Imogene Scott The morning air is cold as I stand in the driveway. “Breonna, hurry up!” I call toward the house.The front door creaks open, and Breonna steps out with a small suitcase in her hand. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun. She looks…ready. Ready to leave. “This is the last one,” she says with a grin, dragging the suitcase toward the car. I smile back. “You sure you haven’t hidden another bag in there somewhere?” She laughs and hoists the suitcase into the trunk, where three more are already loaded.“You guys really don’t have to see me all the way to the airport,” Breonna says, turning toward me. “Who says we don’t have to?” Damien’s voice cuts in from behind us. I turn to see him walking across the lawn, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. “You deserve this much,” he says, gently taking Breonna’s hand for a moment before letting it go. Breonna looks down, blinking rapidly, but says nothing. Damien strides over to his car, unlocking it wit
Hi, readersI’m thrilled to announce that Breonna’s journey doesn’t end here! A sequel exploring her new life in New York is in the works and will be available soon. Follow Breonna as she navigates the challenges of a new city, a budding career, and unexpected twists that will keep you turning the pages. But don’t worry—Damien and Imogene’s story is far from over. Their journey continues, with new challenges and heartfelt moments. Stay tuned for more updates, and thank you for your unwavering support.
Imogene Scott It’s been over two weeks since Breonna’s left and things still aren’t back to normal yet. I still sometimes forget she’s gone and Damien has been trying his best to be “my Breonna.” He’s been doing a pretty terrible job though. Literally nobody can replace Breonna. I’ve managed to FaceTime with her at least ten times in the last two weeks and Damien says he’s worried about me. He thinks I’m obsessed and I should really find a new hobby.There’s less work load at the gallery for now because of the new curator I hired. Sheila Walsh. She’s part timing for now until she finally gets the scholarship she applied for. So technically, she’s also going to leave eventually. I’m trying my best not to bond with her.On the other hand, we’ve had three doctor’s appointments so far and yes, the twins are healthy. But even the doctor wants me to pick up a stress free hobby. Something that helps me clear my mind at the end of the day. Damien thinks country club is the solution so
Imogene Scott “Of course,” Laurel says. “You can’t just walk around in... that.” Her eyes skim over my casual jeans and loose blouse. Being pregnant makes you dress anyhow, it’s the hormones. I want to say no. Really, I do. But something about their effortless confidence makes me falter. “Okay,” I say finally. They lead me to the dressing room, which is as luxurious as everything else—marble countertops, gold accents, and full-length mirrors everywhere. Laurel hands me a set of clothes: a pair of mid-thigh shorts and a polo shirt. I stare at myself in the mirror after changing. The shorts hug my legs in a way I’m not used to, but they’re comfortable. The shirt fits snugly, and for a moment, I can’t help but smile. I haven’t lost it, my figure still holds its shape, even after Lily and the twins. Well, that’s something to fell confident about.“Not bad,” I murmur to myself, smoothing the fabric. When I step out, Emilia whistles. “Well, don’t you clean up nicely.” I roll
Damien Shaw With Breonna gone and everything, Imogene has been a…lot. Still, I’m glad she’s at least trying out this country club thing, even if it’s just to humor me. Honestly, though? I’m mostly in favor because of the uniform. God bless whoever designed it.After drying off, I pull on a pair of shorts and a plain white T-shirt. I rake my fingers through my damp hair, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror for a moment. My jaw looks tighter than usual. Stress, no doubt. The situation at the office has been eating at me. A senior executive, Alan Walker, someone I trusted was bribed by a rival to leak information about Edge-N, our newest tech. It hasn’t exploded yet, but the fallout is inevitable if I don’t get ahead of it. Pushing the thoughts aside, I head downstairs. The house is quiet except for the faint clatter of dishes coming from the kitchen. The scent of roasted chicken and herbs wafts through the air, drawing me toward the dining room. Imogene is there, se
Imogene Scott I grip the steering wheel a little tighter as I drive through the light morning traffic. Lily’s drop-off went smoothly enough, though her insistence on showing me her latest drawing in the car had nearly made us late. Seel’s Café comes into view. It’s small, rustic sign is swinging slightly in the breeze as usual. I park across the street, grab my purse from the passenger seat, and head inside. I’m meeting Dad here and apparently it’s very urgent. After his call last night, I wondered what it could be about. He hardly calls me without a solid reason. He’s so engulfed in his life with Lila. Not that it means anything to me, I’m happy they’re happy. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods envelops me the moment I step in. I glance around, my eyes landing on the window seat. Dad’s favorite spot. It’s empty. Sliding into the chair, I order a cup of warm milk from the barista. “No sugar, please,” I add with a small smile, then settle in to wait. I
Damien Shaw I don’t thing I’ve ever had such a shitty day in a while. It’s driving me crazy.I lean back in my chair, my eyes fixed on the ceiling. The day has been a complete disaster. The product launch—the one project we’ve poured millions into, the one that was supposed to solidify IMU’s dominance in the market—has backfired. Financial losses looming. My head pounds, and I rub my temples, trying to stave off the dull ache that’s been building since morning. The faint sound of heels clicking against the polished floor outside pulls me back. Kia steps in. She’s been working with me for months already and she’s been doing her job so diligently. She holds a tablet in one hand and a folder in the other. “The investors are all in the boardroom,” she says.I sit up straight, narrowing my eyes. “I didn’t call any meeting.” “They did,” she says, shifting her weight slightly. “It looks like they’ve been talking to each other behind the scenes.” A wave of frustration washes
Imogene Scott After dinner that night, I put Lily to bed and read her a bedtime story. As soon as she falls asleep, I go back to our bedroom. Damien seemed a little off during dinner. Like he had something on his chest he didn’t want to get out. It bothers me. As I walk down the hallway, my phone buzzes in my pocket, breaking the quiet. I glance at the screen: Dad. “Hello?” I answer, keeping my voice low.“Imogene,” my father says. “Hi, Dad.” I lean against the wall, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “How are you?” “I’m fine. How are you? And how are the twins?” “They’re good,” I say. There’s a pause, the kind that makes me press my lips together, bracing for whatever excuse he’s about to give. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it today,” he says. “Something important came up at work.” “It’s fine,” I reply automatically.“Can we meet tomorrow instead? Same café?” I glance down the hall toward the bedroom, where a faint sliver of light glows beneath the door. “Sure.
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
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 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
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 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.
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
“Yes,” I say with a little more heat on it than I would’ve liked. “Because he believed in me. He believed I could do it.”“Okay.”“He believed in me.”“I understand.”Beat.“Can you tell me what happened after you helped him save the company?” Annie pauses to find the right words. This one I don’t want to answer but I feel like if I wiggle around it Annie will just come right back for the jugular with her follow up. I tread with caution.“Well… he got married again.”“And you?”“Yes, what about me?”“Were you in touch with him?”“Well, he had his new life. We barely kept touch.”Annie holds another of her trademark unreadable stares at me. Even though I can’t gauge the specics, I can tell there’s a lot of speculation going on. I feel theneed to add more.“Plus, we started keeping in touch again recently.” I give a little nod to punctuate my statement. I’m hoping that moved the dialon Annie’s judgment, but after a few seconds I can tell it didn’t.Annie purses her lips. “Who reached
Imogene Scott I sit down in the tufted chair opposite Dr Annie Eddie and let out a sigh. This is my first therapy session with her and I’m a little nervous. I’m only here because of Damien. Because I want to be better for him, for Lily and the twins. I tell her a few things about my life I’m comfortable telling anyone and she tells me in order to get to what’s underneath those emotions, what’s driving it, we need to unpack my life in a more comprehensive way.“Okay…” I’m hesitant. What will this entail? I hate the uncertainty.“And please, address me as Annie.” I nod. “Sure.”“Now, I want to understand more about Little Imogene,” she says tenderly. “I understand your mother died of cancer when you were just ten.”Always with the childhood, these therapists. I’ve seen enough movies and TV shows to know that this is the classic therapeutic scapegoat. Some shit happenedin your childhood, it messed you up, that’s why you are the way you are.But not me. I didn’t have an alcoholic d
Damien Shaw The kitchen smells like butter and eggs as I stand by the stove, flipping the omelette in the pan. The sizzle fills the air, and I catch the faintest scent of parsley—Lily insists she hates green things, but I sneak them in for her anyway. I glance at the clock above the sink. It’s later than I thought. Imogene is still upstairs with the doctor. I hope that goes smoothly, but something tells me it won’t. “Mummy says eggs make you strong like Superman!” Lily’s voice cuts through my thoughts as she rushes into the kitchen.“Is it ready, Daddy?” she asks.She’s peering up at me with those wide, curious eyes that make me feel like I’m doing something right in this whole parenting thing. “Just in time,” I say.I slide the omelette onto a small plate, cut it into smaller pieces, then hand it to her. “Thank you!” she chirps before scampering into the living room. I follow her with my eyes as she climbs onto the couch, settling in with her plate. A faint movement ca