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
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
I scrubbed the top of the table as I hummed, scrubbing it hard to get the stains out. Some people can eat like pigs, horrible pigs. And unfortunately, it was my job to clean up after them. Okay, not exactly my job, but the person doing it before got sick so I volunteered to clean it and take her salary until she is back on her feet. I accepted the offer with open arms. The extra cash was good.I worked in a hotel as a bartender. I used to be a hotel porter, but after I complained about the male guest always finding a way to smack my ass, I was placed in the bar. The manager liked me and didn't want me to go and that is the most luck I had since I changed my name."Jamila, are you still here?" Speak of the devil. I gave the table the last finishing scrub before I stood up and placed my hands on my hips. The table was spotless."People can eat like pigs, no, in fact, people are pigs." I sneered. He laughed from behind me before I felt his hand on my shoulder."Jami, the real problem is y
"Mom, I prepared your bath for you," Savvy smiled. I nodded. "Don't worry, the others have all taken their baths but haven't brushed their teeth because as you can see," she looked at her younger siblings stuffing their faces with ice cream and pizza.Wait, where's Zachary?"Zachary is trying to figure out an algorithm to… what he said. Should I bring him some ice cream, Mom?""Sure," I turned and started walking to my room."How was work today?" She asked, following me into the hallway."It was good, very…" I stopped at their bedroom door, opened the door partly, and smiled as I saw Zachary focused on what he was doing. "Good evening, sir," Zach jolted from his seat.Zachary was the second eldest. He was the only one among his siblings who took no single feature from me. Even his intelligence was like that of his father's, if not higher that is. He was more of the cold-hearted type to outsiders and too obsessed with drawing a line between him and everyone he finds underneath his stand
Lavender went about her day like a miserable person. Her eyes were deep and hollow from crying throughout the night and her strength was almost depleted. She would have applied a lot of makeup to cover it up, but she didn't have the money to purchase a decent makeup kit. Her skin easily reacted if she used cheap or fake beauty products so she resulted in making natural concoctions to sustain her beauty. Still, the herbal and fruit mix was only for skincare and not to cover the horrible state of her face.It'd been days since her children broke the news to her and she'd been thinking nonstop. She was unable to sleep and spent the night crying or frantically staring at her two youngest children to make sure they were still breathing. The day before, the youngest suddenly started feeling dizzy and wheezing, and she knew it was connected to the second youngest. If she didn't act on time, she didn't want to think of what would happen. She was getting desperate and more depressed. It also ir
"Sir, your 3 o'clock is ready for you," Rominic looked up from the sheet he was scribbling on and stared dully at his secretary. As if feeling his gaze, she looked up from her notepad and stared at him in the eyes for a few seconds before she quickly averted her eyes back to the notepad. The first thing she thought was that she was right to check up on him. She was personally assigned to him by his mother, particularly tasked with keeping an eye on him and making sure he didn't overwork himself.She mentally rolled her eyes, that was the hardest part of her job. Everything else was easy but when it came to keeping him at full health, she wished she could quit. He was a stubborn and reckless man. He would unnecessarily work overtime and barely ate, and thanks to his insomnia, he was always having a headache or nosebleed. The man was stubborn enough to reject his medication, just so he could intentionally punish himself.She rolled her eyes again and scoffed. ‘If he was going to act like
Rominic refreshed the page over and over again, still not believing his eyes. He thought that seeing her name was the biggest confusion but while the cars drove to the hospital, he continued to investigate and he saw that the money was paid for the treatment of three children. What was getting him more confused was the names of the children. It couldn't be just a coincidence. It took his mind back to the conversation he had with Lavender on what he'd like to name his children.It was a Sunday night, he lay on his bed, one hand supporting the back of his head and the other placed over his forehead. He stared at the light, his mind calculating and trying to figure out what was stopping the new machine he was working on. He couldn't come up with anything, not even after two hours of just laying there and thinking."Are you still thinking?" Her voice broke through the silent room. He ignored her, which was followed by a laugh, her annoying but yet amusing laugh. She flung herse
‘Oh my fucking Lord!’ Lavender exclaimed in her head. He hadn't changed a bit. She could see that he was visibly thinner and with a couple of early gray strands to his beautiful creamy blonde hair, but his face remained the same. Lavender thought he was still handsome, still breathtakingly and abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous. She thought she was over it, but his handsome face always brought tears to her eyes and it did at that moment. To Lavender, he was just too beautiful and it pissed her off to know that his beauty still affected her.It was for a brief moment but when she locked gaze with his winter gray eyes, her heart skipped. She'd been staring at them through her children for years, but staring at the original made her feel different. She instantly tore her gaze away from his, but her eyes stubbornly shifted to his lips. They were slightly separated from surprise. She remembered that his lips were deep red. They were one of the favorite parts of his body she liked, so she always p
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
Lavender's POVThe cool, smooth leather of the office couch cushioned me as I sat cross-legged, my notepad balanced on one knee. I leaned forward, the pen in my hand moving swiftly, its tip scratching faintly against the paper. Around me, the soft, lingering scent of roses and bergamot filled the air—remnants of test bottles scattered haphazardly across my desk.Warm sunlight filters through the sheer curtains, bathing the room in a gentle glow. The golden light pools on the wooden floor and reflects off the edges of glass bottles, casting shadows across the walls. It's quiet except for the faint scratching of my pen and the low hum of the air conditioning. My gaze dropped back to the notepad where I meticulously outlined the ingredients for my latest obsession: a bold, layered perfume.The vision was vivid in my mind: the top notes would be sharp and citrusy, evoking the crispness of an early spring morning. The heart would be floral—a soft, comforting embrace, delicate yet unyieldin
Lavender's POVI stretched my legs out on the bed, crossing them at the ankles as I leaned back against the headboard. Papers, a file, and my laptop were scattered around me, the evidence of a day spent working. My phone buzzed faintly next to me, but I ignored it, too engrossed in the file I was reviewing.The sound of running water echoed from the open bathroom door. Rominic's voice carried through the space as he talked about his day, weaving details about a difficult client and a frustrating product launch into the hum of the shower. I half-listened, my eyes scanning the lines of the document in my lap."And then the old man had the nerve to criticize the campaign visuals," Rominic grumbled.I heard the sharp squeak of the shower handle turning, followed by the dull thud of water droplets against tile as the flow stopped. "Honestly, Lav, I don't know how I managed to keep my temper. Times like this, I wish Dad hadn't retired and left me to deal with this circus.""You handled it f