Gina's POVPatience was never my strong suit. I sat there, gripping my coffee cup so tightly that my knuckles turned white, my foot tapping against the marble floor in an uneven rhythm. I was waiting—counting the seconds—until my contact sent me the final piece of this puzzle. The truth. My instincts had never failed me before, and they weren’t failing me now. I knew that when that message arrived, it would confirm what I already suspected. Elena had orchestrated the entire kidnapping. She had played the victim, forced my hand, and taken my money. But what I wasn’t prepared for was just how deep her deception ran. Five minutes. That was all it took. My phone vibrated against the desk, the sharp buzz slicing through the heavy silence in the room. I snatched it up immediately, unlocking it with practiced speed. The message was short. But the words hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. “The account belongs to a woman named Catherine Jose. I'm sure you don't want to know
Gina's POVI crossed my legs, tapping my nails against the glass table between me and Lana. The soft clicks echoed through the dimly lit room, but my mind was too clouded with rage to focus on anything but Elena. She thought she could betray me and walk away unscathed? No. I would make sure she regretted ever crossing me. Lana leaned forward, her voice low and careful. “We need to be smart about this. If we rush, she’ll slip through our fingers.” “She won’t.” My voice was sharp, unwavering. “I’ll make sure of it.” I had spent months building my influence, ensuring no one dared challenge me. And yet, Elena—someone I had once considered useful—had turned against me. She thought she was clever, thought she could outmaneuver me. She was wrong. Lana smirked. “We could set a trap. Make her come to us instead of chasing her down.” I narrowed my eyes. “And how do you suggest we do that?” Before she could answer, the door creaked open. I immediately straightened as Alex walked in
Gina's POV I stormed into my office the next morning, my heels clicking sharply against the marble floors. The rage boiling inside me was barely contained, simmering just beneath the surface, ready to explode at the slightest provocation. Jenna, my secretary, barely had time to greet me before I cut her off. “I don’t want to be disturbed today,” I snapped, not bothering to look at her. “Yes, ma’am,” she replied softly, stepping aside as I marched to my desk. I threw my bag onto the polished surface, exhaling through my nose as I reached for my phone. My fingers dialed the number with precision, my nails tapping impatiently against the armrest of my chair as I waited. The moment the call connected, I didn’t give James a chance to speak. “Get in my office. Now.” I ended the call before he could respond. I didn’t need to hear whatever excuse he had lined up—I’d hear it when he stood in front of me, sweating under my glare. A few minutes later, a hesitant knock sounded on m
Julian's POVThe evening had been quiet, peaceful even. For once, there was no tension in the air, no lingering arguments or unspoken words left to cut through the silence. We sat around the dining table, the warm glow from the chandelier casting soft shadows across the room. Monica sat to my right, Lily to my left, the clinking of silverware against plates the only sound filling the space. I had almost allowed myself to enjoy the moment when the front door swung open without warning. The sudden intrusion made Lily and Monica pause mid-bite, both of them turning toward the entrance with questioning expressions. A woman stepped inside, her presence commanding yet elegant. She was dressed in a fitted navy blue dress, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves. A confident smirk played on her lips as she scanned the room before locking eyes with me. "Julian," she said smoothly, setting down her purse and walking toward me. It took me a second to process the
Elena's POVI knocked firmly on the door, stepping back slightly as I waited. The cold night air brushed against my skin, but I barely felt it. My heart was steady, my mind sharp. I had thought about this moment for weeks, planned it down to the last detail. Now, it was finally here. When the door swung open, Julian stood frozen. His eyes widened in shock, his breath hitching slightly as he took in the sight of me. He looked almost… transfixed, as if he couldn’t quite believe I was real. I let the moment stretch, let him drink in my presence, before tilting my head with a smirk. "Are you going to let me in," I said coolly, "or should I start making myself comfortable right here?" That snapped him out of his daze. He blinked, his jaw tightening. "Elena," he finally murmured, his voice laced with disbelief. "You’re supposed to be—" "Gone?" I finished for him, arching a brow. "Yeah, I figured you’d think that. But as you can see—" I stepped closer, my voice lowering, "I’m ver
Elena's POV I sat on the couch, staring directly into their terrified eyes, my fingers toying with my gun.“I know you you must be curious about who I am, but trust me, you don't want to know. I'm just a nobody who felt used.”Julian lifted his finger, “can I ask a question?”I shrugged, “feel free”“How do you know Gina?”“I was just a simple house girl in her home. When she needed someone who would work as a spy for her, I made myself available.” I said.Silence enveloped the room, all of them dealing with their own thoughts.“You know I'm not actually sorry about Lily's miscarriage. Gina only wanted to return the favor.” I smirked, noting the change in facial expressions and stirs. But of course, they can't voice out their aggressions, for fear of being shot.I wasn’t the type to beg, far from it, but here I was, sitting in Julian’s living room, facing three pairs of eyes that probably wished I were dead. The tension in the air was suffocating, thick enough to strangle me. Julia
Elena's POVI cleared my throat, “Good. As we all know, Your famous philanthropist, Regina Saxton was my…”“...That name sounds familiar.” Monica said, cutting in.“Of course, it's supposed to ring a bell. It's Gina.” “My Gina?” Julian asked immediately, his eyes widening.“Your Gina? Ha! You wish. She belongs to someone else now.” I sneered.“Regina is not a philanthropist. Not in this life, not in another. She doesn't have much things to live by anyway, not to talk of giving out.” Monica said in her usual mocking tone.I sat on the edge of the leather couch, legs crossed, eyes scanning the room as if daring them to challenge me. The atmosphere was thick with disbelief, the silence almost deafening. I had just dropped a bomb, and I was relishing the way it detonated. Monica was the first to react. Her perfectly arched brow lifted as she tilted her head. “Gina? A philanthropist?" She scoffed. "Are we talking about the same woman who grew up with Lily? That Gina?"I rolled my eyes,
Elena's POV For some reason, Julian remained quiet. I expected some hesitation, maybe even an argument, but Julian’s reaction still irritated me. The moment I laid out my plan—to expose Gina and use the truth of Lily’s miscarriage as leverage—Julian leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, brows furrowed in deep thought. His hesitation was written all over his face, and I knew exactly what he was about to say before the words even left his mouth. "I don’t know if we should go through with this," he muttered, shaking his head. "Saxton’s Empire… I need their funding." Silence stretched across the room. For a second, I thought I’d misheard him. "Excuse me?" I said, my tone sharper than I intended. Julian sighed, rubbing his temples. "Look, Elena, I get it. Gina is dangerous, manipulative, and she’s hurt us all. But Saxton’s Empire is one of the biggest financial players in the country. I’ve been trying to get in negotiations with them for months now, trying to secure
Five years later, the estate is no longer just a retreat. It’s a sanctuary—a living, breathing testament to the resilience of love, family, and legacy. As I stand by the grand oak tree in the heart of Seraphina’s Garden, I can hear the laughter of children echoing through the estate. My daughter is among them, her golden curls bouncing with every step as she runs around with her friends, her infectious giggle carrying on the breeze.Seraphina. The little girl who was born during a storm and who now, in the light of day, flourishes as a beacon of joy and hope. She’s everything I ever dreamed of and more. Every day, she reminds me of the strength I had when I thought I had none. And every day, she teaches me that the future is always worth fighting for.I watch as Alex kneels on the grass, helping her with the butterfly she’s carefully cupping in her hands, showing her how to let it go, how to trust the world outside. His love for her is something more than I ever imagined. A father’s l
Gina's POV There’s something sacred about peace—not just the absence of chaos, but the quiet fullness of a life hard-earned. I used to wonder if I would ever know such a feeling. Now, sitting in the sun-drenched solarium with my daughter giggling in my lap and Alex stretched beside us on the chaise, I know I’ve found it.I’ve found home.And it didn’t come wrapped in the perfect package or with a roadmap. It came in storms and secrets, in compromise and conflict, in tear-streaked nights and breathtaking mornings. It came in the arms of a man I never expected to love. And in the eyes of a child who showed me how to live without fear again.That’s why I decided to write it all down.My story.Our story.At first, it started as therapy. I needed a way to untangle the knots left behind by everything that had happened—the contract marriage, Victor’s threats, the courtroom battles, Evelyn’s truth, and the secrets buried deep within the Saxton legacy. But the more I wrote, the more I realiz
Gina's POV We named her Seraphina.The moment I held her in my arms, I knew there was no other name that could ever fit. She was born from fire and softness, from struggle and grace. And as she blinked up at me with those curious hazel eyes, so much like mine yet startlingly like Alex’s, I felt my heart permanently tether to hers.“Seraphina,” I whispered against her soft cheek, brushing a kiss there. “You’re going to change everything.”****Weeks passed in a blur of midnight feedings, lullabies hummed through tired lips, and soft coos that echoed down the estate’s halls. Alex and I were exhausted, but blissfully so. Our world had narrowed to a singular, perfect focus—her.The estate, once a symbol of looming uncertainty and painful inheritance, had become our sanctuary. But I didn’t want it to be just ours. My grandfather’s name had been dragged through courtrooms and sullied by lies. I wanted something different—a legacy rooted in healing, not conflict.That’s how the idea for the
Gina's POV The nursery smelled like fresh paint and baby powder, soft sunlight streaming through the white lace curtains that fluttered slightly in the breeze. I sat on the rocking chair near the window, my hand resting over my growing belly, which had become more prominent with each passing week. I was just seven months along, and though I felt constantly tired and achy, I also felt an overwhelming sense of love swelling inside me—more than I thought was humanly possible.Alex had just left for a quick meeting with our lawyer to finalize some estate documents. Evelyn was downstairs preparing her herbal tea mix that she claimed would "bring me peace of mind and smooth sleep," and Lana was folding tiny baby clothes in the corner of the room. It was a quiet morning. Too quiet.I shifted in my seat, rubbing my belly as a sharp ache shot up my spine. I winced but brushed it off. Pregnancy was full of strange sensations—this had to be just one of them. But a few minutes later, the ache r
Gina's POV The courtroom was colder than I remembered, its marble walls echoing the low murmurs of conversation, the clicking of heels, the scratching of pens. I wasn’t physically there—I was still confined to my bed—but through the live stream set up on my bedside table, I watched everything unfold.Alex sat at the front beside our lawyer, composed and confident in his tailored navy suit. Beside him, Evelyn, dignified in a modest beige dress, clutched a worn leather folder tightly in her lap. Her hands trembled slightly, but her eyes held the strength of someone ready to face the ghosts of her past.I pulled the blanket tighter around me, my heart pounding. This was it.“Court is now in session,” the bailiff announced.I gripped the edge of my blanket. This wasn’t just about reclaiming the estate anymore. It was about reclaiming the truth—our family’s truth. It was about protecting our baby’s future from a man who had threatened everything we held dear.Victor sat across the room, a
Gina's POV The room was silent except for the steady ticking of the antique grandfather clock that stood tall near the window. I lay in bed, propped up with an array of soft pillows, my hands gently resting on my growing belly. The sun had barely risen, but I hadn’t slept. My mind buzzed with anxiety, thoughts turning in endless circles.Alex had been pacing the hallway since dawn, talking to lawyers and strategists, his voice hushed but urgent. I could feel the weight of our reality pressing down harder with each passing day. The threat Victor posed wasn’t just legal anymore—it was dangerous, personal. And with each letter from Evelyn, each scrap of evidence we uncovered, the stakes only grew.I had never imagined a world where my family’s legacy could turn into a battlefield, or where protecting my unborn child would mean playing dangerous games of deception and strategy.When Alex finally stepped into the bedroom, his face was pale but determined. His suit was pressed, his tie per
Gina’s POV The morning sunlight filtered gently through the gauzy curtains, wrapping the living room in a soft golden glow. The sound of waves crashing against the distant shoreline was like a lullaby to my anxious heart, and for the first time in days, I allowed myself to relax. I stretched slightly on the couch, my swollen belly cradled by pillows, and let my eyes drift lazily across the pages of the book I was reading.Lana sat just behind me, carefully running a wide-tooth comb through my tangled hair. She was gentle—always had been. Her hands worked through the knots in slow, practiced strokes, humming quietly as she did so. It reminded me of childhood days, when my mother would brush my hair and talk softly about her dreams and regrets. It brought a strange sense of comfort, even amidst the chaos of recent events.“Lana,” I murmured, closing my book and glancing over my shoulder, “would you mind getting me a glass of water?”“Of course,” she replied warmly, setting the comb dow
Alex's POV The courthouse smelled of polished wood, nerves, and freshly brewed coffee. A place where truth was supposed to hold weight—but truth, I’ve learned, is fragile in the face of men like Victor Wells.The judge’s voice echoed in the courtroom as the proceedings began, stern and unwavering. I sat at the front bench beside our attorney, Mr. Langdon, a seasoned man with sharp eyes and a mind like steel. Beside Victor, his legal team looked smug—too smug for someone who hadn’t even seen the real documentation yet.Gina should’ve been here with me. She would’ve sat tall and poised, even in fear. But the doctor’s orders had been clear: strict bed rest. No exceptions. Not when her life and our baby’s were on the line.Just the thought of her curled up at home in bed while this circus played out made my jaw tighten. I was here not just as a husband—but as her voice, her shield, her sword.Victor looked every bit the conman he was, wrapped in a tailored gray suit and arrogance. He sat
Gina's POV “He claims to be Martin’s son,” Evelyn said. “My grandson. Your cousin, Gina.”The room tilted slightly.“Claims? You're not sure?” Alex asked, cutting in.“That’s why he’s claiming the estate,” I said slowly. “Because he believes it’s rightfully his.”“Yes. But he doesn’t know the full truth. He doesn’t know what Wilson planned. And he certainly doesn’t know that I kept every letter. Every piece of proof.”“And yes, I'm not sure”, Evelyn continued, throwing us into further confusion.My son, Martin, never told me about his son. I know he had a child some years back but I never met him. Surprisingly, this Victor Wells, has the resemblance of Martin. I suggest you carry out a DNA test to be sure if he's from our lineage. That will give you all the answers that you need, because if he isn't, a court case wouldn't be necessary.’She slid a box across the table toward me. “It’s all here. Letters, photographs, even legal documents Wilson sent me but never filed. They’ll be enou