Damien Shaw “Please, keep the investigation discreet for now,” I say firmly, meeting Gerald’s gaze. My voice is steady, but my insides churn. Gerald nods and gathers his notes before leaving my office. The door clicks shut and I sink into my seat, pinching the bridge of my nose as my temples throb. Five meetings, all back-to-back in one morning. Each one is a battlefield of strategy, damage control, and trying to piece together what the hell is happening with this damn leak. My head feels like it’s about to split open, and the office suddenly seems unbearably warm. I loosen my tie and lean back, closing my eyes for a brief moment. I need just a second—one second to breathe— My phone vibrates against the desk, shattering the silence. I grab it immediately, hoping it’s Gerald with an update, but instead, I see Imogene’s name. It’s a text: Imogene: "I don’t think therapy is good for me."My stomach twists. Therapy. The session. What happened? My thumb hovers over her nam
Imogene Scott The bedroom feels too big when Damien walks out. I sit up in bed, clutching the edge of the blanket. I let out a shaky breath, staring at the door he just closed. He’s going to ask me about therapy. I know he will. I don’t even know how to explain it. How do I tell him that sitting in that room felt like unpacking a suitcase only to realize you’ve brought nothing but broken things? That therapy didn’t feel like healing—it felt like dragging wounds out into the open and watching them bleed. I shake my head. I can’t stay in bed waiting for him to corner me. The quiet will drive me insane. I throw back the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My head spins as I stand, but I grip the bedpost and steady myself. I shuffle to the door, trailing my hand along the wall as I make my way downstairs. The faint hum of the stovetop reaches my ears, along with the rhythmic sound of Damien chopping something. I stop at the edge of the kitchen and watch him.
Imogene Scott A week later… I sit in the stiff leather chair, my hands resting over my stomach. The waiting room is quiet and the door finally swings open. The doctor steps in, holding a folder. My breath hitches. This is routine, I remind myself. Routine. I’m here for my usual checkup. Alone this time. I had told Damien he didn’t have to accompany me since he’s been missing a lot work a lot lately because of me.“Mrs. Shaw,” The doctor says with a polite nod, gesturing for me to join him in his office. I follow, my heels clicking against the tile floor. His office smells faintly of antiseptic and lavender, maybe. I sit across from his desk, the folder now open in front of him. He doesn’t look alarmed, but there’s a wrinkle in his brow. “Imogene, I’m glad you came in today.” “Is everything alright?” He nods but steeples his fingers, leaning forward slightly. “The babies are fine, but your stress levels are higher than we’d like. It’s starting to show in your vitals
Imogene Scott My mind is spinning as I step out of Lila’s office. Divorce papers. My father’s name on them. Lila’s isn’t. A billion-dollar check. For her? My heels echo sharply against the marble floor as I walk. In the lobby, I see the receptionist who texted me earlier and make my way toward her. She looks around nervously, then waves me over to a quieter corner. “You’re Mr. Scott’s daughter, right?” her voice low.“Yes,” I say. “Why?”She glances over her shoulder, then leans in, her voice barely above a whisper. “Your father was here the day before he was... you know. Killed. He and Lila had a huge fight in her office. I couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but it was bad.”My stomach drops. “Do you remember anything else? Anything at all?” She shakes her head apologetically. “No, but... there’s something not right about her. She’s hiding something about this company. I’ve been here a long time, and I know when something’s off.”I blink, trying to process her word
Damien Shaw "I don’t even know who to trust anymore." The words are frustrating as they leave my mouth. I press my hands flat against the edge of my desk, gripping it harder. Gerald stands across from me, his expression carefully neutral, but I can see the tension in his jaw. “Weaknesses in our security?” I continue. “And now we’re sure someone on the inside helped with the leak?”Gerald nods. “Yes. The evidence points to internal involvement. Possibly more than one person.” The idea sinks into my chest like a stone. More than one person. It’s almost unthinkable. My team, the people I’ve trusted, built this company with—could they really be working against me? My throat tightens at the thought. “We need a full background check on every employee,” I say. “No exceptions. I don’t care how long they’ve been with the company, whether they’re at the executive level or just interns. Go through them all.”Gerald hesitates, just for a second. “That’ll take time,” he says carefull
Imogene Scott I sit in the living room, wringing my hands together as I stare at the clock. The agency said they’d send the fourth candidate soon, but if she’s anything like the last three, I’m not sure I’ll survive the day. The first woman looked like she’d send me into an early grave with how tightly wound she was, and the second… I don’t even want to think about her. I could practically see her zoning out halfway through our conversation. The third one made me tilt my head in disbelief—a heavy coat, in this heat? On a blazing sunny day? What was she hiding under there? I shake my head, exasperated. A long sigh slips from my lips, and I sink further into the couch, staring at the sun-drenched curtains. Why is this so hard? I just want someone competent. Someone who can help me manage this house without driving me insane. The sharp ring of the doorbell jolts me upright. I spring to my feet, brushing invisible creases from my dress. Fourth time’s the charm, right? I don’t
Imogene Scott The man at the counter is already turning away, dismissing me, when he suddenly stops. "Wait a second," he says, scratching his chin. "There was this guy—Terry. Used to work here a few years back. He’d forge our company’s mark and make his own stuff to sell on the side. Got caught eventually, but we didn’t press charges. Just fired him." I freeze mid-step. "You didn’t sue him?" He shakes his head. "Nope. Boss said it wasn’t worth the trouble. But Terry packed up and left after that. Haven’t heard from him since." Something about this doesn’t sit right. "How long ago was this?" "Two years, give or take," he replies. I do the math in my head. Two years ago, my father was alive and very much involved in his business dealings. Could this Terry have something to do with the key? The timeline feels too coincidental. "Do you know where I can find him?" I press. The man shrugs. "We’ve got his old address in our records. No idea if he still lives there, though."
Damien Shaw I stretch in my chair, feeling the stiffness in my shoulders pull and then release. The clock on the wall reads 9:07 p.m. Another late night. Another day closer to the conference, and still no answers. I rub a hand down my face, willing the tension in my temples to ease. It doesn’t. My desk is a mess of reports, files, and sticky notes.Just as I reach for my bag, the office door swings open. Gerald steps in, looking as worn as I feel. “I’ve gone through background checks on half of the employees,” he starts without preamble, clutching a tablet to his chest. “Still nothing. But I’m digging deeper. I’ll—” “Not good enough,” I cut him off.Gerald falters. “I’m trying my best, sir.” “Try harder,” I snap, shoving my laptop into my bag. “We’re running out of time. If we don’t find out who helped the traitor before the conference, I’ll be walking into that room with a target on my back.” He lowers his head slightly. “I understand.” “Do you?” I retort, slinging my
Imogene Scott I slept through the night for the first time in weeks. No jolting awake. No sweat-slicked skin. No dreams of drowning in shadows. Just silence. Stillness. Peace.My eyes open slowly, blinking into the quiet morning light spilling through the gauzy white curtains. The ocean breeze flows in from the slightly open window. My head doesn’t feel like it’s been split in two.I pull the blanket down and sit up, cradling my growing belly with both hands. The twins will be here in a few weeks. Two heartbeats fluttering beneath my skin. Two tiny souls I haven't even met, but already love with an intensity that’s terrifying and beautiful all at once.My fingers press gently into the bump. “You two are going to be okay,” I whisper. “We’re all going to be okay.”A soft smile pulls at my lips. It’s real this time. Not the kind I force at dinner tables or mirror reflections. No, this one is real.“What are you smiling about?”Damien’s voice startles me. I look up as he steps into
Damien Shaw The sun spills through the curtains as my eyes flutter open. I groan, registering the soreness in my bones. I rub at my face, letting my hand fall onto the bed beside me…It’s empty.My heart kicks up, a sudden thrum against my ribs.Imogene is not here.The sheets are still warm, faintly scented with her shampoo and her pillow’s half-squashed. She couldn’t have gone far. But still… my throat tightens as I sit up fast, pushing the blanket off. My bare feet hit the cool wood floor and I stand, eyes scanning the quiet bedroom.I don’t call out. Not yet. My gut twists like it always does when she disappears from my line of sight. I step into the hallway, and I’m immediately hit with a warm, sweet and smoky smell.Pancakes?I follow the scent into the kitchen, tension loosening slightly with each step. And then I see her.She’s standing by the stove, her back to me, swaying ever so slightly to some melody in her head. She’s barefoot, in nothing but my oversized black T-shir
Imogene Scott“Mummy, how long are you going to be gone?” Lily’s small voice floats toward me.I pause, my hand hovering over the zipper of my suitcase. The last dress is folded neatly inside and I press it down before turning to face her. She’s standing by the edge of the bed.“Mummy will be back in a few days,” I say gently, kneeling in front of her and smoothing her curls with my palm. She looks at me like she’s studying me, trying to see if I’m telling the truth or just saying what I think she wants to hear.“Will Mummy be better by then?” she asks.My breath catches.Better.I nod, brushing my thumb across her cheek.“Yes, baby. Mummy will be fine.”Lily thinks about that for a second, then smiles. “Yes, then Mummy can go. Anty Kia will take good care of me.”A soft knock sounds on the door just as I press a kiss to Lily’s forehead. Sheila steps in. “Is there anything else you want to take to the water park, Lily?” she says.Before Lily can answer, Kia walks in right behind
Imogene Scott When I open my eyes, it’s dark outside.The ceiling fan spins slowly above me. My body feels warm as I place my palm on my forehead and try to register what time it is on the wall clock across the room. But my vision’s a little blurry and I can’t make out the numbers, so I sit up instead, blinking away the sleep.I swing my legs off the bed and the cold wooden floor kisses my bare feet. I tug Damien’s hoodie tighter around me before padding to the door. I didn’t mean to sleep that long. I was just going to close my eyes for a few minutes.The hallway is dim. I make my way down slowly, hand on the banister. My joints still feel a little stiff from laying in one position for too long.When I reach the last step, I spot him.Damien’s seated at the dining table, one elbow propped up, his head resting in his palm. His hair’s tousled like he’s run his hand through it a hundred times tonight.“Hey there,” I say, softly.His head snaps up.“You’re awake?” His voice is low.
Damien Shaw I help Imogene off the examination table slowly, my hands gripping her waist. She's light and it unsettles me more than I let on. She sits up and swings her legs over the edge, her fingers resting on my forearm to steady herself."I'm okay," she says softly.She’s not. But I nod anyway. We walk out of the room together and back into the office, where Dr. Rogers is typing something into her computer. The click of the keys fills the silence.She looks up and smiles, though there's a trace of something behind her eyes. Concern, maybe. Caution."Everything looks good so far," she says. "But we’re entering the home stretch now. Just a few more weeks. You both need to be careful, especially you, Imogene."Imogene nods politely. “We will.”I thank her and reach for the door handle, ready to leave. I’m already thinking about the drive home, when Dr Rogers calls out to me. “Damien, could I speak to you for a second?”I stop and glance at Imogene.“I’ll wait in the car,” she
Damien Shaw“You worry too much,” she says. “I’m fine.”I don’t believe her. But I let it slide. For now.I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it gently, holding on a little longer. Then I lean back and press on the gas, taking us the rest of the way.We pull into the hospital’s underground lot. I park, unbuckle, and rush around to open her door. She steps out slowly, her hand finding mine. Her fingers are colder than usual.Inside, the halls are clean, overly bright. We walk in silence to Dr. Roger’s office.She’s waiting when we arrive. “Glad to see Damien’s with you today.”I offer a hand. “Nice to see you too, Doctor.”We sit side-by-side, the chairs squeaking slightly beneath us. Imogene sits with perfect posture, her dress flowing around her legs.“So,” Dr. Roger says gently, “how are you feeling about everything?”“I’m fine,” Imogene says with a small smile.Her hand is in mine. I squeeze it.The doctor nods slowly. “Let’s go to the examination room. I want to check on the tw
Damien Shaw Returning to the living room, something feels...off.Imogene’s still sitting at the dining table, arms wrapped tightly around Lily. Her head turns the moment she hears me, and just like that, she lets go.I step closer. “Everything okay?”She lifts her face and gives me a smile. It's warm but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I see it immediately. “Just feeling a little emotional,” she says.I nod slowly. I don’t push, even though every instinct in me is screaming that something’s not right. “Eat up,” I say instead, nodding toward her plate.She nods and picks up her fork. I head to the counter, grab Lily’s pink backpack, and step outside. The spring air hits me as I open the back door of the car and slide Lily’s bag inside. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. By the time I’m back inside, Imogene’s finished eating. She wipes her lips gently, her eyes briefly flickering up to meet mine. I offer my hand.“Let’s go,” I say.She places her hand in mine. Lily ski
The last chapter has been edited. Read before you proceed. Imogene Scott Sunlight spills across the bed like golden syrup, warm and soft against my skin. I shift under the sheets, groaning quietly as I feel the heat against my eyelids. I blink once, then again, and finally push myself up on my elbow. Damien stands by the window, arms folded, wearing that smug little smile he always wears when he thinks he’s caught me being adorable. He’s already dressed in a gray fitted T-shirt and black joggers. His hair is damp from a shower, and he looks annoyingly refreshed. “Rise and shine, sweetie.” I groan and drag the covers over my head. “Ugh… it’s too early in the morning.” “It’s almost eleven,” he says with a chuckle. I fling the duvet back just enough to peek at him. “How did I sleep for that long?” He walks over, sits on the edge of the bed, and leans in with a playful glint in his eye. “Because I cuddled you in my arms all night.” I snort. “No. You’re not my sleeping pill.” “S
Imogene Scott As soon as Damien walks out the door, I let out a slow breath. It’s soft, almost soundless, like I’m trying not to break something fragile that still lives inside me. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m what’s fragile now. He really cares about me. I know that. Every word, every touch, every look tonight, he’s trying. He always has. But the truth is, I’m struggling. I don’t know where I’m at anymore. Everything feels fuzzy, like the world has gone slightly out of focus and I’m squinting to make it make sense again. I sit up slowly, brushing my hair back from my face. It’s still damp from the shower earlier, curling at the ends in soft, stubborn waves. I reach for my slippers and slide my feet in. They make a soft shuffling sound against the hardwood as I walk toward the door. It’s just 8 p.m. The hallway is dim and the air smells faintly of pancakes, probably and something else... cinnamon maybe. Damien must’ve added cinnamon. I smile a little at the thought. He always adds t