Imogene Scott[Me: Damien agreed to go to the baseball match. Our plan is still go-go]I text Breonna as I step into the gallery. Now that we’ve done the easy part of the plan, which is getting Damien out of the house, we only need to worry about the other part.I’m pretty sure nobody is as excited as me about this party. I can already imagine the look of surprise on his face when he steps through the door and sees the surprise we pulled for him. As I walk deeper into the gallery, I see Emmett standing by the entrance to my office. “Good morning, Imogene.” he says. "Someone’s waiting for you in your office,"I stop mid-step and my heart skips. I know exactly who’s inside, but the knot in my stomach still tightens. I asked for this, didn’t I? It’s for Damien, I remind myself as I take a deep breath and nod at Emmett. "Thanks," He gives me a brief smile but doesn’t say more. I can tell he’s as uncertain about this as I am, though for different reasons. He doesn’t know the full s
Damien Shaw The next three days are perfect. Less work for Imogene, more time spent with her, just the way I’ve always wanted it to be. In three consecutive days, I’ve come home to find her in the kitchen, cooking. It’s like she’s determined to make up for lost time, and with every moment I spend with her, I fall even more in love.My birthday is in two days. I’m not too psyched about the baseball match with the very mysterious Emmett—I don’t even know how that’s going to go—but the family dinner? That’s what I’m really looking forward to. It’s the thought of being together, just the three of us, that makes me feel like things are finally right.Tonight, after dinner, Imogene puts Lily to sleep while I read her a bedtime story. Lily’s tiny hand grips mine as she listens to me fumble through the pages. Her eyelids get heavier with each word, and by the time I finish, she’s already drifting off. Imogene tucks her well under the blanket and smiles at me from across the room.We
Imogene Scott “I told you not to put those balloons there!” I shout across the room.Breonna gives me one of those long, tired looks—the kind that says ‘you’re worrying too much’—but continues tying the red balloon to the pole anyways. Of course, she doesn’t listen. We’ve got five hours to pull this off, and she’s focusing on the least important details. My nerves are stretched thin, even though we have a whole crew of event planners working to transform the house into something magical. Everyone’s playing their parts perfectly so far. Emmett’s doing a great job distracting Damien, keeping him far away from the house. Keith has handled the guest list and sent out all the invitations, which is why we’ve been texting so much lately. Breonna made sure the event planners pulled through at the last minute.But despite everything, I’m still worried. I really need this to be perfect for Damien.I turn to one of the event planners bustling nearby. “Where’s the cake?”“It’ll be here in le
Imogene Scott I laugh. “As the birthday king pleases.”I walk to the door, flicking the lock, anticipation buzzing through my veins as I turn back to him. He nods and pulls me towards him, claiming my mouth in a deep kiss. Our mouths fuse, he cradles the back of my head, then slides his hand down to the back of my neck. The touch is possessive and I love it.A low, thick moan tears from his throat, the sound muffled between our mouths. His naked need soothes some of the jagged edges I’m feeling, and shivers run through me. He pulls back slight, breathing heavily. “How much time do we have?”I glance at the clock on the wall and press my forehead to his, trying to catch my breath. “5-6 minutes.”His mouth curls into a sexy grin. “I can work with that.”He captures my lips in a lush kiss again. He devours me like he has been starved for me since forever. And I devour him back, inhaling his sexy, masculine scent, and feeling his hot, uneven breath on my skin. Lust grows until it see
Damien Shaw The sound of clinking glasses and soft music fills the air as I make my way through the party, greeting guests with a smile. The ballroom looks amazing—Imogene really outdid herself. The whole night feels so perfect and it’s all thanks to her. I catch a glimpse of her in the distance, laughing with a group of people. I really am the luckiest guy in the room. But then my gaze shifts, and I spot Breonna and Emmett in the corner. They’re deep in a conversation and their heads are close together, smiling like they’re sharing some private joke. It’s weird, really. I’ve noticed they don’t argue as much anymore, which is a relief. I’m not against whatever’s going on between them, but Emmett… there’s something about him. He’s this mysterious and secretive guy. Even when we went to that baseball game earlier today, it felt like he was holding something back. He was fun enough, sure, but there’s an underlying vibe that doesn’t sit right with me. I walk over and interrupt th
Damiem Shaw I stare at the name, the bile rising in my throat. Imogene has been meeting my father behind my back? My father, who walked out on me and my mom when I was barely old enough to remember his face? The man who left us to pick up the pieces of his mess, who disappeared without a trace only to show up out of the blue?Why? Why would she meet him? What could they possibly be talking about? I feel sick. She’s been meeting him. Behind my back. I clench the phone tighter, my mind screaming with questions. Why didn’t she tell me?I need to find Imogene.I push through the crowd. My chest is tight and every breath is coming out short and shallow. The room feels too loud, too full, people laughing, chatting, drinking. But all I can hear is the pounding of my heart.I spot Imogene by the far end of the room, still laughing with some guests. My hands clench at my sides as I make my way over. I don’t say anything when I reach her; I just grab her hand, hard, and start pulling her aw
Damien Shaw She recoils at my words, hurt flashing in her eyes. But I can’t stop. Every unresolved emotion I’ve been bottling up, about my father, about Imogene’s secrecy, about Keith about every single thing comes crashing down like a tidal wave.“You don’t get to decide this for me,” I continue. “This is my life, my father. You don’t get to make decisions about something that hurt me for years without telling me.”“I wasn’t trying to make decisions for you,” she says, her voice shaky. “I just wanted to help. I thought maybe if you two could talk…”“I don’t want to talk to him!” I yell, cutting her off. “I don’t want anything to do with him! You know that. You’ve always known that. But you went behind my back anyways. How could you do that?”“Because I care about you, Damien! I thought maybe if you could get some closure, it would help you heal.”“I didn’t ask for your help! I didn’t ask for any of this! You’ve been keeping secrets from me, meeting my father behind my back. What e
Imogene Scott I stand in the bedroom, more tears spilling down my cheeks. How can this happen? One minute we’re celebrating, and the next… Damien looks at me like I’m the enemy.My breath hitches as a sob forces its way up my throat. I tried to help him. That’s all I wanted, to fix something, to make things better for him, close a chapter that’s haunted him for so long. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I’ve made everything worse.I sink to the floor, my knees hitting the carpet. I bury my face in my hands, the tears spilling freely now. Damien’s words echo in my mind. “You went behind my back. How could you do that?I didn’t mean to hurt him. God, I would never hurt him. I love him. But he was so angry, so hurt, and I couldn’t get through to him. He wouldn’t listen. He looked at me like I’d betrayed him, like I’d done the one thing he could never forgive.My sobs grow louder. I curl into myself, trying to muffle the sound. I hate this feeling, the helplessness, the guilt
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