The days at the beach house were fleeting, but they imprinted themselves onto my soul like ink on paper—permanent, unshakable.Leon and I spent our time wrapped in each other, the world outside forgotten. We cooked together, danced in the kitchen barefoot, made love under the moonlight, and talked about everything we had never had the chance to say before.One evening, after a long walk along the shore, we sat on the wooden deck of the house, our legs tangled beneath a thick blanket. The waves hummed in the background, their rhythm as steady as the beating of my heart.Leon turned to me, his fingers tracing circles on my thigh. “What do you want the future to look like, Margarette?”I leaned my head against his shoulder. “This. Just more of this.”He smiled, kissing the top of my head. “No big dreams? No wild ambitions?”I laughed softly. “I think I’ve spent so much of my life chasing things—justice, revenge, security. And now, all I want is peace.”His hand found mine beneath the bla
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
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 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
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 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
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
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
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