(Leon’s POV)The drive home was a blur of headlights and darkened streets. The city felt empty, a hollow shell reflecting my own unease. By the time I parked outside the house, the weight of my promise to Lucas and Margarette pressed harder against my chest.As I stepped inside, Margarette was waiting for me in the living room, pacing nervously. The sight of her brought a pang of guilt—I knew she was just as worried, just as desperate.“Leon,” she said, rushing over to me. “Did something happen? Did the detective say anything?”I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. “They’re watching Kent. They found some suspicious financial activity but nothing solid enough to pin him down.”Her expression hardened, her fists clenching at her sides. “That man... he’s a monster. Lucas is out there, scared, because of him.”I stepped closer, placing my hands gently on her shoulders. “I know. And I won’t stop until we bring him home.”Margarette’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “What if... what
The dimly lit warehouse loomed before me, its windows shattered and walls streaked with graffiti. My contact, Laurent, waited near the entrance, his leather jacket blending into the shadows."You came alone?" he asked, glancing over my shoulder."Just like you said," I replied. "What do you have for me?"Laurent handed me a manila folder. "Details on one of Kent's suspected hideouts. I've cross-checked the locations with recent activities from his known associates. It’s not a guarantee, but it’s a strong lead."I opened the folder and studied the address. My chest tightened. "This is where they’re holding Lucas?"Laurent shrugged. "If he’s there, you’ll find out soon enough. But Leon, this isn’t a game. These people are dangerous.""I know exactly what they are," I said, turning on my heel.Armed with determination and the address, I made my way to an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city. The place was eerily quiet, with only the rustling of leaves and distant sounds of tra
MARGARETTE’S POVThe moment I saw Leon emerge from the warehouse with Lucas in his arms, I couldn’t hold back the tears. Relief, fear, and overwhelming gratitude surged through me all at once. My legs moved on their own, carrying me toward them as fast as I could.“Lucas!” I cried, my voice cracking with emotion.His small arms reached out for me as soon as I got close enough. Leon handed him to me gently, his own face etched with exhaustion and pain.“Mommy!” Lucas sobbed, burying his face in my neck. His little body trembled, his fingers clutching at my shirt like a lifeline.“I’m here, baby,” I whispered, holding him tightly. “You’re safe now. Mommy and Daddy are here. No one will hurt you again.”I kissed the top of his head, feeling the dampness of his tears against my skin. My heart shattered as I felt how tightly he clung to me, his fear evident in every small movement.Leon’s hand rested on my back, grounding me. “He’s okay now,” he said softly, though his voice held a tremor
A few days later, Leon received a tip from one of his investigators. They had uncovered a series of encrypted messages between Kent and an unknown contact, detailing payments and plans that aligned with Lucas’s kidnapping.“This is it,” Leon said, his voice steely as he showed me the evidence.My stomach churned as I read the messages. “So, what happens now?”“I hand this over to the authorities,” Leon said, his tone firm. “But I’m not stopping there. Kent needs to know that he messed with the wrong family.”I placed a hand on his arm. “Leon, I want justice too, but we have to be careful. Lucas needs us to be here for him.”Leon’s eyes softened, and he pulled me into a hug. “I know. I’ll make sure we’re protected. I promise.”That night, as Lucas slept peacefully for the first time since the ordeal, Leon and I sat together, watching over him.“We’ll get through this,” I whispered, leaning into Leon.He wrapped an arm around me, his gaze fixed on Lucas. “We will. And we’ll make sure he
That evening, after Lucas had gone to bed, Leon and I sat in the living room. The soft hum of the baby monitor was the only sound in the room.“Today was a good day,” Leon said, his voice quiet but hopeful.I nodded, leaning against him. “It’s a start. Seeing him smile again… it reminded me that we’re not losing him completely.”Leon’s arm wrapped around me, pulling me close. “We won’t lose him, Margarette. He’s strong, just like his mom.”I gave a small laugh, wiping away a tear. “And his dad.”Leon kissed the top of my head. “We’ll get through this. No matter how long it takes, we’ll get our boy back.”Just as we were beginning to settle into this new rhythm, the phone rang late one evening. It was one of the detectives working on Lucas’s case.“We’ve made progress,” the detective said. “We’ve located a potential lead on the kidnappers’ whereabouts. It might be connected to Kent’s operation.”My heart skipped a beat. “Do you have proof?”“Not yet, but we’re closing in. We’ll need Le
The next few weeks felt like a delicate balancing act. Every decision we made revolved around Lucas—his routines, his therapy sessions, and his healing process. Despite the difficulties, Leon and I were committed to staying strong for him.One afternoon, during one of Lucas’s therapy sessions, Dr. Marlow invited Leon and me to join him. It was a special session meant to bridge the gap between Lucas’s inner fears and his trust in us as his parents.Lucas sat on a small couch, clutching his favorite stuffed animal. He looked up at me with wide, uncertain eyes as Dr. Marlow guided us through an activity.“Lucas,” she said gently, “can you show Mommy and Daddy how you feel when you think about the scary day?”Lucas hesitated, then slowly drew a picture on a piece of paper. It was a simple but heartbreaking image—a stick figure of a small boy surrounded by dark shadows.I felt my chest tighten as I knelt beside him. “That must have been really scary, sweetheart,” I said softly, my voice tr
It was a quiet afternoon, the kind of day that seemed to stretch endlessly as Leon and I watched over Lucas. He was resting in the living room, his favorite blanket wrapped tightly around him as he sat on the couch, flipping aimlessly through a picture book. His usual enthusiasm was still absent, and every little thing he did reminded me of how much he had endured.The doorbell rang, cutting through the silence. I glanced at Leon, who nodded and went to answer it. A moment later, Aunt Lou stepped in, her warm smile a welcome sight.But she wasn’t alone.Standing beside her was a little boy, probably around Lucas’s age. He had a neatly combed head of dark curls, bright eyes, and a shy smile. He clutched a small gift bag in one hand and looked up at me with an almost exaggerated politeness.“Hello, Aunt Margarette,” he said, his voice clear and respectful. “I’m Tomas. May I please see Lucas?”I blinked in surprise, glancing at Aunt Lou for an explanation.“Tomas is Lucas’s best friend f
The days that followed Aunt Lou’s visit brought a glimmer of hope. Lucas seemed to find solace in Tomas’s presence, and the change in him was undeniable. The dark cloud of fear that had hung over him was slowly lifting, replaced by moments of joy that warmed my heart.Each time Tomas visited, Lucas’s laughter grew louder, his smiles brighter. They would sit for hours, coloring, building block towers, and sharing secrets only they could understand. Tomas had a way of grounding Lucas, reminding him of simpler, happier times before everything changed.One evening, as the boys built a fort in the living room, I found myself leaning against the doorway, watching them with a mix of awe and gratitude. “He looks so much happier,” I murmured to Leon, who had come up behind me.Leon wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Tomas is good for him. It’s like he’s helping Lucas remember how to just be a kid again.”After weeks of improvement, Leon and I decided it was time to take another step forward—
I stood barefoot on the damp sand, the wind weaving through my hair like invisible fingers, the sea humming a lullaby that had become the heartbeat of our peaceful island life. Leon stood beside me, his hand resting on the curve of my growing belly. It had become our evening ritual, watching the sunset together, our two kids—Isla and Theo—laughing somewhere behind us, chasing each other with sticks and seashells.I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the sound of the waves steady my heart. This place—this little paradise Leon bought for our third child—had become more than a retreat. It was a dream he turned into a promise. But even dreams, I had come to learn, were fragile."She kicked again," I said softly.Leon turned, his eyes lighting up. He dropped to his knees and pressed his ear against my belly. "Hey, little one. You trying to tell us something?"I laughed, running my fingers through his hair. We had built a world here—away from pain, betrayal, and danger. For nearly a year,
The next twenty-four hours unfolded like a twisted thriller novel—one where every moment felt more surreal than the last.Leon doubled the patrols and locked down the main house with a level of precision that made me feel both safe and deeply unsettled. We weren’t just protecting Angela and Riley anymore; we were protecting our entire family, our children, and the unborn life growing inside me. I absentmindedly touched my belly throughout the day—our third child, already making their presence known in subtle kicks and flutters.Leon noticed, of course. He always noticed.“You okay?” he asked quietly that afternoon, his arm curling protectively around my waist as we stood by the nursery window, watching Isla and the twins playing with their nannies in the garden below.“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I want to be. I should be. But Victoria… she’s like a shadow. I can feel her even when she’s not there.”Leon didn’t speak right away. Instead, he pressed a kiss to my temple and rested his h
Days passed in a blur of uncertainty. Leon worked late into the night, organizing security measures, making phone calls. He reached out to his contacts in Anacortes, hoping to get a lead on the source of the letter. Meanwhile, I tried to keep things normal for the children. I kept the island life as idyllic as possible, determined not to let the shadow of the unknown consume us completely.But the truth was, I couldn’t ignore it. Not anymore.It wasn’t just Riley and Angela we had to worry about—it was us, too. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far worse.The morning the helicopter arrived, I knew something had changed.Leon had arranged for a private security team to monitor the island, just in case. The sound of the helicopter’s blades cutting through the air had become an all-too-familiar noise. But this time, when it landed, it wasn’t just the usual security team.It was Riley and Angela.And they didn’t look like the carefree couple th
The days that followed Victoria’s arrest felt like exhaling after holding our breath for far too long. Riley and Angela stayed on the island for a while longer, though it was clear they needed to forge a new chapter of their own. Angela had begun smiling again, truly smiling—without fear shadowing her eyes. Riley, too, softened. He built sandcastles with Liam and Lila, cooked with Leon, and talked with me late into the evening, often about forgiveness and starting over.And just like that, they left. Quietly, one morning, before the sun rose. A handwritten note on the kitchen table read:"Thank you for giving us this time, this place, and this chance to be free again. We’ll never forget it. Love, Riley & Angela."I folded the note and placed it in the drawer beside my bedside table, next to the ultrasound photo of our third child.Yes, our third. I was five months along by then—round and glowing, Leon would say, with that teasing smirk of his. Truthfully, I felt more like a sleepy, wa
One Month LaterPeace. Real, actual peace.It settled on our shoulders like a soft shawl, wrapping us in warmth we’d long forgotten existed. Riley and Angela decided to stay on the island for a few more weeks to heal, but soon they were talking about moving to a quieter part of Europe to start fresh. With Victoria behind bars and no more shadows to run from, they deserved that clean slate.As for us… we were starting to dream again.Life slowed into soft routines. Mornings began with giggles from Liam and Lila as they climbed into bed with us, demanding pancake breakfasts and treasure hunts on the beach. Isla—our tiny, perfect miracle—was thriving, always cooing and gurgling, her smile lighting up the room.And then came the moment.I was standing in the garden behind the cottage, barefoot on the grass, Isla napping in a basket under the shade while the twins dug in the sand nearby. Leon came out, holding something behind his back.“Close your eyes,” he said, grinning.I rolled mine a
Life on our secluded island had settled into a serene rhythm. Leon and I spent our days basking in the joy of raising our three children, the twins—Liam and Lila—and our newborn, Isla. The island, a paradise of golden sands and lush greenery, had become our sanctuary, far removed from the chaos of our past lives.One tranquil afternoon, as I lounged on the veranda watching the twins play by the shore, a distant speck on the horizon caught my eye. Squinting against the sun's glare, I realized it was a small boat, rowing frantically toward our island. My heart quickened. Visitors were unheard of here. Leon, noticing my unease, emerged from the house and followed my gaze.The boat drew closer, revealing two figures aboard. As they reached the shallows, a man leaped out, pulling the vessel onto the sand. He turned toward us, and recognition struck me like a bolt."Riley?" I called out, disbelief evident in my voice.Riley's face was etched with exhaustion and fear. Beside him, a woman
The next few days were filled with packing and preparations for the move. The kids were excited about the idea of living in a new place, and their enthusiasm helped ease some of my doubts. I watched them run around the house, laughing, playing, as Leon and I sorted through our things. They were so innocent, so unaware of the complexities of the world we lived in. I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.By the time we were ready to leave, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. It wasn’t about abandoning anyone—it was about creating a future for us, a future where we could heal, grow, and be free from the shadows of our past.The private jet that Leon had arranged for us was waiting, and the twins couldn’t contain their excitement as we boarded. The journey felt surreal, like something out of a dream. We were starting over, building a new life, and for the first time in a long while, I felt hopeful.When we finally arrived on the island, it exceeded all our expectations.
We visited Havenmoor two weeks later.The air was different there—salt-kissed and vibrant. The island’s green heart stretched wide with wild palms and flowering trees. A gentle wind rustled the leaves as we stepped onto the sand. Liana and Mateo were already running toward the waves, laughing as the tide splashed their feet.Leon held my hand as we walked up a narrow path toward the bluff where our future home would be built.“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, unable to hide my awe.“It’s yours,” he said. “Ours.”A local contractor met us at the site, showing us the blueprints. I could already picture it—Liana perched at the window seat with a book, Mateo in the garden chasing butterflies, the sound of waves echoing through our open windows.“This room will be for the baby,” Leon said, his voice lower now, reverent. “Facing east, so the sunlight comes in every morning.”I didn’t speak for a moment. Instead, I turned to him, tears threatening to spill. “You thought of everything.”He brush
The smell of cinnamon and warm bread wafted through the air as I stood in the sunlit kitchen, stirring a pot of soup with one hand and resting the other protectively over my growing belly. Outside the window, the sound of laughter echoed from the garden where Leon chased after our two children—Emilia, now three, and our spirited one-year-old, Julian. Their giggles bounced off the walls like music.Peace.For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I could breathe.It had been a year since Elise’s arc ended—since we put an end to the nightmare that stole my parents and nearly took my life. The trial that followed felt like a bad dream, and with Dorian’s testimony and the evidence from my father’s study, Elise’s crimes—along with her father's legacy of corruption—were buried with their conviction.Leon and I moved on. We rebuilt our lives, one moment, one breath at a time.And now, as I stirred soup with the ease of a mother content in her routine, I was preparing to share somethin