The moment Elise Grant’s fingers touched mine, I knew I had her attention. She was a woman who played in circles of power, who measured every interaction with precision. A single misstep could cost her everything.I held onto her hand for just a fraction longer than necessary, letting the weight of my words settle between us. Then, with a small, knowing smile, I withdrew, lifting my champagne flute to my lips.“Margarette,” Elise repeated, as if testing how my name felt on her tongue. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of you before.”I chuckled softly. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”Elise tilted her head, intrigued but guarded. “And what exactly do you do, Margarette?”I swirled the champagne in my glass, watching the golden bubbles rise to the surface. “I help people see things they’ve overlooked.” I lifted my eyes to hers. “Or things they’ve been kept from seeing.”Her smile didn’t waver, but something in her gaze sharpened. “That sounds dangerously close to a threat.”“Not a threat.” I to
The wind whipped through my hair as I watched Elise disappear into the night. A thrill ran through me, a mix of victory and anticipation. She had taken the bait, but we weren’t in the clear yet. Not by a long shot.Leon and Dorian flanked me, their expressions unreadable. The three of us stood in silence for a beat, the ocean waves crashing against the wooden pier below us.“She’s scared,” Dorian finally muttered, lighting a cigarette. The flame illuminated his sharp features for a moment before fading into the night. “Which is good. Fear makes people predictable.”Leon’s gaze remained fixed on the path Elise had taken. His jaw clenched, his thoughts miles ahead of us. “Fear also makes people desperate.”I turned to him. “You think she’ll run to her father?”He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifted his stance, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Not immediately. She’s smart enough to know that if she tips him off too soon, she’s collateral damage.”I nodded. “The
Elise Grant was a woman born into privilege, but privilege came with its own kind of chains. She had spent her life learning how to play the game, but now she was realizing that the rules had changed—and I was the one rewriting them.I watched her disappear into the fog, but I knew she wouldn't be able to walk away from this. Not entirely. People like Elise didn’t just sit back and watch their world collapse—they fought, even when they didn’t know who the real enemy was yet.Leon let out a quiet sigh, his fingers flexing against his side. "She’s going to struggle with this."Dorian smirked. "Good. People make the best decisions when they think they don’t have any other choice."I pulled my coat tighter around me. The air was damp, the salty ocean breeze mixing with the lingering scent of gasoline from the fishing boats docked nearby. "She’s going to reach out again soon."Leon’s gaze flicked to me. "How can you be so sure?""Because she’s smart," I said simply. "And because she’s terr
Nathan Calloway had always exuded a quiet menace, the kind that made people instinctively lower their gaze and step aside. But today, he didn’t bother with subtlety. He stood in my path like a hunter savoring his victory, his dark suit crisp, his expression one of smug satisfaction.“Margarette,” he said smoothly, like we were old friends. “Going somewhere?”I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself to keep my expression neutral. My heart was pounding, but I couldn’t let him see my fear.“I was just leaving,” I said, stepping sideways.He moved with me, blocking my way. Behind him, two of his men stood by the black car, watching. Waiting.“Now, now,” Nathan murmured, tilting his head. “Let’s not make this difficult. We both know how this ends.”A cold rush of adrenaline flooded my veins. I could fight. I could run. But neither would get me far.Leon’s voice came through my earpiece, low and urgent. “Margarette, I’m coming. Stall.”I swallowed. “If you know everything, why are yo
Nathan Calloway’s face twisted with rage as he realized the game was over. His men were dropping like flies, either taken down by Dorian’s gunfire or surrendering to the federal agents swarming the street. The blue and red flashes of FBI vehicles painted the alley in sharp, jagged streaks of light.He was cornered.I could see it in his stance—the way his fingers twitched toward his gun, his mind calculating, scrambling for a way out.There wasn’t one.Leon stood beside me, his gun still raised, but his grip relaxed. He had already decided Nathan wasn’t worth another bullet.But I wasn’t so sure.“Looks like you’re out of moves,” I said, stepping forward.Nathan’s sharp gaze cut to me, and for a moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes. Not fear. Not regret.Amusement.“You think this is over?” he muttered, shaking his head. Then, slowly, he smiled.A slow, deliberate, knowing smile.The kind that made my stomach clench.Then he turned to Elise.“Elise,” he said smoothly, like we w
I woke up to the sound of rain still pattering against the windows. The weight of the blankets was warm, comforting, but it was the presence beside me that truly made me hesitate before opening my eyes.Leon.His arm was draped over my waist, his body pressed against mine as if he belonged there—as if he had always belonged there. I could feel his steady breaths against the back of my neck, the rise and fall of his chest in sync with mine.Last night hadn't been a dream.I swallowed, my heart hammering against my ribs.No more running.Leon stirred behind me, shifting slightly before his arm tightened, pulling me closer. His voice was thick with sleep when he murmured, “You’re awake.”I nodded, but didn’t turn to face him. “Yeah.”A pause. Then, his fingers brushed over my wrist, tracing absent patterns against my skin. “Regrets?”I exhaled slowly. “No.”Another pause.“But I’m terrified.”Leon shifted then, pushing up on one elbow. I felt his gaze on me before I finally turned to mee
The ride home from the gala was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Leon’s hand rested on my thigh, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against my skin. It was grounding, a silent reassurance that he was here—that he wasn’t going anywhere.Still, my mind spun.Elise’s warning lingered. If her father suspected something, it meant our window of opportunity was closing.Leon’s voice broke through my thoughts. “You’re thinking too much.”I turned to find him watching me, his eyes dark in the dim car.I sighed. “I can’t help it.”His fingers tightened slightly, his grip firm but gentle. “We’ll figure it out.”I swallowed hard, nodding. “I know.”Silence settled between us again, but this time, it was different. Charged.Maybe it was the adrenaline from the gala, or maybe it was just the way Leon looked at me—like he could see straight through the walls I tried so hard to keep up.By the time we got home, I felt like I was carrying too much inside me—too many thoughts, too many emotions.And L
Nathan’s presence sent a wave of cold dread through my veins, but I didn’t let it show.Elise stiffened beside me, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass. She had been careful, meticulous. But somehow, Nathan had still found out.I kept my voice even. “Nathan. You surprised me.”His lips curled into a smirk. “Did I?”Leon’s voice was sharp in my earpiece. “Margarette, if you don’t walk out of there in the next thirty seconds, I’m coming in.”I ignored him.Instead, I tilted my head, keeping my expression carefully neutral. “We were just having a conversation.”Nathan’s gaze flicked to Elise. “I’m sure you were.”Elise swallowed hard but didn’t look away. “Nathan, don’t—”“Don’t what?” He stepped further into the room, his posture relaxed but his presence suffocating. “Don’t remind you where your loyalty should lie?”The tension crackled like static electricity.I knew I had two options: play innocent or go on the offensive.I chose the latter.“You’re worried,” I sai
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
The world came back into focus slowly, like a dim light piercing through heavy fog. My ears rang, my limbs felt heavy, and my mind was swimming. But Leon’s voice cut through it all, rough and frantic.“Margarette. Margarette, stay with me!”Pain pulsed through my shoulder as I blinked, registering the warm, sticky sensation of blood soaking through my blouse. But I was alive. Alive.“Elise,” I rasped.Leon’s jaw was tight as he leaned over me, his eyes frantic with emotion. “She’s gone. Dorian chased after her. You're going to be okay. Just hang in there.”“I’m fine,” I murmured, trying to sit up.Leon gently pushed me back. “No. You're not fine. You were shot, Margarette.”“I’ve been through worse,” I said, forcing a smile, though it came out as more of a grimace. "We need to finish this. No more running."He looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he nodded and helped me up, careful not to jar my shoulder.We moved together down the hallway. Every step hurt, but adrenaline dull
The next time I woke, I was in an unfamiliar room.Soft, golden light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the walls. The air smelled of antiseptic and fresh linen. My body ached, a dull, pulsing pain radiating from my side, but the sharp agony from before had dulled to something more manageable.I turned my head slightly and found Leon sitting in a chair beside the bed. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped together, as if he’d been keeping vigil for hours. His shirt was wrinkled, stained with my blood. His face was unreadable, but his eyes—dark and stormy—held an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.“You’re awake.” His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the relief in it.I swallowed, my throat dry. “Where are we?”“A safe house,” Leon answered, leaning forward. “One of mine. Dorian’s securing the perimeter. You needed medical attention, but a hospital wasn’t an option. Too risky.”I nodded slowly, my mind still catching up. The last
Gunfire tore through the air, glass raining down around us as we hit the ground. The sharp sound of bullets striking wood and metal sent my heart into a frantic rhythm. Leon grabbed me, shielding my body as we crawled behind the heavy oak desk.“Dorian?” Leon’s voice was sharp, controlled despite the chaos.“I’m fine,” Dorian called from behind a toppled chair. He moved fast, drawing his gun and firing two precise shots toward the broken windows. A pained grunt told us he had hit his mark.Vincent, the smug bastard, was still in his chair, completely unbothered by the attack.“This is cute,” he mused, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “But you should know by now—I never play fair.”Leon turned his gun on him. “Call them off.”Vincent only smiled.I gritted my teeth. “Damn it, Vincent, this isn’t a game! Who the hell is shooting at us?”The door burst open, and three armed men stormed in.Dorian moved first. He lunged at the closest attacker, his blade flashing in the dim light. The m
Darkness swallowed me whole.For a moment, I thought I was dead. The gunshot still rang in my ears, deafening, all-consuming. But then, pain—sharp and searing—bloomed along my side, pulling me back from the abyss. My breath came in ragged gasps as my knees buckled, and I felt myself falling.Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground.“Margarette!” Leon’s voice was raw with panic. His hands pressed against my wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. The warmth of my own blood seeped through my clothes, sticky against my skin. Dorian fired, his shot echoing through the cavernous estate.Elise let out a sharp cry, staggering back. But even as she bled, her cruel smile remained. “Not bad,” she whispered, clutching her shoulder where Dorian’s bullet had struck her. “But not enough.”Leon lifted me, his grip firm but desperate. “We need to move. Now.”“No,” I gritted out, fighting through the pain. “We finish this.”Dorian cursed. “Are you insane? You’re bleeding out!”I forced myself to