute. Ava sat beside me, her face pale, streaked with dirt, and her once-vibrant eyes dull with fear and fatigue. We had been here for what felt like an eternity, tied up, helpless, malnourished, and broken. I glanced over at her, my heart wrenching as she tried to keep herself together. Every now and then, she would give me a small, strained smile—something to reassure me, as if to say we were going to get out of this. But even her resolve was weakening. I could see it in the way her hands trembled, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts. The room reeked of sweat and desperation, the oppressive silence hanging over us like a death sentence. Then the door creaked open, and the sound of footsteps echoed through the warehouse. My pulse quickened as I turned to see John and El
Clara had been restless, unable to sleep, and decided to head downstairs for a glass of water. As she descended the staircase, her footfalls silent against the thick carpet, she heard voices coming from John’s study. At first, she thought nothing of it. It was not unlikely for him to make calls this late. John often stayed up late for business calls, but as she reached the bottom of the stairs, something in the tone of his voice made her pause. She ducked into the shadows, peeking around the corner, just in time to hear him say something that froze the blood in her veins. “Once they are dead, the property and the company will be ours. There won’t be anyone left to challenge us. We’ve endured far too much and we’ve played those meaningless games with those two pests! Now it’s time to get rid of them forever” Clara’s breath hitched in her throat, her hand trembling as she clutched the banister. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe. John’s voice was calm, almost bored, as th
AVA I woke up with a pounding headache, my limbs heavy and sore. My eyes fluttered open, the room around me coming into hazy focus—a cold, dimly lit space with concrete walls and the faint hum of distant machinery. As I shifted, I realized I couldn’t move my arms. Panic set in, and my breath quickened. My wrists were bound tightly behind me. A groan escaped my lips as I tugged at the restraints, but they wouldn’t budge. It was then that I noticed Liam, slumped beside me, his head hanging low. “Liam,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “Liam, wake up.” He stirred slightly, groaning before his eyes slowly blinked open. “Ava…?” His voice was rough, groggy. “What… where are we?” “We’re tied up,” I said, my voice trembling as I fought back the fear rising in my chest. “Liam, I don’t know what’s happening.” His eyes darted around the room, assessing the situation much quicker than I had. He tugged at his own restraints, his jaw tightening when he realized there was no immediate escape
LIAM I stood outside Ava’s house, nerves tearing through me. It had taken me far too long to realize how deeply I had hurt her. I had been a fool—letting my own uncle, John, manipulate me into casting her aside. My heart raced as I stared at the door, hoping, praying, she would listen. I lifted my hand to knock again, but the door suddenly opened. Isabella, her stepmother, stood before me. The hostility on her face was unmistakable, her lips curling into a sneer as she crossed her arms. “What are you doing here, Liam?” Her tone was icy. “I need to see Ava,” I said, my voice pleading. “I need to talk to her. Please.” She laughed bitterly, stepping forward, almost blocking the doorway. “Talk to her? After what you did? You have no right.” My heart clenched, but I refused to give up. “Isabella, I know I made mistakes. I just need five minutes—” “No,” she cut me off sharply. “You’re not coming in, Liam. She doesn’t need to hear more of your excuses.” I was about to respond when, s
Clara paced nervously in the hallway outside her brother’s room, debating whether to knock. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she rehearsed the conversation in her head. She knew Davies was loyal to their father, John, but after everything that had happened—after all the plotting and scheming—Clara couldn’t keep quiet any longer. She had seen the damage her father had caused, not just to Liam but to the entire family, and it was time to stop it. Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked on the door. A moment later, Davies opened it, surprise etched across his face. "Clara? What’s going on? It’s late," Davies said, stepping aside to let her in. Clara entered, her steps hesitant as she glanced around his room. "We need to talk. It’s important." Davies raised an eyebrow. "Talk about what? It better be good Clara. You know I don’t like when somebody interrupts my sleep” “Oh shut up. I came to talk about something important. Dad’s plan with Ava and Liam. Don’t yo
In the dimly lit study, the heavy scent of cigar smoke lingered in the air. John Tyson sat behind his large oak desk, fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished wood as his mind churned with plans and schemes. Across from him, Clara perched on the edge of a leather armchair, fidgeting with her hands, her gaze flicking nervously between the door and her brother. "I don’t like this," she muttered, breaking the tense silence. "We’ve done enough damage. Liam’s health has improved since Ava came into his life. Maybe it’s time to let things be." John’s gaze hardened as he turned to face her, his fingers pausing mid-tap. “You think I care about Liam’s well-being, Clara? This isn’t about him. It’s about our legacy, our fortune. Ava’s nothing more than a distraction, and I’ll be damned if I let her undo years of planning.” Clara sighed, leaning back in her chair, her shoulders sagging under the weight of their family’s endless plots. “We’ve been at this for too long, Dad. We’ve done