I blinked at William's question, momentarily thrown off by its bluntness. The word "married" lingered in the air, as it sounded totally uncalled for. And then, just like that, the wave of grief crashed over me again.I lowered my gaze to the cup of coffee in front of me, wrapping my hands around it as if the warmth might somehow anchor me. Married? How could I even begin to answer that? "No," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not married yet." recalling the truth that Leon and I’s wedding would no longer happen anymore because he’s already gone.There was a long pause, and I could feel William's eyes on me, studying my face as if trying to read between the lines. The weight of his gaze made me feel vulnerable, exposed, like he could sense the tangled emotions just beneath the surface."Yet...you mean—" he prompted gently, sensing there was more.I hesitated, biting my lip as I considered how much to reveal. I hadn’t talked about Leon with anyone outside of my close
The weight of the moment settled in the room as I cradled my newborn son in my arms, his tiny fingers curling around mine. I couldn’t stop staring at him, this little life that had just entered the world, so fragile yet so full of potential. Every breath he took was a reminder of the journey ahead, the life I would build for him, the love I would pour into him. He was the beginning of something new, something I hadn’t planned but was now fully ready to embrace.William stood quietly near the door, watching us and I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude toward him. He had rushed me to the hospital, stayed through the entire labor, and witnessed the birth of my child—an experience I had never imagined sharing with anyone but Leon.As I looked up at William, I could see that this had changed something between us. There was no need for words; the moment itself had forged a bond. He didn’t belong to this part of my life, yet here he was, having witnessed one of the most miracu
The soft sound of Lucas babbling in his crib pulled me out of my thoughts as I leaned against the kitchen counter, staring out of the window. It was a peaceful morning, and the air smelled of fresh rain. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I watched him wiggle his tiny fingers, trying to reach for the mobile that swayed above him. I still couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in such a short time. A year ago, I wasn’t even sure I could do this—raise a child on my own. But now, I was proud to say that I could. But of course, I wouldn’t even be able to do it without my family’s help.“Morning, child,” Aunt Lou’s voice greeted me as she shuffled into the kitchen, already dressed and ready to take on the day. Her energy amazed me. She was always up before everyone else, taking care of things as if it was second nature.Aunt Lou insisted that they stay into my apartment every now and then to make sure I have some company. And I could have someone to help me around with Lu
As the days passed after Lucas’ first birthday, I found myself caught between two worlds—the life I was trying to build as a mother to Lucas and the painful past that was clawing its way back into my present. Jack’s revelation haunted me, replaying in my mind during quiet moments. Was it really possible? Could someone have caused Leon’s death? The thought made my stomach churn, but I couldn't shake it.Despite the inner turmoil, life continued. Lucas was growing quickly, taking more steps each day, babbling new words that filled the house with joy. My Aunt Lou, Letty, and Lena were always around, giving me the support I needed to raise him. William, too, was a constant presence. His role as Lucas' godfather had strengthened our bond, though things remained strictly platonic after I’d rejected his romantic feelings. He never brought it up again, for which I was grateful, but it did make me feel awkward at times—how he could be so caring even after I’d turned him down.One afternoon,
It was a late afternoon when I found myself pacing the length of our living room, staring at the untouched coffee on the table. The memories of that night refused to leave me, the moment that had haunted me for weeks now. Justin—a name I had hoped would never cross my mind again. But the fear had taken root, growing like a dark shadow that loomed over me.I had watched him fall.I had watched him bleed.So why did the idea of him being alive claw at my insides?Leon's voice echoed in my memory from that night, strong and certain. “He’s dead, Margarette. There’s no way anyone could have survived that.” Jack had been there too, nodding, reassuring me that Justin was gone. But now, as the doubts took hold, all I could think about was the possibility that maybe we had all been wrong. No body was ever found. What if he had survived? What if he was hiding, plotting?I shook my head, trying to shake off the creeping paranoia, but it was too late. The seed had been planted. It had started wi
It had been another year, and Lucas was now a lively, playful toddler, always running around, laughing at the smallest things. His energy was boundless, and watching him grow had been the only thing that kept me grounded after everything that had happened. But as I stood in the living room, watching him chase after his favorite stuffed bunny, my mind wandered.I couldn’t keep living like this.All I could think about was his future. The fortune Leon had left for Lucas was more than enough to sustain us for years, but something didn’t sit right with me about relying solely on that money. Leon had worked hard for his wealth, and I wanted to make sure Lucas had something more than just an inheritance.But I hadn’t worked in years. It seemed impossible to even consider going back to the corporate world. I could barely remember what it felt like to sit in an office, much less handle the pressure of the business world again. Besides, who would hire someone who had been out of the game for so
It had been a week since the audition, and the silence from the producers was deafening. Every morning, I would check my phone, my emails—anything that might indicate whether I had landed the role or not. But each time, there was nothing. As the days passed, I started to convince myself that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.I wasn’t sure if I was more disappointed or relieved. Part of me wanted this so badly. The idea of stepping into a role, of being someone else for a while, had reignited something in me that I hadn’t felt in years. But the other part of me, the one that doubted every step I took, told me that maybe this was for the best. I hadn’t acted in so long. Maybe it was foolish to think I could just waltz back into the industry like I belonged there.“Lucas, slow down!” I called as I watched my little boy zoom around the living room, making car noises as he pushed a toy car across the floor.He giggled but didn’t listen. Instead, he sped up, making the car crash into the wa
The drive to the production office was a whirlwind of nerves and excitement. I couldn’t stop replaying Aunt Lou and my cousins' words of encouragement in my head, reminding myself that I’d made it this far, that this was just the beginning. But as I pulled up to the sleek, modern building where the meeting was being held, a knot of anxiety formed in my stomach. I took a deep breath, adjusted the strap of my purse, and stepped out of the car. You’ve got this, I reminded myself as I walked through the glass doors into the lobby. The receptionist greeted me with a warm smile, and after a quick check-in, I was led down a long corridor to a large conference room. The walls were adorned with posters from past movies, some of them critically acclaimed blockbusters. It was a reminder of the gravity of the industry I was about to step into. This is real, I thought. This is happening.The door opened, and I stepped inside. The producers, seated around a large wooden table, turned to look at m
The days that followed were a whirlwind of chaos.My father’s downfall was splashed across every news outlet. Financial crimes, money laundering, illegal dealings—his empire was collapsing, and with it, his reputation. His allies abandoned him one by one, choosing self-preservation over loyalty.But he wasn’t the kind of man to go down without a fight.That’s why I wasn’t surprised when I received the message.A single text.Suite 1103. One last talk. Come alone.Leon was furious. “Absolutely not.”I expected that reaction. I also knew there was no changing my mind.“Leon, this is my fight. My ending to write.”His eyes darkened. “He’s cornered, Margarette. That makes him more dangerous than ever.”I reached for his hand, squeezing it. “I’ll be fine.”He exhaled sharply. “I don’t trust him.”I smiled softly. “Good. Neither do I.”The Last Conversation—AgainSuite 1103 was dimly lit when I walked in. My father sat by the window, a drink in his hand, staring out at the city he once rule
We had expected my father to retaliate, but I knew he wouldn’t be careless. No, he’d take his time. He’d make sure his counterattack hurt.Which meant we had to strike first.Leon was already making calls before I even had to say anything. His contacts, his men—every piece of leverage we had was being mobilized.Victor paced across the penthouse, his expression tense. “Margarette, I don’t think you understand how much you just provoked him.”I crossed my arms. “Oh, I understand, Victor. That’s the point.”Leon smirked at my words, but his eyes were sharp as he cut in. “We need to draw him out. He’s not going to sit back and lick his wounds. He’s going to come for you.”Victor sighed. “And you’re just waiting for that to happen?”I walked over to the window, watching the city below. “No.” My voice was calm. “We’re leading him exactly where we want.”Victor ran a hand through his hair. “And where is that, exactly?”Leon leaned against the counter, his voice casual but firm. “A place whe
Dorian was right. My father wasn’t sitting idle. He was moving his pieces, fortifying his position before I could strike.But he underestimated me.By morning, I was already on the phone, making calls, pulling in every favor I had left. I wasn’t just going to fight him—I was going to destroy him.Leon watched me from across the kitchen, leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and despite the weight of everything we were up against, he looked completely composed.It irritated me.“Do you ever worry?” I muttered, ending a call and tossing my phone on the counter.Leon smirked. “Constantly.”I gave him a look. “You don’t seem worried.”He set his mug down and closed the distance between us. “Because I don’t show it the way you do.”I exhaled. “I feel like we’re on the edge of something big. Like we’re one wrong move away from losing everything.”Leon tilted his head slightly, studying me. “Margarette.” His
Leon didn’t speak much after that. The drive back was filled with nothing but the hum of the tires on the road and the unspoken weight between us. I wanted to say something—anything—to make him look at me the way he used to. But I knew this wasn’t the time.When we pulled into the underground parking lot of our penthouse, Leon shut off the engine and exhaled through his nose. His hands remained on the wheel, knuckles white.I unbuckled my seatbelt. “Leon—”He turned to me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You just declared war on your father, Margarette.”I swallowed. “You think I don’t know that?”“That’s the problem.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “This isn’t just about exposing his corruption. Harlan Westwood isn’t the kind of man who forgives betrayal. And you just put a target on your back.”I clenched my jaw. “I’ve had a target on my back ever since I decided to take back what’s mine.”Leon let out a humorless laugh. “And you think he’s just going to let you?”I reac
The night was deceptively peaceful. The city lights stretched far beyond the penthouse windows, illuminating a world that had no idea of the chaos brewing beneath the surface.Leon stood by the window, his sleeves rolled up, his jaw clenched in quiet contemplation. He hadn’t said much since our meeting at the club.I knew why.We had allies now, but it wasn’t enough.We needed more.“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours,” I said, stepping closer.Leon’s fingers tightened around the glass in his hand. “There’s a war coming, Margarette. And I don’t know if I can keep you safe through it.”I scoffed. “You’re still underestimating me?”His jaw ticked. “No. I just—” He exhaled sharply, turning to face me. “I can’t lose you.”The words hit harder than they should have.I swallowed, pushing down the sudden rush of emotion. “Then don’t.”Leon studied me for a long moment, his eyes dark and unreadable. Then, before I could react, he pulled me flush against him, his lips capturing mine
By the next morning, the fallout had already begun.Leon and I sat in his penthouse, reviewing the reports pouring in from our contacts. Calloway’s operation had taken a major hit—his Russian allies were furious, his supply lines were compromised, and his reputation was crumbling.But we both knew it wasn’t over.Calloway wouldn’t take this loss lying down.Leon’s fingers drummed against the table, his jaw tight. “He’ll retaliate.”I nodded. “It’s just a matter of when.”Leon’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then answered with a clipped, “What?”A pause.Then his expression darkened.“When?” he demanded.Another pause.“Where is she now?”I sat up straighter, sensing the shift in his energy.Then Leon cursed under his breath and ended the call.“What happened?” I asked.He stood, already grabbing his keys. “Alexa was taken.”My blood ran cold. “By Calloway?”Leon’s jaw clenched. “Looks like it.”I shot up from my seat. “Then let’s go get her.”Alexa’s location was traced to a
The ride back to the penthouse was silent, tension thick in the air. Leon drove with one hand on the wheel, the other gripping his gun. His jaw was locked, his eyes dark.I knew that look.He was planning. Calculating.“Calloway just declared war,” I murmured, watching the city lights blur past the windshield.Leon exhaled sharply. “He did more than that. He underestimated us.”I studied his profile—the controlled rage simmering beneath his calm demeanor. He wasn’t just angry. He was ready to make a move.“We need to hit back,” I said.Leon’s grip tightened. “We will.”His phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then tossed it onto the dashboard. “My father.”“Answer it,” I urged.Leon let out a slow breath before pressing the call button. “Yeah?”His father’s voice was sharp. “I assume you’re still alive.”Leon smirked. “Disappointed?”A pause. Then, “Get to the estate. Now.”The line went dead.Leon exhaled through his nose, tossing his phone onto his lap. “That’s never a good sign.”I lean
Days passed, but the unease in Leon hadn’t faded. He kept himself busy, making calls, arranging meetings, tightening security. I watched him closely, noting the way his shoulders carried an unseen weight. His father’s sudden reappearance had unsettled him more than he let on.One evening, as we lay in bed, I turned to him, brushing my fingers over his chest. “Leon, talk to me.”He exhaled, his arm tightening around me. “It’s nothing.”I propped myself up on my elbow, searching his face. “It’s not nothing. You’re restless. You barely sleep.”His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he would brush me off again. But then, he spoke.“When I was younger, my father used to tell me that in our world, loyalty is everything,” he said, his voice low. “But he also told me that loyalty is never free—it’s bought, traded, or forced.”I frowned. “You think he came back because he wants something from you?”Leon nodded. “My father has never been a man who does things without a reason. If he’s he
The days following Leon’s proposal felt like a dream—soft, golden, and filled with an unshakable sense of peace. I caught myself staring at the ring on my finger more often than I cared to admit, the weight of it both grounding and exhilarating.We didn’t rush into planning the wedding. Instead, we let ourselves be, relishing in this new phase of our relationship. The world outside our home was still chaotic, filled with unfinished battles and uncertain futures, but in this—in us—there was certainty.One evening, as we lay tangled together on the couch, Leon traced patterns on my bare shoulder, his voice a low murmur against my skin. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”I turned my head to look at him, our faces inches apart. “Something I’ve never told anyone?”He nodded. “Something real.”I swallowed, considering. There were so many pieces of me I’d kept hidden—fears, dreams, scars that hadn’t fully healed. But with Leon, there was no need for walls.“I used to be afraid of