[Addison]
I thought we were in love. I thought we were a family.
It’s funny the way things can change in a snap.
My world changed the day of my son‘s sixth birthday.
It’s not everyday that your only child turns six, so I wanted to make the day extra special for my son. I work overtime every day, securing business for our family law firm, but I left early, squeezing as much as in to the early morning hours, so I could take the rest of the day off to make his favorite meal from scratch and bake his very special birthday treats.
He is my miracle child and deserves the very best.
Donning a fancy outfit I selected for this occasion, I floated out of the house on a cloud of happiness. He is going to be so surprised! I can’t wait to see the look of joy on his smiling face.
“Mrs. Stone,” the crossing guard., Mrs. Jenkins greets me as I approach my son’s school. “What’s the occasion? This wouldn’t be for a special little gentlemen’s special day?”
Her eyes sparkle as she gazes up at the balloons in my hands, and looks down to see my knee-length, rhinestone dress that floats from my waist like a cloud of cotton candy.
“Well, it isn’t every day Jayson turns 6,” I smile back at her. I never dress like this, preferring the practicality of a smartly tailored suit and the simplicity of a face clean of makeup, but Jayson always wanted me to be like “the other mommies,” who wore fancy jewelry and sparkling dresses.
“I thought I’d be a princess for him today.” I point at the tiara and glitter.
“Well you look spectacular, Mrs. Stone,” Mrs. Jenkins nods in approval her gentle smile extending across her face as she holds back the cars for me. My heart lifts, feeling her warm gaze follow my movements as I safely approach the main gates of Westwind Academy, one of the most prestigious schools in the Upper East Side.
It’s a rare occasion that I can take this much time off just to be with my little guy. I work in my husband’s law office and often work later hours than he does as his assistant and co-council.
I was a top law school graduate, but after marrying my husband, Michael, I turned down a huge offer without hesitation and chose to work as a legal advisor for his small company instead. The law waits for no one, but neither does childhood. Jayson is growing up so quickly. Before I know it he’ll be off and gone, heading to college and I’ll miss all these small moments.
But where is he? His teacher should have brought him to the gate.
“Jayson!” I call out, my heart racing. This school is safe. Nobody but family could take him so he must be around here somewhere.
“Jayson, where are you?” I try again. This is strange. I even sent a text to his teacher reminding her that I’d be picking my son up early for his birthday. And now he seems to be missing.
“Did I make a mistake?” My fingers grip the cast-iron bars of the school gate as I pull my phone from my purse. No, it is Monday the 7th, 1 pm. The reminder is in my calendar with a note reminding me to pick him up early. There are no text messages saying that anything has changed, no note from his father or his school. He should be standing right there, in his usual spot, next to the lilacs.
Just as I turn towards the school office, my son’s lilting laughter carries on the wind like birdsong. My skirt floats around me, twirling as I look for the source, hoping to find my son laughing as he runs towards me.
What I see instead is a beautiful family–mother, father, and child. The man, tall and handsome has beautiful cheekbones and the brightest blue eyes. Holding onto him is a little boy with hair so blonde it looks almost white, a shade or two brighter than my own. On the little one’s other side, the mother is holding onto him, her petite hand griping his small one with tenderness, her perfect golden blonde hair cascading down her back in gentle waves, diamonds glistening on her ears and wrists.
It is a beautiful scene except for one thing–that’s my family. My husband and my son. But that woman with her elegant clothes and her effortless beauty isn’t me.
As she turns her head towards the gate, the sunlight illuminates her profile, making her hair glow like a halo of gold. She has the face of an angel, with small, perfectly formed lips and luminescent eyes, large and golden-brown like a cat, like a more vibrant version of my hazel.
She is stunning. And familiar.
No. I must be mistaken. It can’t be her. Michael would have told me if she were back in town.
The woman raises her eyes and our gazes connect from across the field. She places a hand on Michael's shoulder before pointing in my direction, smiling warmly and I know at once I am not mistaken after all.
That’s Michael’s first love, the girl who broke his heart and left him a shattered mess for me to heal in her wake. His college girlfriend whose picture still resides behind his driver’s license in the front pocket of his wallet, right behind our wedding picture and the baby picture of his son.
The woman of my nightmares.
Evelyn Valentine.
[Addison]“He’s your son?” I ask, more confused than ever. “I thought his mother was dead.” She smiles with a perfect set of even, white teeth, her gaze surprisingly kind as she answers, “Well, yes, the shrew who birthed him is long gone, but I wouldn’t call her his mom.” “Oh, I see,” I don’t really, but I don’t want to be rude either as she hands me a cup of tea, patting my hand gently. “He wasn’t an easy boy,” Angelique continues, “so I guess I can’t blame her too much, except to say that if she didn’t like children, she shouldn’t have had any.” She frowns as she pours herself a cup of tea as well. “I love Haz, but he was damaged as fuck.” “Excuse me,” I sputter, not expecting such foul language from such an elegant and dignified looking woman. She laughs at my expense, finding my reaction amusing. “Oh sweet summer child, you are a gem,” she shakes her head. “So are you his…” I start to say but she finishes for me by telling me the truth: Yes, she raised him, but no not his wh
[Addison][A FEW HOURS AGO]The handsome young man in the fine suit and sharp looking glasses, held out his hand. Looking over his shoulder at my guards, he signals that they stay near the entrance. "Boss's orders. This is a secure site."As he moves his arms, I see more tattoos peaking from beneath the edge of his sleeve. He may be dressed to the nines, but underneath his suit, I suspect he has the markings of my boyfriend's gang, the Westside Thorns, He must be another of Hunter's reformed recruits. If he works here, that means this building, whatever it is, is likely run by Hunter's gang.Is this really a safe place for me to be? Even though the rest of my security stays by the door, their arms crossed as they watch us walk away, Charley stays firmly by my side. "I know where I'm supposed to be," her lips are pressed. "I don't care how 'secure' this place is, I'm not leaving your side." "Thank you, Charley, for keeping me safe," I nod gratefully.Monica jogs ahead of us, her shoes
[Hunter]“Do you think she’ll like it,” kneeling next to Livy, I hold her close and show her the ring I just pulled from the vault. “It’s for Addy.” She blinks twice and then gives me the first smile I’ve seen since the fire. She’s gone back to her almost mute state, like before we met Addison. Her therapist says that with love and patience, her voice should return. “She experienced a great trauma with the loss of your home, it may take her some time to recover.” After the death of her parents, she has already seen more violence than any child ever should.I need to do better to rid her world of monsters like Debrassy and Arrowheart. No more children should suffer because evil like them seeks to take advantage of the weak and innocent. The streets out there are hard. I learned that the hard way. I was a stupid kid, stubborn, and I pushed my mother and father too hard. My father threatened to disown me, and so I saved him the trouble by running away. Being a stupid teenager, I though
[Addison]Breathe.I need to remember how to breathe. "It was just an engine backfiring," a member of my security detail announces. Slowly they released me from the tight huddle they had made around my body as a human shield. As Charley stands, I notice her Kevlar vest visible around the edges of her dress shirt and I'm grateful knowing that none of my guards were actually in serious danger."Have you stopped them at the intersection?" One of my guards speaks quietly into their earpiece. "Are their identities confirmed? Yes. Okay, let them go." He then turns to inform me that it was "Just a delivery car."My heart is racing. I'm glad that Livy wasn't here to see and hear this panic. She has been seeing a therapist twice a week to deal with the trauma from the day she was attacked. She saw me almost die and watched her favorite babysitter killed in front of her. She may never recover--just like I have never recovered from seeing my own parents die. Can I live like this? Should I take
[Addison]With a single statement, my world has been turned upside down. My professor, my mentor, was the one who saved my life all those years ago, hiding me away under a different name so that I might have a chance at survival. So many questions are swirling around in my head. He said my case was the reason he quit working for the NYPD, but how much of his life has he spent protecting me? “Does the executor of my grandmother’s estate know?” I think back to when I asked for my file–the names of the officers involved had been redacted, marked into non-existence with a thick black marker. “No,” he shakes his head. “The only people who knew, sadly, are dead, likely taken out by the same people who destroyed your family.” He smiles sadly. “Funny enough that you’d end up working for his son and starting a family with him.” “Michael?” My first thought goes to my ex-husband. “But his father was a plumber and…” McCannon shakes his head with an amused smirk. “Not him.”And then I remember
[Addison]Adam Wright smiles at me with his million-dollar popstar smile between the fullest, most sensual lips I’ve ever seen on a man, or anyone. He’s handsome in a pretty way, his auburn hair cut artfully and yet still professional, framing his warm amber eyes which kiss at the corners at a sharp angle to match his architectural cheekbones. Today he is wearing thin, wire-rimmed glasses which take away from his K-pop appearance, and the German that spills from his mouth reminds me he’s not only attractive, but world traveled and intelligent. “German isn’t one of my languages,” I apologize as I hold out my hand. “Mr. Wright, what brings you to Grant Group.” “CCRP has been handed a case that involves racketeering on a global financial scale. The legal team here at Grant Group have more of a specialization in corporate finance law specifically, and a much larger global reach. We were hoping to collaborate.” McCannon’s eyes sparkle as he looks up at me. Something has him amused. “And