I want to smash something—anything. But instead, I clench my fists tighter, trying to breathe through the anger that’s boiling in my chest. The living room feels too small, like the walls are closing in on me. I feel Desiree’s eyes on me, calculating how much longer I can keep my cool. She sighs, finally sliding off the couch. "Caspian, don’t let it eat you up tonight. We’ll find a solution tomorrow. You’ve already been through too much today." Her voice is soothing, but it doesn’t do much to dull the rage still surging through me. She stretches her arms and gives me a tired look. "I’m heading to bed. I’m not sticking around for more drama. Today’s already chaotic enough, and I have an appointment with my gynecologist first thing in the morning." I blink, pulled from my wild thoughts. "I’ll meet you upstairs in a few minutes," I say. My mind is still racing a mile a minute, too wired to think about sleep right now. Desiree gives me a half-smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. "No,
I awake to the sound of people shouting from the living room. At first, I think it’s just a dream, the remnants of some chaotic scene seeping into my mind as I try to drag myself out of sleep. But no. The yelling is real, and it’s getting louder. Rubbing my face, I glance at the clock on the nightstand—3:15 a.m. Of course, because when else would a domestic showdown happen in this house? My hand finds the cold spot in the bed next to me. Desiree’s not here. She slept with Juniper in the master bedroom. I sigh as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I had opted for the guest room tonight—partly to avoid waking up to Juniper’s latest crisis, partly because I feel pity for Juniper. After all, she's my sister, and she's going through a tough time. If all I have to do to make her life better is sacrifice my bedroom, then so be it. Shouts escalate from below, muffled but unmistakable, filled with accusation and frustration. I can’t make out the words, but I know who’s down there.
For a second, none of us move. None of us breathe. Then, chaos erupts. “Jesus Christ!” Isaac exclaims, rushing toward Juniper. “I’ll call the hospital!” Desiree yells, already halfway to her phone, her fingers flying over the screen as she dials. And me? I just stand there, frozen, staring at the puddle forming on the floor, my brain trying to catch up with reality. Her water broke. In the middle of this nightmare of a night, her water broke. Before I know it, I’m moving, though I can’t quite remember deciding to do so. I reach Juniper just as Isaac gets to her, both of us hovering awkwardly around her as she clutches her belly, looking absolutely terrified. The anger from moments ago vanishes from her face, replaced by raw panic. “This isn’t happening,” she murmurs, her voice trembling. “This can’t be happening. I’m not ready. The baby isn’t ready.” “Hey, hey, breathe, okay? Just breathe.” Isaac’s voice is soft, almost tender, as he places a hand on her back. For a guy who was
Isaac’s eyes narrow in the mirror. “Last I checked, you, alone, agreed to have this baby, Juniper. Or have you rewritten that part of history too?” “Oh, don’t you dare—” Juniper starts, but then another contraction hits, cutting her off. Her face contorts in pain, and suddenly, I feel like I’m witnessing something far too personal to be happening in a car with three other people. Desiree turns in her seat, leaning toward me. “How are we doing back there?” she asks, her voice softer now, a bit of concern lacing the words. I glance at Juniper, who looks like she’s about to lose it, and then back at Desiree. “We’re… holding on.” “Barely,” Isaac mutters under his breath, just loud enough for all of us to hear. Juniper glares at him, though the effect is somewhat dampened by the fact that she’s currently breathing through what looks like a pretty intense contraction. “Isaac, if you don’t shut up—” Before she can finish the sentence, Isaac pulls the car into the emergency bay of the h
Isaac’s face goes blank, his eyes widening as the words register. “An emergency... C-section?” The doctor nods again. “Yes, it’s the safest option for both her and the baby. We need to move quickly.” For a second, Isaac doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. He just stands there, staring at the doctor as if he didn’t understand a word that was just said. But I can see it—the way his brain is racing, trying to process the decision he’s being asked to make. “I... I don’t—” Isaac stammers, his eyes flicking between the doctor and the door Juniper disappeared through. “Is she... will she be okay?” “We’ll do everything we can,” the doctor replies, his voice calm but clipped, like he’s repeating a well-practiced line. “But we need your consent to proceed.” Isaac’s hand goes to his hair again, pulling at it in frustration. “I—God, I don’t know what to do. What if something goes wrong? What if—” Desiree steps forward then, placing a hand on his arm. “Isaac, listen to me. You need to sign that
We all trail behind the doctor, walking down the fluorescent-lit corridors that seem to stretch on forever. As we reach the recovery room, the doctor pushes open the door gently, and Isaac is the first to step inside. The room is quiet, too quiet, save for the soft beeping of machines and the occasional rustle of paper from a nurse checking Juniper's vitals. There she is, propped up in bed, looking pale but surprisingly alert, her hair a tangled mess, but somehow still managing to look like her vibrant self. Isaac is at her side in an instant, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips. “Juniper,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “God, I thought—” “I’m fine, Isaac.” Her voice is soft but firm. “We’re all fine.” Isaac blinks, glancing at the small bassinets beside her bed, each cradling a tiny, wrinkled bundle. His breath catches, and for a moment, the awe on his face replaces the worry. “They’re… they’re ours,” he breathes, his hand trembling as he reaches out to touch on
For a moment, neither of us says anything. The room seems quieter now, the rhythmic beeping of the machines the only sound. Juniper shifts slightly in the bed, wincing as she adjusts herself to face me. “You’re probably wondering why I wanted to talk to you,” she says, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant. I nod, stepping closer to the bed but keeping a respectful distance. “Yeah, it crossed my mind.” She smiles, but there’s no humor in it. “Caspian, you’ve always been my rock. The best brother anyone could ask for. I didn’t have time to say this to you before because, you know, I was kinda busy being pregnant and arguing with Isaac. One thing I never took you for was a blind person.” Her words hit me like a punch. Blind? What the hell is she talking about? I open my mouth to respond, but she’s already continuing. "How long have you and Desiree been married?" she aks, catching me off guard once again. I blink, trying to process. "A couple of months... why?" Juniper giv
I stare at Juniper, trying to figure out what she means. At the back of my mind, I probably know where she’s headed with this, but it never hurts to ask. “So in essence,” I say, “what are you saying?” The soft, sterile light of the hospital room doesn’t match the gritty, borderline absurd conversation that’s happening between Juniper and me. My sister lies there in her hospital bed, exhausted from giving birth and yet somehow full of this sharp-edged wisdom she’s clearly been saving for just the right moment. It’s disconcerting, to say the least. She fixes me with a hard stare. "Get involved with Desiree’s family," she says. “Infiltrate them. Charm them. Get them to like you.” “Okay?” I say. “You’re telling me to charm my wife’s parents? To what… win a popularity contest?” Juniper’s frown deepens. “Popularity contest? Caspian, come on. No. I’m saying that if you can actually get her family on your side, they’ll feel a sense of gratitude. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll start to see yo
I nod, my throat tight. “You better be.” The doors to the delivery room swing open, and suddenly, I’m surrounded by bright lights, the sterile smell of antiseptic, and the calm, authoritative voices of nurses. My mind is racing. My body, however, is focused on one thing: the relentless, excruciating contractions that feel like my insides are being wrung out like a soaked towel. “Breathe, Desiree. You’ve got this,” a nurse says, guiding me onto the bed. Caspian bursts through the door moments later, his hair disheveled, his suit jacket gone, and his sleeves rolled up. He looks like a man ready for battle. And, honestly, that’s what this feels like. “I’m here,” he says, taking my hand again. His grip is warm, solid, a lifeline in this sea of chaos. I glare at him through the pain. “You did this to me.” He leans down, brushing a kiss against my sweaty forehead. “I know, baby. And you’re doing amazing.” “Amazing? I feel like I’m being ripped in half!” I shout, my voice cracking wit
~~Months later~~ My best friend, Jessica, decided to organise a baby shower for me. She rented a penthouse. I know Caspian's involved in this. Who else is paying for the penthouse? The penthouse is everything Jessica promised and more—sleek marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows with a panoramic view of the city, and enough floral arrangements to make a florist weep. There’s an extravagant dessert table with a towering cake. And, of course, the unmistakable Caspian touch—a champagne fountain. I take it all in, my eyes narrowing suspiciously as I glance at Jessica, who’s currently trying to pass off the event as “modest.” Modest my ass. “You’re sure this wasn’t Caspian’s idea?” Jessica flashes her most innocent smile, which is about as believable as a politician’s promise. “I mean, he may have helped. But you deserve this! Come on, Dee, when was the last time we celebrated you?” I snort, adjusting the sash draped across my belly that reads Mom-to-Be. “You mean besides the
Desiree's POVWe're at a press conference.Cameras flash like lights at a club, and the buzz of reporters fills the air like a swarm of relentless bees. I hate it. Every second of it. But I stand tall, my hand resting in Caspian’s, my knuckles white from the grip. He doesn’t seem fazed—his jaw set, his eyes gleaming. He’s in his element.Me? I’m a bundle of nerves hiding behind a tailored dress and a painted-on smile.The tension in the room is obvious. Every gaze is pinned on us, every microphone is pointed in our direction. There’s no escaping it.Caspian steps forward, adjusting the microphone. His presence is magnetic. Commanding. He could announce the end of the world, and people would believe it was for their own good.He clears his throat, and the room falls silent.“For weeks now, CypherEdge Dynamics has been under siege,” he begins. “An individual named Mabel Blackwood infiltrated our company. She blackmailed board members, manipulated shareholders, and attempted to undermine
“Mr. Hart,” Aaron’s voice oozes through the line, smug and infuriating. “I trust you’ve been thinking about my offer.”“More like thinking about how to kill you,” I mutter under my breath, then louder: “I’ve considered it. But I need proof Desiree is alive. Now.”A pause. Then, Desiree’s voice, faint but there. “Caspian, please…”It takes everything in me not to lose it. “I’m here, Desiree. Hold on.”Aaron returns. “Satisfied?”“Barely,” I say. “You’ll get what you want. But not a second before I see her safe.”“Fine,” Aaron agrees. “Bring the drives to the location we’ll send you. Alone. And no tricks, Hart. Or she dies.”The line goes dead.Antonio is already moving, giving quick commands into his headset. “They’ll never see us coming,” he promises.I grip the phone. “They’d better not.”Because if they do, I’ll burn the entire city down before I let them take her away from me.---I park a block away from the designated warehouse, my pulse thudding in my ears. I sit there for a mom
The tone sends a chill down my spine. Calm, too calm, like this is a business deal and not—“Where is she?” I say. “If you’ve touched her—”“Tsk, tsk,” the man interrupts, almost amused. “Let’s not start with threats. You’re not in a position to make them.”I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles white. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”“Don’t I? Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Hart. Ruthless. Powerful. But none of that matters here.”My free hand balls into a fist at my side. “What do you want?”Finally, he gets to the point. “You’re going to deliver something to me. Two things, actually. First, the drives you took from Mabel’s mother’s house.”My mind races. How does he know about those?“And second,” he continues, “your shares in the company. Sign them over. All of them.”I laugh, sharp and humorless. “You think I’ll just hand those over? Do you know what they’re worth?”“Oh, I know exactly what they’re worth.” His voice drops. “I also know what she’s worth to you.”The a
Caspian's POVIt’s been over two hours since Desiree disappeared, and the hospital has called the police against my wishes.I’m pacing the waiting room like a caged animal, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead doing nothing to quell the pounding in my skull. Every passing second feels like an eternity, a loud and unrelenting reminder that she’s not here, that I don’t know where she is, that I failed to protect her.“Mr. Hart,” one of the officers starts, her voice too calm, too measured, like she’s asking about a lost cat. “Let’s go over this again. You’re sure your wife didn’t… leave voluntarily?”My fist clenches so hard my knuckles crack. I whip around, staring at her like she’s grown a second head.“Voluntarily?” The word leaves my mouth dripping with venom. “You think she just decided to disappear in the middle of a goddamn ultrasound?”The other officer, a man with a face so nondescript I could forget it in seconds, clears his throat. “We’re just trying to establish all possi
Desiree’s POVI wake up feeling like my head has been split in two.Pain radiates from the back of my skull, throbbing with every heartbeat. My mouth feels like I’ve swallowed sand, and the metallic tang of blood lingers on my tongue. I try to move, but my arms won’t budge. Cold metal digs into my wrists, and the sharp edge of panic slices through the fog clouding my mind.“Welcome back.”The voice is smooth, almost polite, but it sends a chill racing down my spine. I force my eyes open, blinking against the dim light until the blurry figure in front of me sharpens into focus.Aaron.He leans casually against a table, his arms crossed, a smug grin stretched across his face. He looks like a villain from one of those old spy movies—too polished, too composed, too damn pleased with himself.“What the hell,” I croak, my voice raspy. “What is this, amateur hour? I thought kidnappers were supposed to wear masks.”He chuckles, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring my sarcasm. “You’re in go
Caspian's POVDesiree has been gone for too long.I glance at the clock on the wall, tapping my fingers on the armrest of the chair in rhythm with my heartbeat, which is getting louder and faster with every passing second. Maybe I’m being paranoid. Maybe this is one of those “pregnancy bladder” situations everyone warned me about. But how long does it take a pregnant woman to pee? Five minutes? Ten? I’ve lost track of time, but it feels like hours.I shift in my chair, trying to shake off the gnawing sense of unease creeping up my spine. The ultrasound pictures are still in my hand, slightly crumpled from where my grip has tightened.“She’s fine,” I mutter to myself. “She’s fine.”But the words don’t stick.Standing abruptly, I glance toward the hallway leading to the bathroom. The corridor feels longer than I remember, its sterile walls closing in like they’re mocking me. Every instinct in me screams that something isn’t right.Dr. William steps out of an adjacent room, looking surpr
Dr. William turns to us, his smile widening. “It’s a girl.”For a moment, the world stops. A girl. We’re having a daughter.“A girl,” I repeat, the words tasting foreign and magical on my tongue. Tears spill over before I can stop them, and I press a hand to my mouth, overcome with emotion.Caspian is silent beside me, his gaze fixed on the monitor. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, as if he’s struggling to keep his own emotions in check. “A girl,” he echoes. Then, with a soft laugh, he adds, “God help her if she inherits your stubbornness.”“Excuse me?” I glare at him, though the tears streaming down my face probably ruin the effect. “She’s going to be the perfect combination of both of us, thank you very much.”“Let’s hope she leans more toward your good looks than my temper.”“Let’s hope she doesn’t inherit your ego,” I shoot back, though my voice is choked with laughter.Dr. William chuckles, stepping back to give us a moment. “I’ll print out some pictures for you two. T