Flashback – One Year AgoThe city skyline stretched endlessly in front of him, neon lights blinking against the dark canvas of the night. Lucas leaned against the balcony railing of the upscale lounge, his sharp eyes scanning the bustling crowd below.He had just returned to the city after years abroad, building his own fortune in silence, away from the suffocating expectations that came with his last name.He had no plans of getting tangled in old affairs.But then—“Elena.”She turned at the sound of her name, her red lips curling into a knowing smile the moment she saw him.“Well, well,” she purred, stepping closer. “Look who decided to crawl back.”Lucas chuckled, swirling the whiskey in his glass before taking a slow sip. “Miss me?”Elena tilted her head, her dark eyes glittering with mischief. “Should I have?”He smirked. “Depends.”She hummed, stepping beside him, resting her arms against the railing. “It’s been years, Lucas. I assumed you disappeared for good.”Lucas exhaled,
Lucas’s car screeched to a halt outside Elena’s house. Rushing quickly. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he exhaled sharply, trying to steady his thoughts.Elena had sounded frantic on the phone—terrified in a way he had never heard before. And that alone unsettled him.He had known Elena for years. She was cunning, manipulative, and never the type to lose her composure.For her to be this panicked… something had gone terribly wrong. Really wrong. Shoving open the door, he strode toward the entrance, barely knocking before pushing inside.The house was eerily silent.Then—“Lucas.”Her voice was barely a whisper.His gaze snapped to the living room, where she stood frozen, her face pale.And at her feet—Blood.His breath hitched for half a second before his eyes trailed to the man lying motionless on the shattered remains of the coffee table.He moved before his thoughts could catch up, kneeling beside the body and pressing two fingers to the man’s neck.Nothing.
The silence in Elena’s house was suffocating.She sat on the edge of her bed, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles turned white. The events of the night replayed in her head like a broken record—the sickening thud of his body hitting the glass table, the pool of blood spreading across her floor, Lucas’s firm grip on her wrist as he told her to calm the hell down.Her stomach twisted.It was done.The body was buried.And yet, the feeling of dread hadn’t left her.She reached for the wine glass on her bedside table, her fingers trembling as she brought it to her lips. The alcohol burned her throat, but it did little to soothe the panic clawing at her insides.A sudden vibration jolted her, making her nearly drop the glass.Her phone.She grabbed it quickly, her heart racing when she saw the name on the screen.Lucas.Her thumb hovered over the answer button for a second before she finally swiped. “Hello?”“You still panicking?”His voice was calm, smooth—as if they
Elena adjusted the silk robe around her as she made her way down the stairs, still groggy from barely sleeping the night before. The moment she reached the bottom, a knock sounded at the door.Her heart skipped.She hadn’t been expecting anyone.Swallowing the nerves threatening to creep in, she smoothed a hand over her hair before unlocking the door.And there he was.Damion Blackwood.Dressed in a crisp black coat, hands shoved into his pockets, his cold gray eyes locked onto her with that unreadable expression she had always hated.“Damion,” she greeted, quickly masking her unease with a smile. “What a surprise.”His gaze flickered over her appearance before meeting her eyes again. “Heard the news. Thought I’d check in.”Elena blinked. “News?”Damion studied her reaction for a moment. “Didn’t you hear? A man went missing last night.”Elena’s blood ran cold.Damion tilted his head. “Turns out, he was last seen here.”Her breath caught. She wasn’t going to show any sign of weakness.
Damion barely made it back to his car before his phone vibrated in his pocket.Leonard.He answered immediately. “Tell me you have something.”“Still digging,” Leonard’s voice came through, calm and professional. “But the account is heavily encrypted. Whoever set it up knew what they were doing.”Damion clenched his jaw. “How long?”“Give me a few hours.”“Make it quick.”He ended the call, tossing his phone onto the passenger seat.His mind was already calculating the next step.Elena had been stealing from him.And if she had the nerve to do it so openly, it meant she either thought she was untouchable… or she had someone powerful backing her.Lucas.His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.He didn’t believe for a second that Lucas had just coincidentally shown up at Elena’s house. There was something between them, something he hadn’t figured out yet. Something that had linked them together that he was yet to discover. He just needed a little amount of time to do so. But he
Elena sat stiffly on the couch, her fingers curled tightly around the hem of her silk robe as the two officers in front of her watched her closely.The air in the room felt thick, suffocating.“Miss Carter,” one of the officers said, adjusting the notepad in his lap. “We received a report of a missing person—Michael Hayes. His sister called in early this morning, saying he hadn’t returned home.”Elena swallowed hard.Michael.The man she and Lucas had buried just hours ago.She forced a frown, feigning concern. “That’s terrible. But… I don’t understand. Why are you here?”The other officer, a sharp-eyed woman with dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail, leaned forward. “Because according to security footage and a witness statement, he was last seen entering your home.”Elena’s stomach twisted violently.Security footage? A witness?How much did they know?She schooled her features into a mask of confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense. I haven’t seen him in days.”The male officer stu
Adrian’s grip on the desk tightened, his knuckles turning white as he stared at the shattered glass on the floor. His breath came in slow, measured exhales, his mind working through the implications of Damion’s latest move.That video was dangerous.If Damion released it, Adrian would lose everything he had just gained.His fingers tapped rhythmically against the wood, his mind already forming countermeasures. He had always known Damion would fight back—but he hadn’t expected him to move this fast.Adrian reached for his phone, dialing a number he rarely used. The line rang twice before a deep voice answered.“Adrian.”A slow smirk curled Adrian’s lips. “I need something handled.”“Like you did the last time? How urgent?”“Very.” Adrian leaned back in his chair, swirling the last remnants of whiskey in his glass. “And I don’t care what it costs.”“Consider it done.”Adrian ended the call, exhaling slowly.Damion wanted to play dirty?Fine.But Adrian had spent years in the dark, waiti
The soft hum of classical music played in the background as Adrian sat at the head of a lavishly set dining table, an untouched glass of wine in front of him. The restaurant was exclusive, booked entirely for the evening under his name. A few select board members sat across from him, their postures tense despite the expensive ambiance.They knew why they were here.They also knew what he was capable of.Adrian picked up his glass, swirling the dark liquid as he leaned back in his chair. “You all look nervous.”One of the men, an older executive with thinning hair, cleared his throat. “It’s just… we didn’t expect to be called out so soon after the transition.”Adrian smirked. “I like to keep people on their toes.”The silence stretched, the air thick with unspoken tension.Another board member, a woman with sharp features, adjusted her napkin. “Is there something you need from us, Mr. Blackwood?”Adrian set his glass down with a soft clink. “Loyalty.”The word was spoken smoothly, but
Isabelle’s POV The morning sunlight streamed through the office windows, casting a golden glow over my desk. But the warmth of the day couldn’t chase away the chill settling in my chest. The past few weeks had felt like walking a tightrope, with secrets and lies swirling just beneath my feet. Every step forward felt shaky, every move potentially catastrophic. And now this. The anonymous message had arrived in the middle of the night, a single line of text from an untraceable number: “Kaia and Walter are closer than you think. Be careful.” I’d read it a dozen times, each repetition driving the meaning deeper into my mind. Kaia and Walter. Together. It wasn’t impossible. They were both manipulative, both willing to do whatever it took to get what they wanted. But working together? That changed everything. I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen of my phone, the message still open. My instincts screamed that this wasn’t just some baseless rumor. There was int
Kaia’s POV Walter Ryder’s office was as intimidating as the man himself. The rich mahogany desk, the cold steel accents, the sharp angles of the furniture—it all screamed power and control. It was a room designed to make you feel small. But I wouldn’t let him see me flinch. I walked in, heels clicking against the polished floor, my head held high. Walter stood by the window, his back to me, staring out at the sprawling city skyline. “Kaia,” he said, his voice cold and measured. “I hope you have better news this time.” I took a breath, steadying myself. “The situation is under control.” He turned, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. “Is it? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like Damion is unraveling, Isabelle is still in the picture, and your little stunt with the boy has only made things worse.” I swallowed hard, refusing to let his words rattle me. “It was a temporary misstep. Damion will come back to me. He always does.” Walter’s laugh was dry, almost mocki
Kaia’s POV Walter Ryder’s office was as intimidating as the man himself. The rich mahogany desk, the cold steel accents, the sharp angles of the furniture—it all screamed power and control. It was a room designed to make you feel small. But I wouldn’t let him see me flinch. I walked in, heels clicking against the polished floor, my head held high. Walter stood by the window, his back to me, staring out at the sprawling city skyline. “Kaia,” he said, his voice cold and measured. “I hope you have better news this time.” I took a breath, steadying myself. “The situation is under control.” He turned, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. “Is it? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like Damion is unraveling, Isabelle is still in the picture, and your little stunt with the boy has only made things worse.” I swallowed hard, refusing to let his words rattle me. “It was a temporary misstep. Damion will come back to me. He always does.” Walter’s laugh was dry, almost mocki
Isabelle’s POV The kiss was a mistake. I knew it the moment it happened. But it didn’t stop me from leaning into it, from letting Damion’s hands cradle my face, from feeling that dangerous, magnetic pull he’d always had over me. It was reckless. Uncontrolled. Desperate. And then— “Isabelle?” The sound of Brian’s voice sliced through the air like a blade. I wrenched back from Damion, my breath catching as the heat between us shattered into a thousand pieces of cold, hard reality. Brian stood frozen in the doorway, his face pale, his eyes wide with shock and hurt. The papers he’d been holding slipped slightly in his hand, as if he’d forgotten he was even holding them. No. No, no, no. “Brian—” I started, scrambling to fix this, to explain— But he was already backing away, his expression hardening as he swallowed, forcing some calm into his voice. “I— I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll, uh…I’ll wait outside.” And just like that, he turned and disappeared from
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