(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
(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
(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)“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
(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)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
(Lisa)The USB is shoved in the back of the cupboard. I don’t need to watch it to feel it. Lance’s voice, his thoughts, his truths—maybe. Or maybe it’s just his grin and some awkwardly stupid joke about death.You never know what you’ll get with Lance.I still haven’t answered Winona’s last text. I just can’t. She’s going to know something is up as soon as we meet in person. How can I do this to her?I can’t tell Winona. How could I? After what she’s lost? After that brutal, hollow look in her eyes when she told me about the hysterectomy?She said she was okay. That she’d accepted it.She was lying. I know it. And if I tell her I’m pregnant now? If I admit I’m carrying Lance’s baby and that I don’t want to be a mother?It would be a gut punch she doesn’t deserve.Tears sting my eyes. I swipe them away and force myself back to the files.Project Lighthouse—Pilot Program ResultsI curl up on the couch, surrounded by a fortress of papers and files, all scrawled with his handwriting. No
(Cass)The estate is always buzzing, a whirlwind of activity that makes my head spin. Between the kitchen, the constant flow of guests, and the never-ending lists of things to do, there’s always something in motion.But my only day off this fortnight is tomorrow and I can’t wait to get out of this kitchen. The tension in my neck that no amount of stretching is going to fix. The tension in my whole body that can only be fixed by one thing and my rechargeable collection ain’t gonna cut it.I need something real, something to blow off the steam that’s been building for weeks.I’m making my way out of the estate’s kitchen when I see Viktor lingering by the rose arbor archway, watching me. He knows I have to go through it to get to the cottage. I can’t help but feel a flash of irritation. If he insists on being my uninvited shadow, he can at least be useful and scratch my itch.He wants it too, but he’s all concerned about if it’s right and proper. I’m not interested in dancing around it a
(Lisa)The room is packed—board members, investors, benefactors. All eyes on me. Some skeptical, some expectant. Some probably wondering why the hell they bothered to be here. I grip the edges of the podium, forcing myself to stay steady. I tried to prepare a polished speech. But I couldn’t. So here I am, just winging it. I’m going to speak from my heart and hope that’s enough. I take a breath. Then another. I’m shaking inside but I’m going to do this. For the man I loved more than anything in this world. For Lance.“I know why you’re all here,” I start, my voice even but firm. “You want to know what happens now. What happens to the foundations Lance built. I know you’re all on the verge of taking away your support.”I feel the shift. But I don’t want to make them feel guilty. I want to restore their faith in their decisions to maintain their support.“You want to know if it’s worth keeping these charities that champion against suicide alive… after the man who started them took hi
(Cass)The estate is always buzzing, a whirlwind of activity that makes my head spin. Between the kitchen, the constant flow of guests, and the never-ending lists of things to do, there’s always something in motion.But my only day off this fortnight is tomorrow and I can’t wait to get out of this kitchen. The tension in my neck that no amount of stretching is going to fix. The tension in my whole body that can only be fixed by one thing and my rechargeable collection ain’t gonna cut it.I need something real, something to blow off the steam that’s been building for weeks.I’m making my way out of the estate’s kitchen when I see Viktor lingering by the rose arbor archway, watching me. He knows I have to go through it to get to the cottage. I can’t help but feel a flash of irritation. If he insists on being my uninvited shadow, he can at least be useful and scratch my itch.He wants it too, but he’s all concerned about if it’s right and proper. I’m not interested in dancing around it a
(Lisa)The USB is shoved in the back of the cupboard. I don’t need to watch it to feel it. Lance’s voice, his thoughts, his truths—maybe. Or maybe it’s just his grin and some awkwardly stupid joke about death.You never know what you’ll get with Lance.I still haven’t answered Winona’s last text. I just can’t. She’s going to know something is up as soon as we meet in person. How can I do this to her?I can’t tell Winona. How could I? After what she’s lost? After that brutal, hollow look in her eyes when she told me about the hysterectomy?She said she was okay. That she’d accepted it.She was lying. I know it. And if I tell her I’m pregnant now? If I admit I’m carrying Lance’s baby and that I don’t want to be a mother?It would be a gut punch she doesn’t deserve.Tears sting my eyes. I swipe them away and force myself back to the files.Project Lighthouse—Pilot Program ResultsI curl up on the couch, surrounded by a fortress of papers and files, all scrawled with his handwriting. No
(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