Desiree looks up at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yes,” she breathes, her voice barely audible. I can't help but smile as I undress her, my fingers tracing the contours of her body. Her skin is smooth and warm, and I can't get enough of it. I want to touch every inch of her, to make her feel every inch of me. As she lies there, completely exposed and vulnerable, I can feel her eyes on me. She's watching me, her gaze burning into my skin. I know that she wants me, that she needs me, and that she's ready to let go of everything else and just be in this moment with me. I slowly strip off my own clothes, my eyes never leaving hers. I want her to see me, to know that I'm all hers. And then, without another word, I climb onto the bed and position myself between her legs. “Are you ready?” I ask, my voice a low growl. She nods, her eyes never leaving mine. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling with desire. I can't help but smile as I enter her, feeling her warmth and wetness
“Right now?” I shake my head, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Can’t this wait till I’ve gotten a healthy dose of dopamine from you?” She laughs, a soft sound that’s both teasing and serious. “As tempting as that is, no. This can’t wait.” She pauses, her expression softening just a bit, though I can see that same intensity behind her eyes. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, Caspian. And I think there’s something you’re not telling me.” “What?” I try to keep my tone light, but there’s a weight behind her words, something that’s instantly sobering. “What are you talking about?” She shifts, sitting up a little straighter as she pulls the sheets around herself. “What did you and Juniper really discuss in that delivery room?” Her eyes search mine, unwavering. “And how does it involve my family?” For a second, I’m silent, the weight of her question sinking in. The shadows around us suddenly feel thicker, and I can see she’s not going to let this go. There’s an unspoken edge to her gaze, a sha
She’s silent, her gaze softening, the walls around her crumbling just a bit. “You’re really something, you know that?” I smile, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’ve heard.” For a long moment, we just sit there, wrapped in each other’s presence, and I can feel the weight of her past, the bruises and scars that her family left on her. But there’s something else too—a flicker of hope, the tiniest spark of possibility. It’s fragile, tentative, but it’s there. “Maybe,” she whispers, almost like she’s testing the word. “Maybe it’s worth a shot. I don’t know if I’m ready to trust them again. But maybe I could try… for us.” I smile, feeling something light and fierce surge through me. I know this isn’t a decision she’s come to lightly; it’s a leap into the unknown, a painful step toward a place she’s never thought she’d revisit. And for her to even consider it—it means more than words. “I don’t need you to forgive them, or even like them,” I say, my hand still holding
"You're... at the gate?" I sit up, confusion flaring. Mike hasn’t dropped by unannounced since he was a teenager sneaking in past curfew. "What’s going on?""I just need a place to crash for a while. Can I come in?"I give the guard the necessary clearance and hang up, still trying to wrap my head around why Mike is here at nearly midnight. I glance over at Desiree, who raises an eyebrow but says nothing, though her eyes are swimming with questions of her own.A few minutes later, Mike steps into the living room, dragging a large, clearly packed suitcase behind him. He looks... rough. Dark circles under his eyes, his usually impeccable suit wrinkled, his tie shoved hastily into his jacket pocket. He doesn’t look like the polished, composed man who’s been my thorn in the business side lately. He looks—well, he looks lost."Didn’t know I’d be getting a visit tonight," I say, trying to keep my tone light.Mike gives a half-hearted shrug. "Didn’t know I’d be here either."We stand there i
I bark a laugh. “This has nothing to do with insecurity, Mike. It’s about boundaries. Respect. You don’t waltz in here and make yourself at home like nothing happened. You’re a guest, remember that.”“Guest,” he mutters, shaking his head, and then louder, “Funny, considering this used to be my home too.”“Well, it isn’t anymore,” I say, holding my ground. “You lost the right to call it that when you left, remember?”He laughs, hollow and bitter. “Right, because that’s what you do, huh? Hold everything over people’s heads, make them earn back your approval. You want me to grovel, Dad? Will that make you feel better?”“Grovel?” I scoff. “No. I just expect a little decency. And maybe a shirt.”He rolls his eyes, then stands, hands on his hips, his face twisted in a smirk that’s too much like mine for comfort. “Fine, Dad. You want me to ‘respect the house’? Consider it done.” He grabs his shirt from the arm of the couch and pulls it on, deliberately slow, like he’s doing me a favor.The s
He shoots her a glare, visibly annoyed, but it’s me who steps in this time, deciding I’ve let him get away with evading for long enough.“She’s got a point,” I say, arms folded across my chest. “You’re here, taking up space, acting like nothing happened. But let’s not pretend like we haven’t all got questions. So why did you leave, Mike?”He shifts uncomfortably, his hand gripping the countertop like it’s the only thing holding him up. “You wouldn’t understand,” he mutters, staring down again, shoulders hunched.“Try us,” I say, keeping my voice steady, but with enough bite to make it clear I’m not backing down.He scowls, straightening up, looking like he’s debating whether it’s worth the fight. “Look, I didn’t come here to get interrogated, alright? I came here to get some peace. You know, maybe a little bit of space to think.”“Oh, space to think,” Desiree says, raising an eyebrow. “Funny, most people use hotels for that. Or a beach. Anywhere but their dad’s house after months of…
I let out a soft chuckle, shaking my head. “That’s not what I want, Mike. You might be a handful, and you might have done a few things that…” I hesitate, looking for the right words, “…that made things complicated. But you’re my son. This is your home as much as it is mine. Stay as long as you need.”He scoffs, shoving his hands into his pocket. “Really? After everything I’ve done? After all the trouble I’ve caused?”I step into the room, folding my arms. “You think you’re the only one who’s messed up? Trust me, Mike, I’ve made my share of mistakes. We all have. But that doesn’t mean you’re any less my son. You’re family, and family… well, we don’t just walk away because things get ugly.”He looks at me, and for a moment, I see something shift in his expression—a flicker of vulnerability he’s trying hard to keep buried. “I don’t deserve this, you know. After everything I did to you… and Desiree.”I sigh, nodding. “You’re right. What you did hurt. You hurt her, you hurt me, and you bet
Desiree's POV It's been a couple of days since Mike brought his things into the house, and so far, he seems to be everywhere. In the kitchen when I go to get water. In the living room when I want to have a living room time. Even in the damn compound when I’m trying to catch some air. “Are you following me?” I say, as I see Mike coming toward the pool where I’m lounging. Mike lets out a long, exasperated sigh, the kind that sounds halfway between a groan and a laugh, as he strolls toward the pool. He’s shirtless, naturally, like he owns the entire planet. I glare at him from my lounge chair, the sun beating down on me, but I can’t tell if the heat is from the sun or my own annoyance. “Are you following me?” I ask again, looking up from my sunglasses. He raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” “You heard me. It’s been days since you moved back in, and somehow you’re everywhere. Every room, every corner, and now, here, by the pool. It’s like I can’t breathe without you showing up.” He rol
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