I awoke to a gentle tap on my back. I groaned and whimpered, instinctively shrugging the hand off me. Undeterred, the person continued their ministrations, now stroking my hair soothingly. I huffed out a breath of pure annoyance, squeezing my pillow under my head in a tighter embrace and slightly shifting away from the persistent source of disturbance. My mind quickly began to stir, and I mentally cussed at whoever had dared to disturb my much-needed slumber.Wait, what had I been dreaming about?I snapped my eyes open, only to be greeted by a nasty, pounding headache. My mind instantly told me that the dream had been important, something I shouldn't have forgotten, but instead of helping me recapture the missing memory, the searing pain that blossomed within my skull effectively blocked out any lingering recollections."Fuck," I hissed under my breath, squinting my now twitching and stinging eyes. It suddenly felt as if an elephant had taken up residence on my head, the responsive an
'Ugh, damnit! I'm never getting married in my next life or even having sex,' I grumbled internally as I dragged my weary body towards the kitchen. I had to admit, I was thankful that I had the foresight to bake the cakes and desserts ahead of time — if I hadn't, I wouldn't have had the energy to do anything.Rominic trailed quietly behind me, his hands clasped innocently behind his back, a maddening smile playing on his lips. He hummed softly as he kept a careful distance of about three paces, not daring to venture closer. I briefly regretted declining his offer to carry me, but I had been too embarrassed at the prospect of the children seeing him with his hands all over me.Glancing over my shoulder, I caught his gaze, and he flashed me a grin that only served to stoke the fires of my resentment. Why was I the only one suffering? Why did it always fall to me to bear the brunt of his desires?Huffing in annoyance, I finally made my way into the kitchen, only to pause at the doorway, t
Rominic's ViewpointI ran a weary hand through my hair, a heavy sigh escaping my lips as I tried to focus on Stacy's frantic words. It was difficult to concentrate, my mind consumed by thoughts of my wife, who had locked herself away in her room and refused to come out.It had been five days since the article detailing her previous lifestyle had been uploaded to the media. The article did not paint her in a negative light; rather, it portrayed her as a saint, emphasizing the struggles and pain she had endured in order to care for our children. It also revealed the truth behind her purported "fake death." If anything, the article had succeeded in casting me as the cruel, heartless bastard I truly was. It seemed aimed at utterly destroying my reputation, tearing down the image I had worked so hard to cultivate.With such a damning article now public, my business and family were under critical attack. The article did not hide the awareness of my family and friends but lied about them sta
I walked into the house absentmindedly, my fingers deftly unfastening the buttons of my shirt. I still felt overwhelmed by the crushing weight of grief and guilt, to the point where simply breathing was becoming a painful effort. But unlike before, I now had a clear purpose in mind, and that was exactly what I intended to pursue."You're back," a soft voice stopped me in my tracks. I looked down to see my daughter, Serenity, standing before me, clutching her favorite stuffed toy. Her eyes were deep and teary, with dark circles beneath them, yet they were filled with a glimmer of expectation as she gazed up at me."Daddy, did you get a call from Miss Beira?" she asked.Realization dawned on me then. She had been the one to call Beira. I should have guessed as much, since she was the only one who had accompanied Lavender to her therapy sessions in the early weeks."Mrs.," I corrected gently, "and yes, I did.""I asked her to check on you because you seem to be losing your mind," Serenit
I gnawed on my thumb anxiously, my gaze glued to the screen of my phone as I scrolled through the comments on a shared post concerning me. The comments were a mixed bag, most of the negative ones condemning me for going back to Rominic, who had, in their eyes, ruined my life. Many fiercely insulted me for my supposed immorality, claiming there was always a way out without resorting to using my body.I pulled my thumb from my mouth and glared at the phone. "What do they know? It's not like they've been in my situation," I muttered, then returned my thumb to its comforting haven between my teeth. They had no idea what I'd been through, so who were they to judge? Some people even commented on my foolishness for believing someone out of my league could love me, shaming me for being a gold digger and getting what I deserved.My anxiety ratcheted up a notch. I was never after Rominic's money, maybe his fame, but not his wealth. I'm not a gold digger. I never was, and I never will be. 'Is th
"First of all, you're not a gold digger," Anna said firmly, her voice laced with fierce protectiveness. "So don't ever think you are. And even if you are, so fucking what? You were with him for almost three years, you dated him, slept with him, and even bore him five children all at once. Let's not forget you raised them until now. So what if you came back because of his wealth? You deserve that and much more. Don't let those jealous fools get to you," she finished, her gaze unwavering."And he took your wealth from you," Gael added, his voice low and filled with a quiet anger."The wealth was never hers to begin with. She foolishly handed it to her father – ow!" Ferris cried out, clutching his leg as Elias gave him a swift kick to shut him up. Ferris really had enough of me. He never tried to mince his words anymore. As much as I appreciated his honesty, it still stung."And out of his league? Who the bloody hell do they think they are?!" Suzanne hissed, angrily picking up a cushion
Eyes filled with resentment and anger stared straight at the TV, the screen a stark contrast to the storm brewing within. The sound of teeth grinding echoed in the background, a rhythmic clicking that punctuated the heavy silence of the living room. The TV was muted, the only sounds were the woman's ragged breaths and the insistent grinding of her teeth.The blue-eyed woman, her face contorted in a mask of fury, bit into her fingernails, drawing blood. Her other hand, clenched into a fist, dug into her thigh, her fingers leaving white marks on the soft leather of the sofa. Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor, a metronome marking the passage of time, each beat a reminder of her failure. She couldn't believe it. Her carefully laid out plan, her perfect plan, destroyed by a single, insignificant boy.It hadn't taken much to concoct the new plan, but gathering the information, the pieces she needed to put it into motion, had been a challenge. She had hoped it would yield a considerat
I gazed out the window, watching the scene unfold below. Serenity danced gracefully in the pool, her movements captured by Zyaire's camera. Savia sat nearby, her laptop open as she stole glances at the pair, a pensive look on her face. Zayne, lost in his own world, brushed paint across a canvas, immortalizing the moment.I sighed heavily, tearing my gaze from the lively scene. Lifting my eyes to the bright, cloudless sky, I felt the weight of the day's boredom press down upon me. Thoughts, unwelcome but persistent, began to ease their way into my mind. I fought to push them back, but the deepest ones refused to be silenced.My mind raced, grappling with the question of how I would move forward from this point. Returning to work under Rominic was no longer an option. Though I knew I had done nothing wrong, the thought of facing the inevitable stares and whispers from my colleagues filled me with dread. Even if they dared not speak out of fear of their boss, my husband, I couldn't bear
Lavender's POVI sat curled on the plush armchair in the living room, the soft hum of background music barely registering in my ears. My phone was in my hand, the screen glowing with an all-too-familiar face staring back at me. The article on Apollo was everywhere, plastered across every major news outlet.I scrolled through it begrudgingly, my thumb moving slower than I wanted it to. Why am I even reading this? I thought bitterly, glaring at his perfectly curated image.Apollo Dean Stine. Even his name sounded ridiculous. The man wore charm like armor, his bright silver eyes twinkling with a cheerfulness I could only describe as infuriating. They had a strange quality to them, shifting colors subtly with different lighting. People always gushed about how unique and mesmerizing they were, but to me, they were nothing short of absurd."Who in the world has stupid eyes like that?" I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.I scrolled further, my eyes catching on his recent look. He'd
I smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "He's back in school," I said, "but honestly, I'm worried. There's something he's not telling me. Rominic knows what it is, but…" I trailed off, my smile slipping.Mentally, I couldn't help but dwell on the search for the mastermind behind the abduction. Days of effort had yielded nothing—no clues, no leads. The frustration was like a weight pressing against my chest. What kind of person could target a child like that? And more importantly, what wrong did Rominic commit to them?Elias offered me a reassuring smile. "Everything will work out, Lavender," he said, his voice steady and calming.Ferris snorted softly, pulling a blue handkerchief from his pocket to wipe Jewels's mouth, which was smeared with muffin crumbs. "She's just jealous," he said, smirking at me. "Her kids are keeping secrets from her and telling Rominic instead."I narrowed my eyes at him, heat rushing to my cheeks. "How does that have anything to do with som
Lavender's POVI sat at the corner table of the smoothie bar, one leg crossed over the other, sipping leisurely from my Chocolate-Covered Cherry Smoothie. The thick, rich flavor of chocolate swirled with tangy cherry lingered on my tongue as I half-listened to Gael's voice, which had been droning on for the past ten minutes about his latest date."…And then she has the audacity to talk down to the waiter like he's beneath her!" Gael exclaimed, his steel-blue eyes widening with exaggerated disbelief. He leaned forward, his alabaster skin catching the soft afternoon light filtering through the windows. His blonde hair, styled effortlessly, only added to his charm, and his voice carried a lilt that could make even the dullest topics sound vaguely enticing.But Gael wasn't my type.Sitting across from him, I allowed myself a subtle smirk. Sure, he was a man blessed with a near-flawless appearance, abs included, but his constant skirt-chasing rendered any allure completely null. Not to men
Rominic's POVThe air in the room grew heavy with Lavender's mortification as her face turned a deep shade of crimson, the flush creeping down her neck. She stared at me, wide-eyed, before shifting her gaze to Zayne.Our son sat propped against the headboard, pale and fragile but very much awake, his winter gray eyes fixed on us with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. I could see the faint tremble in his body, likely from exhaustion, but his expression was laser-focused on his grievance: he had been forced to witness his parents kissing.The look on his face was enough to break the tension. I let out a soft chuckle, amused by the sheer absurdity of the moment. He wasn't disgusted by the kiss itself—it wasn't like we hadn't been affectionate in front of the children before—but he clearly hated that he had to be the one to see it now.Zayne's gaze shifted from Lavender to me, and this time it was sharper, more pointed. He wasn't just annoyed anymore—he was glaring. My smirk widened as
I sat on the edge of Zayne's bed, my fingers curled lightly around his small hand. The warmth of his skin was reassuring, a reminder that he was here, safe, and alive. My eyes drifted to his face—soft, peaceful, a stark contrast to the pale, exhausted look he'd worn when we found him. Now, his chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, the color slowly returning to his cheeks.Five days. Five long, agonizing days since he collapsed in my arms at the police station. Five days he had spent unconscious, his body fighting to recover from starvation and the sheer strain of his ordeal.My thumb brushed against the back of his hand, and I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. He hadn't eaten for nearly five days during the abduction, yet he found the strength to free himself, to outsmart those monsters, and to drive to safety. It was extraordinary, a feat beyond anything I could have imagined for a boy his age.And yet, my chest tightened painfully. He was nine. A child. My child.I closed my e
Tucson growled, his face twisted in rage as he tried to push himself up. But Zayne didn't give him the chance. His hands moved with trembling speed as he slammed another pin into one of Tucson's pressure points, his breathing ragged and shallow.The man's limbs went limp almost instantly. Tucson groaned, his eyes blazing with fury as he lay immobilized, his muscles betraying him. And not less than a few seconds, he collapsed.Zayne stood over them both, his chest heaving, his legs feeling like jelly. Sweat dripped from his temples, stinging his eyes, but he didn't wipe it away. His hands were trembling, his fingers still tingling from the adrenaline surging through him."Idiots," he muttered, his voice steady but laced with quiet anger.He dropped to his knees and began rifling through their pockets, his fingers fumbling in his haste. The cold press of metal against his skin told him he'd found a set of keys, and the smooth glass of a phone soon followed. His heart was still hammering
The heavy metal door clanged shut, and Zayne's shoulders tensed as the muffled voices of his earlier captors faded. He exhaled a shaky breath but had little time to compose himself before the door swung open again.Tucson was the first to stride in, his boots thudding against the concrete floor. He ran a hand through his greasy hair and sneered, "Ugh, it's the brat again. Why do I always get stuck with this crap job?"Behind him, Morris entered, his presence immediately commanding more respect. He was a tall, dark-skinned man, standing just over six feet. His broad frame filled the doorway, his bright green eyes contrasting starkly against his ebony skin. He was a stark contrast to Tucson's rough edges, but there was no kindness in his expression.Zayne kept his head down, his small frame curled in the corner as if trembling in fear. He buried his face against his knees, letting out soft sobs that echoed faintly in the empty room.Tucson barked a laugh, the sound loud and grating. "Fi
Zayne's POV Zayne sat hunched in the far corner of the large, barren room, his back pressed against the cold cement wall. The dim light overhead flickered faintly, casting erratic shadows on the unadorned gray walls. The air smelled faintly of damp concrete and old sweat. The only furniture in the room—a small, round table and two wooden chairs—sat near the door, like a cruel joke of hospitality.For the past three days, his captors had been relentless in their vigilance. The men guarding him rotated in pairs every twelve hours, their shifts as regular as clockwork. Zayne had counted fourteen different faces so far, each one more intimidating than the last. Not once had he seen a repeat. It was maddening to realize how methodical they were, making it nearly impossible to track patterns or exploit weaknesses.His wrists and ankles were bound securely with heavy locks and thick chains, leaving him no option for physical resistance. Every attempt to shift positions resulted in the cold
The muffled hum of idle chatter seeped into Zayne's consciousness, tugging him from the depths of unconsciousness like a persistent mosquito's whine. His eyelids felt glued shut, and his temples throbbed with an ache that pulsed in time with the low rumble of an engine.At first, the voices grated against his senses. The inane conversation was a jumble of vulgarities and half-formed thoughts, an assault on his already-frayed nerves. He wanted to groan, to shout at them to shut up—but then clarity struck like a lightning bolt.That kind of idle banter wasn't supposed to be anywhere near him.His eyes snapped open, the transition from darkness to dim light making him wince. For a disorienting moment, the world swam in blurred shapes and muted colors. He blinked rapidly, his focus sharpening. He was seated awkwardly on the floor of a car, his legs bound tightly together with coarse rope. His wrists were similarly tied, though the knot was haphazard at best, the frayed strands scratching