(Emily’s POV).“It’s Christopher, Love. We can call him Chris or Christo.” Mike said, his voice a mix of pride and disbelief as he held our baby in his arms. I couldn’t take my eyes off the tiny face peering up at us, his little mouth forming a soft O, as if he was ready to take on the world.That day, our son was born. The moment felt surreal, as though I was watching a scene unfold in a movie. Mike leaned down, kissing my forehead, and then my lips, a gentle whisper of gratitude spilling from his mouth. “Thank you for giving birth to Christopher.” Tears welled in my eyes, the emotions of the past hours crashing over me like waves. “I love you both so much,” I whispered, my voice trembling. It was a love I never knew could exist, so raw and overwhelming that it filled every corner of my heart.Mike watched me closely, his gaze tender yet filled with a mixture of awe and relief. He had been my rock through the storm of labor, his hands gripping mine as I fought through each wave
(Emily’s POV).“I finally can go home and bring our baby,” I said, my voice soft but filled with relief. “I feel so bored at the hospital.”Mike’s eyes, full of warmth and concern, never left my face. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear with that gentle touch of his that always seemed to ground me. “Are you really okay?” His voice was laced with worry, a slight furrow appearing between his brows. He didn’t just ask because it was polite—he asked because he *needed* to know.I smiled, my heart swelling at the tenderness in his gaze. “Yes, Mike, I’m really okay. Christopher and I are more than ready to go home.”Even though I said the words, I could still see the lingering doubt in his eyes. He had been so protective, so attentive, ever since Christopher arrived. Every second, every small movement of mine, he was there, watching, making sure I didn’t lift a finger more than necessary. While I appreciated it more than he knew, sometimes it was a little overwhelmin
(Emily’s POV)."You're okay if I stay here for a while?"That was Laura's question as she leaned over the changing table, showing me how to properly secure the diaper around Christopher. Her hands moved with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her so naturally teaching me something that, just days ago, felt so intimidating.“Of course,” I replied with a soft laugh, glancing up from my son’s tiny form. “You’ve been a lifesaver. But... What about my dad? Who’s going to take care of him if you’re not around?” I asked with a teasing tone, giving her a playful nudge. Laura blushed immediately, her cheeks turning a delicate pink that made me chuckle under my breath. She was always so graceful, so composed, but the moment I brought up my father, she would get flustered. And I loved every second of it.“Emily…” she sighed, shaking her head but unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Your father i
(Emily’s POV).“Do you want me to help you?” I asked Laura as I stepped into the kitchen, the smell of garlic and herbs filling the air. She was moving around gracefully, her sleeves rolled up, hands busy chopping vegetables, and the stovetop bubbling with what I assumed was her signature sauce.Laura turned her head, giving me that warm, knowing smile. "Are you sure Mike would be okay with that?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I thought he didn't allow you to get tired with all these activities."I sighed softly, leaning against the counter for a moment. “He’s protective, yes… a little too protective sometimes,” I admitted with a slight shake of my head. "But cooking? It’s hardly abnormal. I’ve missed being in the kitchen. I miss cooking for Mike.”Laura chuckled, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “Well, if you’re that eager to help, I won’t stop you.” She stepped aside slightly, gesturing to the cutting board. “Why don’t you chop the carrots? Yo
(Emily’s POV). “Do you want me to help you?” I asked Laura as I stepped into the kitchen, the smell of garlic and herbs filling the air. She was moving around gracefully, her sleeves rolled up, hands busy chopping vegetables, and the stovetop bubbling with what I assumed was her signature sauce. Laura turned her head, giving me that warm, knowing smile. "Are you sure Mike would be okay with that?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I thought he didn't allow you to get tired with all these activities." I sighed softly, leaning against the counter for a moment. “He’s protective, yes… a little too protective sometimes,” I admitted with a slight shake of my head. "But cooking? It’s hardly abnormal. I’ve missed being in the kitchen. I miss cooking for Mike.” Laura chuckled, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “Well, if you’re that eager to help, I won’t stop you.” She stepped aside slightly, gesturing to the cutting board. “Why don’t you chop
(Emily’s POV)."Hi, I cooked lunch for you. Is it okay if I come to your office?" I asked, my voice light as I held the phone to my ear. I had just finished packing the lunch into the food box, ensuring everything was neatly organized. Mike had been so busy lately that we barely had time for lunch together, and it might brighten his day if I surprised him. But still, I wanted to make sure he didn’t mind me dropping by.On the other end, I heard his deep chuckle, the sound instantly warming my heart. “Of course it’s okay,” Mike said, his voice filled with affection. “I’d be more than happy if you came over. I’ve missed having lunch with you.”A smile crept across my face at his words. “I’ll come over, then,” I said, already feeling the excitement build inside me. “I’ll have the driver take me. Should I bring Christopher along, or do you want me all to yourself?”Mike laughed again, a low, soothing sound. “As much as I love our son, leave him with the staff today. You’re still recover
(Mike’s POV).“Why are you here? Why can you—” Emily’s voice trembled, her question left unfinished as she stood frozen in shock, her wide eyes fixed on the figure in the doorway. Ben.The air seemed to thicken, a heavy silence falling over the room. I could feel the shift in Emily's body beside me, her hand gripping mine tightly as cold sweat beaded on her brow. I stepped in front of her instinctively, pulling her closer to my side. My chest tightened at the sight of him, anger swirling within me like a storm waiting to break loose."Who released you from prison?" I demanded, my voice sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. Ben, my nephew—the man who had nearly destroyed Emily with his lies, his betrayal—stood there in front of us as if it were nothing as if the past hadn’t happened.He had no right to be here.Ben’s face was blank, expressionless, his eyes void of the usual arrogance I had always despised. He didn’t answer my question immediately. Instead, he took a step
(Mike’s POV)."Who the hell are you? Get off me!" Ellen's voice pierced through the walls, full of desperation and fury. I stood just outside the door, hearing her screams as she fought against the men I had sent to retrieve her. She must have been struggling hard, like a cornered animal, thrashing wildly. Ellen had no idea that it had been me behind all this. But she would soon find out.I’d instructed my men to bring her in—quietly, efficiently, no unnecessary attention. I wanted to confront her face-to-face, one-on-one. And it wasn’t until they caught her, wrestling her into submission, that Ellen realized the gravity of the situation.The truth was, Ellen thought she could get away with anything. Meddling in my family’s affairs, making reckless decisions that endangered everything I cared about. She’d underestimated me. She always did.As I approached the door, wearing black leather gloves I’d slipped on in preparation for this meeting, I braced myself. If things got rough, I wa