(Winona)I pull my coat tighter around me as I step into the clinic. The receptionist greets me with a polite nod. Her European accent is soft and welcoming.I manage a small smile, keeping my face calm even though my heart feels like it’s going to break out of my chest.Trying to be calm is pretty impossible right now.Everything about this appointment feels monumental. Not just the ultrasound, but what it means. Jayden will be here. Secretly. I need him to be here, but I don’t know what it means as far as our marriage goes.There’s an emotional gap that will remain until we get past what happened after he attacked Lance. We’ve pinned it for now. More Barnaby advice.The receptionist directs me down a hallway, and I follow her to the waiting room. The clinic is quiet, secluded—perfect for what we need.I sit down, clutching my bag. Jayden isn’t here yet, but I know he’ll find a way. That’s who he is lately. A man who delivers. Even when I’ve shattered his trust. Even when he may no
(Jayden)Winona is staring at me like a deer in the headlights.“Do we want to know the gender? Do you?” I ask her gently.“I… I’m not sure. It makes this baby even more real than the heartbeat. If anything happens…”I take her hand now wanting to help her emotional turmoil. I can’t imagine how hard growing a baby inside you is if you then lose that baby. But I don’t want her to regret anything if that does happen.“The baby is real.”“I know that.”“This is your choice. I’ll support you. Under the circumstances, maybe knowing, naming and connecting with the baby is something you’d be thankful for, if the worst happens.”She stares at me and I can see the wheels turning in her head. “So, celebrate the baby now and focus on the positive…?”“If we lose the baby are you going to feel better or worse if you never made that connection? Maybe you don’t even have to decide right now.”“Oh, the ultrasound isn’t needed for the gender. That is already stated in the prenatal blood testing when y
(Jayden)“Jayden,” she greets warmly as I approach the table. “You look well.” “Thanks, Mother,” I reply with a smile, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “You look as perfect as ever. Still setting the standard.” She beams at the compliment, her eyes studying me closely. “Flattery, Jayden? You must want something.” I laugh lightly as I take my seat. “Do I need a reason to compliment you? You’re my mother. It’s been too long.” Her expression softens slightly, but I can tell her mind is working overtime. Judy doesn’t take things at face value. The waiter appears, pouring wine for us both.“I took the liberty of ordering ahead. Like old times. This wine I discovered on my travels here. It’s excellent.”I lift the glass, swirling it absently. “To new beginnings,” I say, raising it toward her. Judy’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, and she clinks her glass against mine. “To new beginnings.” “You’re settling into London nicely, I hope?” she asks, taking a delicate sip of wine. “It’s be
(Cass)The lobby of Nexus Global is even more intimidating than I expected. It’s all glass, steel, and people who look like they belong on the cover of a magazine—or maybe the board of a billion-dollar corporation.My black boots click against the polished marble floors as I stride to the front desk, my confidence an armor against the stares I’ve already started to attract. Like no one’s seen tatts and piercings in Brussels before.The receptionist barely glances at me. She’s a perfect match for the surroundings—sleek hair, immaculate makeup, and a suit that probably costs more than my rent back home.“May I help you?” she asks, her tone sharp and dismissive.“I’m here to see Jayden Brennan,” I say, keeping my voice steady.“Do you have an appointment?” Her fingers hover over the keyboard, but she doesn’t make a move to type anything.“No, but I’m family,” I reply.She gives me a once-over, taking in my tattoos, piercings, and black-on-black outfit. Her lips tighten. “I’m sorry, but M
(Winona)I’ve spent the last hour booking flights, organizing the kids’ documents, and triple-checking every detail. The tickets are locked in—direct to the States, first class, in three days.I figure we just get it done instead of stopping and starting. After Jayden’s texts last night, the sooner the better. His concern over Judy’s obsession with getting Abby and Henry off me, aren’t misplaced. Judy has always wanted Abby to herself and Jayden.No doubt that extends to Henry, being Jayden’s blood. She and Ashlyn tried to make me look unfit to be a mother. Almost happened too. For a while Abby lived with her. I cannot let that happen again.In the states I have the no-contact order in place. Here, is a different story. If I was in doubt about traveling before, I’m not now. Dr. Klein has said sooner rather than later for the baby and Dr. Green has echoed that in an email.Anyway, the flights are booked and I’ll have top medics with me.The doorbell rings, pulling me from my thoughts.
(Winona)Once the initial shock of Cass’s arrival wears off, we settle in the living room with mugs of tea. It feels surreal to have her here after worrying, wondering where she was and what she was going through. But now that she’s sitting across from me, her usual confidence muted, I know there’s more to this visit than just a surprise reunion. I study her quietly as she stirs her tea, the spoon clinking against the ceramic mug. She’s always been a mix of chaos and charm, but today, there’s a somber edge. And she’s so thin, like she hasn’t eaten properly in months.“Cass,” I say softly, breaking the silence. “What’s going on? Why are you here now?” Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and for a moment, I see the battle raging inside her. “I needed to see you,” she says simply, setting the spoon down and wrapping her hands around the mug. “I’m glad you’re here. But what about your job back home? There’s more to this, isn’t there?” She sighs, leaning back against the couch. “You alway
(Cass)Henry’s little giggles fill the room as I kneel on the floor, arms wide open. “Come here, you big guy!” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but damn, my throat feels tight seeing how much he’s grown.He crawls over, with his big grin. He remembers me, and that makes me feel good. I know it’s only been a few months but he’s only an infant.I scoop him up, hugging him close as his baby scent fills my nose. It’s like a mix of milk and sunshine, and it nearly wrecks me.“Look at you, Henry,” I whisper. “You’re so big now.”He grabs my hair with his tiny hands, giggling. His face is brighter than I remember, more expressive. It’s like I’ve missed a lifetime in just a few months.Winona leans back, crossing her arms. “So, what’s your plan now that you’re here?”I shrug, leaning against the couch. “Find work. Maybe I’ll need a car when I get work. I have this.” I pull out the envelope Thierry gave me and place it on the table.“What’s that?” Winona asks, picking it up but not openi
(Winona)Chef Valois closes his office door with a deliberate click, gesturing for us to sit in the sleek chairs facing his massive desk. Cass sits down, clutching the letter like it might disappear. I take a seat beside her. “Let me explain why this is extraordinary,” Valois begins, leaning forward. “Henrik LaSalle doesn’t recommend people. Period. Not even his sous chefs. For him to write this...” He points to the letter. “...means you’ve done something remarkable.” Cass raises an eyebrow. “All I did was critique his soup.” Valois lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Critique his soup? Not possible.” Cass shrugs. “The waitress wouldn’t tell him, so I went in the kitchen and did it myself. Then he made me work my ass off. But he made the changes to every soup he sent after that. That’s all.” Valois stares at her like she’s just declared she wrestled a bear and won.“Henrik LaSalle is notoriously impossible to please. Do you know how many chefs have tried to earn his approv
(Winona)The second I step into the farmhouse, the noise hits me like a freight train. Henry is wailing from his highchair, Abbey and Sarah are locked in a heated argument at the craft table, and Bobby’s lying facedown on the couch muttering something about the injustice of salad for dinner. River stands near the sink with a unicorn sticker stuck to her shirt. Kit is pacing across the living room barefoot, holding a toy walkie-talkie and trying to negotiate peace terms between the girls. Yeah. Long day for everyone. “Mama!” Henry’s sobbing slows the moment he spots me, his arms shooting up. He grabs at the air with his hands. “Mama.”“Hey, buddy.” I drop my bag and scoop him up, pressing his sweaty little face into my neck. His hiccuping sobs slow instantly, his tiny hands clutching my collar. I bounce him gently, scanning the chaos. “So... I see today went smoothly.” Kit drops into an armchair with a groan. “Oh yeah. Textbook. We had routine but that was a major fail.” River t
(Jayden)There’s no hesitation in the way the staff greet me. A few nods, murmured “Bonjour, Monsieur Brennan,” or “Goedemorgen,” the Belgian Dutch mixing in seamlessly. With Winona’s help, I’ve got the basics of three languages down.It’s a far cry from the first time I walked in here when half the team still thought I was some overprivileged American with no business running Gus’s empire. They hated me and all thought I would fail.Now? They respect me.I make my way to the executive floor, where Matteo is already waiting by the elevators, arms crossed. I know I’ll cop some fun and games from him. But also know he operates the finance department like a steel vice.“Mon frère! Look who finally remembered where his office is,” he announces in dramatic Italian flair.“Miss me that much?” I smirk, stepping inside the elevator. “Pfft, please,” Matteo scoffs, pressing the button for the top floor. “You flatter yourself. I was enjoying the silence.”The doors close, and Matteo leans agai
(Winona)“It’s more than just budgeting. More than saving. Vault is the bridge between financial literacy and financial success.” Phillip has everyone mesmerized by the sheer magnitude of his presentation.His confidence and maturity are magnetic. I’m impressed. The last time I was in the same room as him, I had to deal with his innuendos, his smug little smirks, and that irritating way he acted like a schoolboy caught kissing behind the gym.But this? This is different.He commands the room without effort, every movement deliberate. Even the way he flips through slides is calculated. Not a single wasted word or motion.He has my attention.“Think about it—what’s the biggest issue people have with money? Not rich people, normal everyday people.”“Understanding how to make it work for them?” Darien tentatively suggests.“Exactly!” Phillip grins and fist-bumps Darien. “Understanding how to make it work for them. Schools don’t teach it, banks don’t prioritize it, and the internet is full
(Winona)“…and that’s why we’re proposing a total overhaul,” Darien is saying. His voice is confident, but his idea is garbage.I hate it. None of this new branding speaks to innovation or trust—it looks like stuff college interns throw together after one too many energy drinks. I open my mouth to tell him to sit down, but before I can, the meeting room door swings open. And every muscle in my body locks up. Phillip. For a second, I think I’m hallucinating—like my subconscious decided to really mess with me today.But no, he’s real. Tall, perfectly put together, that same effortless confidence that made him such a force in my business. And in my life. The man I was engaged to. The man I built a business with. The man I spent one reckless night with before everything went to hell. But even more than that, Phillip was my trusted friend. My best friend when I had to flee from Judy and Ashlyn before I had Abby. He knows he almost as intimately as Jayden does. He also betrayed me in
(Winona)Jayden’s gone. I remind myself of that as I walk through the towering glass doors of the office building. He’s only in Brussels. Not gone-gone. I have things to do. I’m handling everything. I exhale. I do have this.So why does it feel like the entire world is off balance? Kit and River are back at the house, settling into their first official day. The kids were so stoked they practically pushed me out the door. Anne’s in the city at her apartment for the week.The kids are fine. Jayden’s fine. Everything is under control.Except me. Everywhere I look, there are babies.Babies in strollers, babies strapped to parents' chests, babies gurgling in cafés.My heart surges to grab them up, smell their baby smell. Feel their soft new hair. Hold them close and never let them go again. I push the thoughts away. It’s not only weird but it’s unhinged to think like that about other people’s babies.One locks eyes with me now from the elevator next to mine, chubby hands gripping his p
(Mia)The key doesn’t turn. I frown, twisting it harder, but the lock won’t budge. I jiggle it, my pulse kicking up. What the hell? I step back, staring at the door of Cass’s old apartment like it’s personally betrayed me. She left here months ago, so there’s no reason she should’ve changed the locks. I know she’s back in Brussels now and as far as I can see she never came near the place while she was back.Unless she somehow knows I’ve been using it. Maybe Gus found out and tipped her off. A chill creeps down my spine, but I shove it down. It’s coincidence.This is probably just a landlord thing. A random maintenance update. But still. I know how this looks. I know how it will look to grandfather and I’m meeting him here before he leaves this city.Behind me, footsteps echo through the dimly lit hallway. Slow. Measured. Unhurried.I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.“Problem, mija?”Don Alejandro’s voice slides over me like oil—smooth, but suffocating.I inhale slowl
(Cass)By the time the last dish is stacked, my arms feel like they’re made of lead. My back aches, my hands sting from endless scrubbing, and I swear I’ll smell like onion peels and garlic skins for the next month. It’s nearly two a.m. But I’m still standing. Barely. The Brussels estate kitchen is a monster. The lunch service alone had my head spinning—three different menus running at once, dignitaries arriving early, last-minute changes because some VIP decided they’re suddenly vegan but still want the flavor of foie gras. Fine dining is bullshit. And I love it. I grab a clean cloth and wipe the sink and counters dry, catching my blurry reflection in the shiny steel of the dishwasher. Flushed cheeks, hair barely contained in my headscarf, exhaustion written all over my face. The executive chef—aka Satan in a toque—barks at the nightshift team, sending them scrambling into action while I keep my head down. I learned that trick fast.Do the grunt work, keep your mouth shut, don
(Lisa)Staring at my bedroom ceiling won’t change anything. But I don’t know what else to do.Arms crossed over my stomach, pressing down like I can stop this from happening. Like I can physically hold it all in—this pregnancy, this entire fucking disaster.This isn’t happening. It can’t happen.But it is.The numbers keep running through my head. Twelve weeks. Three months. That’s a whole damn trimester. This is real, and there’s no taking it back.How the hell can this be happening?I squeeze my eyes shut, jaw clenched. I know exactly how. The last night with Lance. The one where he let himself feel what we had. The one where I thought—stupidly, so fucking stupidly—that we might actually get it right.That night we weren’t as careful as we could’ve been. But I have contraception, I thought it would be fine.Now he’s gone, and I’m stuck holding the last piece of him.The phone buzzes on my nightstand. Winona.I hesitate, then grab it.“How’d your day go? You okay?”“Fine. Just tired.
(Lisa)I stare at my phone, half-considering throwing it out the window.Logan Bennett.The text sits there, taunting me. Of course he’d have my number on record. But I still wasn’t expecting him to flick me a text anytime soon.Can I stop by? We need to talk.I want to say no. But it has to be dealt with. I know I have to make a decision.I’m free tomorrow.No reply after a few minutes. Whatever. I’m easy either way, buddy.I sigh, slumping back on my couch. Thanks for reminding me just before bedtime that my entire life is a tangled mess of secrets, unanswered questions, and morning sickness.I think about the USB. Still untouched in the back of my cupboard. Still part of shit I don’t want to deal with. I don’t need to deal with whatever is on there. It won’t change one thing I’m dealing with now.It can stay in the cupboard.A sharp knock at the door pulls me out of my spiral. I drag myself up and swing it open.And there he is.Same damn face. Same damn eyes.But different.“Oh… y