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 let out a low whistle, shaking my head. “Juniper, this… this is insane.” “Is it?” she asks. “Or is it the only way you’re going to stand a chance against her?” She’s got me there. Mabel has done everything in her power to make my life hell, slipping through every loophole, manipulating every situation to her advantage. She's always a step ahead. If I could get her family to give me something… anything I could use… “Desiree will never forgive me if she finds out,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop myself. Juniper tilts her head, watching me carefully. “That’s why you’ll need to be discreet. And if you play this right, Desiree won’t need to know a thing. You’re not doing this to hurt her—you’re doing it to protect her.” There’s a twisted sort of logic to it, but I can’t deny the thrill that runs through me at the thought. “You really think this could work?” “Absolutely.” Juniper’s voice is full of conviction, the same tone she uses when she knows she’s right.
She blinks, her face falling as if I just told her we’re going on a long trip to a dentist's office. “My family? What family?” “Extended family.” “What have they got to do with anything?” “Shit, that reaction wasn’t the warm embrace I was hoping for,” I say, leading her toward the exit. “Can you be a little less obvious about your hatred? Where’s the family spirit?” “Long gone, Caspian. Seriously, can we not?” She gives me a look. “I’m starving. Can we focus on that?” I chuckle, holding open the door for her. “Fine. Food first. But you’re not off the hook, just so you know.” We say a few brief goodbyes to Isaac and promise we’ll visit him, Juniper, and the babies soon. And after what feels like an eternity, we finally make it to the car. The second we’re on the road, I know it’s only a matter of time. Desiree’s too curious, too sharp not to ask questions. I can practically feel her thoughts churning beside me. “So…” she says, fiddling with the radio, the question lingering in
“Maybe they’ve changed,” I suggest, not quite ready to drop this. “People can surprise you.” She chuckles. “You think my mom’s suddenly going to be okay with the fact that I wanted more than a chicken coop? Or that my stepmom is going to forget the fact that I dared to dance for a living?” “You’d be surprised.” I give her a sideways glance. “People can come around in unexpected ways. Maybe they’ve been waiting for you to reach out.” “Waiting?” she scoffs. “Trust me, if they’d cared at all, they would have reached out to me.” Silence falls between us, thick and uncomfortable, and I can feel the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. I want to push, to get her to see the merit in what Juniper said, but at the same time, I know that pushing too hard will only drive her further away from the idea. After a moment, I decide to take a different approach. “Okay, so… let’s say you don’t care about mending things with them. Fine. But maybe you should do it for yourself.” She rais
She laughs, a genuine laugh that feels like a ripple across my skin. “You know that’s not what I meant. But she has this...unpredictable energy. You have to admit it’s kind of entertaining.” I pretend to sigh. “Oh, I know it too well. She’s a one-woman circus. Especially when she decides to steal her husband’s furniture right out from under him.” I pause, picturing the scene of Juniper packing up half her house while Isaac was out. “Can you imagine what he must’ve thought, walking into an empty house?” Desiree’s laughter bubbles up, shaking both of us. “The poor guy must’ve had a heart attack. Imagine coming home to... nothing. She’s wild. The idea of yanking out all the furniture and just...moving in here without a plan.” "Exactly. And not even a word about it until it’s halfway done. ‘Oh, I’ll just set up shop at Caspian and Desiree’s. They won’t mind. And Isaac...well, he’ll be fine with it. Eventually.’” I smirk, shaking my head. “I mean, how she didn’t expect him to call about
Desiree's POV For the first time in days—no, weeks—Caspian is finally heading out of the house. I watch him adjust his tie in the mirror by the door, his face looking oddly alive with something that almost resembles eagerness. He’s got that rare sparkle in his eye, the one I’ve seen too few times lately, as if he’s back to chasing some semblance of purpose. Finally. I lean against the doorframe, arms folded, giving him one last scrutinizing look as he straightens his coat. He catches my gaze in the mirror, giving me a lopsided smile, and it’s almost enough to soften me. Almost. “Don’t forget what we talked about,” he says, just like that, as if we’d been discussing mundane grocery lists and not the enormous and inconvenient subject of my estranged family. “What?” I ask, knowing full well what he’s getting at. His eyes narrow a fraction. “Call your parents, Cherry. Do it for me.” I make a face, one that I hope conveys just how little I want to hear this right now. “I’ll thi
“Desiree,” he says, with a sigh that feels too familiar. “Let’s not go down that road. She just wants to make amends. You know how she is.” “Oh, I know exactly how she is, Dad. Remember, she’s the one who threw me out because I wasn’t living up to her standards of… what was it?” I snap my fingers, recalling the exact wording she used, “moral purity? Because I was, God forbid, dancing?” I can almost hear him wince. “She… she wasn’t fair to you. I’ll give you that. But she’s tried to see things differently. We both have.” My stomach twists at his words, but I don’t know if it’s anger or something darker, something lonelier. “So that’s all it takes? I get married, and suddenly, she’s seeing things differently?” “Desiree, this isn’t easy for me either, you know.” His voice is low, pleading, as if he wants me to understand something I’m not quite grasping. “When you left… it wasn’t just you who left. It was a part of our family. A part of me. Maybe now… I don’t know. Maybe now we can…
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