The chill of the early night settled over the hospital’s secluded courtyard as Adrian—whose soul was that of Damion—stood with his back against a stone pillar. The corridor beyond was dimly lit by the soft glow of streetlamps, and a cold breeze stirred the fallen leaves around his feet. In that quiet moment, his heart pounded in his chest with a mix of dread and longing. He had just left the tumultuous command post inside, where grief and fury had mingled into a desperate call for answers, and now he found himself alone in the silence of the night.Before him, in the shadowed entrance of the hospital, his grandmother, Catherine Blackwood, emerged slowly. Her silver hair, pulled into a tight bun, framed a face carved with decades of sorrow and wisdom. Her eyes, though aged, shone with a fierce intensity as they met his. She had been waiting, as she always did, for this moment when the truth of their family’s cursed legacy would have to be faced.Catherine’s voice was low and tremulou
Catherine’s eyes softened, and she pressed her hands together. “Then know this, my child: your actions will have consequences far beyond what you can imagine. If you do not succeed, if you fail to break this curse, then both you and Damion will be erased from existence. Our family’s legacy, all that we have built, will vanish like mist in the morning sun. I beg you—think of Carmela. Think of the love she has for you, and the hope she carries that one day you will come back whole.”For a long moment, silence reigned between them as the weight of her words sank deep into his heart. Adrian’s eyes shone with a mixture of determination and sorrow as he finally spoke, his voice low and resolute. “I promise you, Grandmother. I will retrieve the key, no matter the cost. And if, by some cruel twist of fate, I do not return… then please, take care of Carmela. Let her know that I fought until the end, that I loved her with all I had, and that my sacrifice was not in vain.”Catherine’s gaze soft
Carmela’s lip trembled as she shook her head, tears falling freely. “Then why have you chose to hide away and leave me, Damion? Why do you let me see you as that man? I need you to be Damion—the man I loved, the man who was supposed to be my future. If you don’t come back to me, I’ll be left with nothing but the memory of a lie.”A deep pain flashed in his eyes, and for a moment, the two stood locked in a desperate, wordless embrace. The promise of reunion, of healing, hung between them like a fragile thread. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “I wish I could stay, but if I go and never return… then you must take care of Carmela for me. Promise me that you’ll protect yourself, that you’ll keep YOU safe, even if I’m not there.”Catherine, who had listened silently, stepped forward, her voice barely audible yet firm. “He speaks the truth, though his fate remains uncertain. The key is the only hope for our salvation—and for Damion to reclaim what was lost.”At that mo
The rain was coming down in a steady, relentless drizzle, blurring the neon lights of the city into streaks of color as dusk settled over the urban sprawl. In the darkness near a hospital parking lot, Elena Carter sprinted along the slick pavement, her breath ragged and heart pounding in her ears. Her eyes, wide with desperation and cold resolve, scanned the dimly lit street as she heard the distant wail of sirens drawing near. She didn’t dare slow down—not now. Every second mattered.Just as she rounded a corner, a black car screeched to a halt in front of her. The headlights illuminated her path, and without hesitation, Elena dove for the open door. The car’s door slammed shut behind her, and as the vehicle pulled away from the curb, she slumped into the back seat, trying to catch her breath.Inside the car, the familiar low rumble of the engine provided a brief, shaky comfort. Lucas, the driver and a man whose loyalty was as troubled as his secrets, glanced in the rearview mirror
Previously The conversation had ended in a heavy, charged silence as the storm had raged overhead, and Lucas had promised her that they would do everything possible to find Damion. But deep down, he had also cursed the day she decided that ending his life was the solution. He had known the risks, the unthinkable consequences—but he had also known that her ambition might drive her to acts of unimaginable cruelty.“Remember, Elena,” Lucas had whispered as they parted ways that night, “if you succeed in taking him out, you’re not just ending a life—you’re condemning their family to a fate worse than death. And if you fail… then the curse will claim you both.”“They’re all myths and legends and…”Elena had looked at him, her eyes dark with determination, and then had nodded, saying, “I know, Lucas. But sometimes, the only way to end a curse is to break it, even if it means sacrificing everything.”⸻Back to the PresentInside the car, the memory of that night still burned in Lucas’s eyes
Elena’s eyes met his in the mirror, and for a long, charged moment, the two remained silent, each lost in their own inner turmoil. “So what do we do now?” she finally asked, her voice trembling with desperation and uncertainty. “Where do I find him?”Lucas’s response was measured, almost weary. “The hospital. Damion’s body is still in the ICU—if not fully alive, at least it’s there, and we might be able to coax some stability back into him. I have a contact who says there’s a weak but steady signal coming from the west wing.”Elena’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And if I go there… if I end him?”Lucas’s eyes darkened. “If you do that, Elena, you’ll not only lose him forever—you’ll be condemning our entire future. The curse is not something you can simply end with a bullet. It’s a twisted force that binds us all. If you take that step, there will be no coming back.”Her voice broke as she whispered, “I have to try, Lucas. I have to finish what I started.”Lucas shook his head, anger
The air in the hospital was thick with tension. The rhythmic beeping of the machines in Damion’s room was the only sound before the sudden, heavy footsteps of approaching officers shattered the silence.Elena stood over the unconscious Damion, her fingers tightening around the syringe she was about to inject into his IV. Her expression was cold, eyes locked onto his unmoving face.“You’re not waking up again, Damion,” she whispered.Just as she was about to press the needle into his arm—Bang!The door burst open. A flood of officers stormed inside, their weapons drawn.“FREEZE!” one of them commanded, their voices a chorus of authority.Elena’s head snapped up, her face flashing from shock to rage.Then, stepping into the room, standing tall and unwavering, was Carmela. Behind her, more officers poured in, blocking any chance of escape.Elena’s hand trembled. How? How had Carmela gotten here so quickly?Then, Carmela’s sharp voice rang out.“Arrest her.”Elena’s eyes widened.“What?!
The flashing red and blue lights of the police cars flooded the hospital corridor as Elena screamed, her voice raw with rage and desperation. Two officers held her arms tightly as she thrashed against them, her face twisted in fury.“You traitor!” she spat at Lucas, her eyes burning with betrayal as they dragged her away. “You promised to protect me! You said we were in this together!”Lucas stood still, his breathing heavy, his body leaning slightly to the side as blood soaked his shirt. He coughed, his lips parting as if to respond, but no words came.“Take her away,” Carmela ordered, her voice cold, emotionless. The officers nodded, shoving Elena forward as she continued to struggle.“I won’t forget this, Lucas!” Elena’s shriek echoed down the hallway as they forced her out of sight.Lucas exhaled heavily, the pain in his side intensifying as his knees buckled.Then, everything erupted into chaos.“He’s losing too much blood!” one of the nurses cried out as she rushed forward.“Get
Isabelle’s POV The flashing blue and red lights outside my home were almost blinding, their glow casting distorted shadows across the walls. The tension that had held me captive for days still lingered, but Nathan was finally safe. He was asleep upstairs, his tiny body curled up under the blankets where he belonged. Yet, the weight in my chest refused to lift. A uniformed officer stood in front of me, his expression calm but probing. I knew they wanted answers—real ones—but I wasn’t ready to give them. I had my answers. I just couldn’t say them out loud. Damion. “Ms. Everett,” the officer began gently, flipping through his notepad. “I understand this has been an overwhelming situation, but we need to be sure we’re closing this case properly. Are you certain there’s nothing else you’d like to report? No new suspicions about who took your son?” I felt Damion’s presence behind me, lingering by the doorway, tense and silent. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding so loud it
Kaia’s POV The plan was unraveling faster than I had anticipated. When Damion stormed out after returning the boy, I knew things had shifted. I felt it in the way his voice trembled when he’d confronted me. The guilt. The hesitation. He was slipping away. And it was her fault. Isabelle. Always so righteous, so defiant, making him question everything I had carefully constructed. I paced the length of my penthouse, the sound of my heels echoing off the marble floors. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city glittered beneath the night sky, a perfect illusion of peace. But inside? Everything felt like it was closing in. Damion was supposed to be mine. I had done everything. Stood by him when his life crumbled. Cleaned up the mess after Isabelle abandoned him. I had been patient, understanding, even when he had made it clear she was still haunting him. And now? She was back, unraveling him piece by piece. And Walter—Walter was only making it worse. The call
Isabelle’s POV The house felt unbearably quiet without Nathan. Every tick of the clock on the wall seemed louder, each second pressing down on me with suffocating weight. The walls felt closer, the air heavier, the silence almost mocking. I sat curled on the couch, staring blankly at the framed picture of Nathan on the mantel. His bright smile, the way his eyes sparkled with innocence and trust—it was too much. Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. Crying meant giving in to the fear clawing at my chest. It meant accepting the nightmare Walter had pulled me into. And I couldn’t break. Not when my son was out there, scared and alone. The sharp knock on the door jolted me out of my daze. My pulse spiked. I shot to my feet, half stumbling as I rushed toward the door. Please. Let it be the police. Let it be news. Let it be— I swung the door open, and my heart stopped. Damion stood there. And in his arms, cradled carefully, was Nathan. I couldn’t
Kaia’s POV It had all started with a whisper. The first time Damion had mentioned the child, I knew something was wrong. The way his voice caught when he asked about Nathan, the way his eyes lingered on the boy as if searching for a reflection of himself—it was like watching a man unravel in slow motion. And I couldn’t let that happen. Not again. Because I knew, deep down, that if Nathan was Damion’s son, everything I had worked for—the life I’d carefully built with him—would fall apart. So I did what I always did. I found a way to control the narrative. It hadn’t been difficult. Manipulation never was when you understood a man’s vulnerabilities. And Damion’s greatest vulnerability was his desperate need for closure. I hadn’t even needed to convince him. “It’s the only way,” I had whispered to him weeks ago, the night we’d sat in his study, the tension thick between us. “If she won’t tell you the truth, we have to find it ourselves.” And he’d agreed. But now, a
Isabelle’s POV The photograph trembled in my hands. Nathan—my sweet boy—blindfolded, vulnerable, and so far out of reach. The handwritten message beneath his image echoed in my mind. “You were warned. Now listen.” A cold knot twisted in my stomach. Walter. This was him. It had to be. I felt Damion’s presence behind me before I heard him speak. His voice was low, dangerous. “Let me see it.” I handed him the photograph with shaky fingers, my breath shallow. The moment his eyes scanned the image, his entire body stiffened. His jaw clenched so tightly I could hear his teeth grinding. The hand holding the photo curled into a fist, crumpling the paper slightly as his gaze darkened with rage. “Damion,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “What do we do? He’s my son. Our son—” “What?!” He turned sharply, his eyes burning with something unreadable. “Nathan is my son?!” I nodded nervously. I couldn’t lie to him anymore. It was for the best. He had to know the truth. If he’s
Isabelle’s POV The sound of shattering glass ripped through the house like a gunshot. “Nathan!” My heart seized, and without thinking, I bolted toward the kitchen. Damion was right behind me, his voice sharp. “Stay behind me, Isabelle!” I didn’t listen. All I could think about was my son—my baby. The kitchen window was broken, shards of glass glittering across the floor, but it was the open back door that made my blood run cold. The wind howled through it, carrying the sound of tires screeching in the distance. He was gone. Nathan. I stumbled forward, my breath catching painfully in my chest. “Nathan! Nathan, where are you?!” Silence. The kind of silence that leaves a void, the kind that makes you realize something precious has been stolen from you. Damion’s hands caught my shoulders, pulling me back as I shook uncontrollably. “Isabelle—stop! Stop! He’s not here!” His voice was rough but controlled, his grip anchoring me as I felt like I was falling apart.
Isabelle’s POV I stared at the message on my phone, the cold words burning into my mind. “You’re running out of time. Leave, or face the consequences.” Walter. I didn’t need proof. His fingerprints were all over this. The sudden sabotage of my contracts, the threatening text—it was his way of reminding me that I was nothing to him. That I was a problem he needed to erase. But the part that rattled me most wasn’t the threat itself. It was the fact that Walter knew I wouldn’t leave. Not this time. I set my phone down, inhaling deeply, fighting to steady my pulse. I wouldn’t be bullied. I wouldn’t let this man, or anyone else, push me out of my life. I had built everything from scratch. My business. My reputation. My home. But as I sat there, staring into the dimly lit living room, the ache in my chest was undeniable. Because I hadn’t just built this life for myself. I had built it for Nathan. The sound of his soft footsteps broke my spiral. “Mommy?” His sleep
Isabelle’s POV The morning came with a sense of foreboding I couldn’t shake. I’d barely slept, my thoughts consumed by Walter Ryder’s warning and the weight of his veiled threat. It wasn’t just his words that unsettled me—it was the way he delivered them. Calm. Cold. Unrelenting. Nathan’s laughter floated from the living room as I sipped my coffee, his innocent joy a stark contrast to the storm brewing in my mind. I glanced at my phone, the unread messages from Brian a reminder that my life wasn’t just a mess—it was a tangled web, and I was caught in the center of it. Stephanie’s call came just as I was about to head to the office. Her voice was rushed, almost panicked. “Miss Everett, we have a situation.” I gripped the phone tighter. “What is it?” “Three of our major clients have pulled out of their contracts this morning,” she said, her voice trembling. “No explanation. Just… gone.” The room tilted slightly, but I forced myself to stay calm. “All at once?” “Yes,” s
Isabelle’s POV Walter Ryder was a man whose presence lingered long after he left a room. Even now, as I sat in my office staring blankly at the door he had walked through, I could feel his cold, calculating gaze bearing down on me. His warning replayed in my mind, his words like shards of ice cutting through my resolve. “Take your son and disappear before Damion gets too close.” It wasn’t a suggestion—it was a threat. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Walter Ryder had always been a puppet master, pulling strings from the shadows, and I wasn’t naïve enough to think his visit was just a courtesy call. He wanted me gone. He always had. But this time, I wasn’t running. Later that afternoon, I sat in my living room with Nathan, his laughter filling the space as he played with his toy cars. Watching him, I felt a pang of guilt. His innocence was a stark contrast to the storm brewing around us, and I hated that he was caught in the middle of it. “Mommy,” he