~~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
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
Desiree's POVToday is my boyfriend's twenty-fifth birthday, and I’ve planned a surprise party for him. “Hush, he's almost here,” I tell everyone.I’ve decorated the living room with sparkling fairy lights and bright blue, red, and purple balloons—Mike’s favorite colors. It looks amazing. A big banner that says "Happy 25th Birthday, Mike!" hangs over the fireplace, but it’s a bit crooked because I couldn't reach the middle without wobbling on a chair. The smell of his favorite foods—spicy buffalo wings, loaded nachos, and lots of pizza—fills the air. My heart is beating fast with excitement. “Is he almost here?” someone asks, yawning.“We’re starving,” another guest says.I roll my eyes. “Oh, be quiet. You’ll ruin the surprise.”The truth is, I’m hungry too. And worried. We’ve been waiting here longer than I expected, awkwardly holding a bottle of champagne, a can of foam spray, a bag of confetti, and a fake trumpet. My stomach growls. I glance longingly at the snack table but resis
The room erupts into chaos as they tussle, pulling and shoving each other. Mabel shrieks, trying to fend Jessica off, but Jessica is relentless, her face twisted with fury. The guests are stunned, some trying to intervene while others just watch, wide-eyed.That's right, Jessica. Attack the bitch.During the chaos, I manage to wrench myself free from William's grip. Fueled by rage, I push past the bewildered guests and make a beeline for Mabel.She’s still fighting with Jessica, their screams and claws flying. I dive into the fray, grabbing Mabel's arm with a vice-like grip.“You think you can just waltz in and ruin everything?” I shout.Mabel’s eyes widen in fear as she struggles to break free, but I hold on tight, determined to make her understand the magnitude of her betrayal.“You’re a coward,” I spit, my grip tightening. “You can’t even face me like a decent human being.”Mabel's eyes dart around, looking for help. “Let me go, Desiree!” she screeches, her voice cracking with desp
Mike’s number is no longer reachable.It’s been a week since he shattered my heart. A week since he left me for my cousin. I haven’t been sleeping or eating well, and my mind is consumed with thoughts of him. Each time I call his line, it goes straight to voicemail.“Hi, this is Mike. Leave a message,” his recorded voice says, a cruel reminder of what I’ve lost.I’ve tried reaching him at his office too. “Is Mike available?” I ask every time.“Sorry, he’s in a meeting,” his secretary, Edwina, always replies, her voice annoyingly polite.“When will he be out?” I persist.“Not sure, he has a busy schedule.”One day, I call again. “Edwina, please, it’s important. Can you let him know I’m trying to reach him?”“I’m sorry, Desiree,” she says, sounding slightly more sympathetic this time. “He’s just not available right now.”Frustrated, I push harder. “Edwina, we used to be friends. Can’t you just tell him I need to talk to him?”There’s a brief pause on the other end. “I’m sorry, but there
I push past her and run into the crowd, my pulse racing. The farther I go, the clearer the voices become. The crowd is shouting, "Say yes! Say yes!"And there he is, on his knees in the middle of the dance floor, holding out a ring to Mabel. My heart sinks.“No. No. No,” I whisper, my voice lost in the deafening music. I scream, “That’s mine!” but the words are swallowed by the roar of the crowd.Jessica grabs my arm, trying to hold me back.I watch in horror as Mabel dances around after accepting Mike’s proposal. She twirls, her face glowing with joy, then throws herself into Mike’s arms. They hug and kiss, oblivious to the world around them.My vision blurs with tears as I stand frozen, unable to look away. Each kiss feels like a dagger to my heart. The crowd’s cheers feel like a cruel mockery of my shattered world.When I look around, I see familiar faces—William, people from Mike’s job, people from his gym. All smiling, cameras flashing. The same people who celebrated with me at M
I have a new favorite hobby. Every night, before I go to bed, I g****e Caspian Hart, the CEO of CypherEdge Dynamics, Mike’s father. And God help me, the man is breathtaking. There isn't much information or many pictures published of him on the internet, but the few I've seen have left me addicted. His piercing blue eyes and chiseled jawline make it impossible not to be drawn to him. One night, as I’m absorbed in my ritual, Jessica catches me off guard. "Who's this man you keep googling?" she asks. I slam my laptop shut, feeling my cheeks flush. "Nobody important," I mumble. "Seriously? Nobody important?" Jessica’s eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. "That’s what you tell me after nine years of friendship?" I pause, trying to decide if I should tell her. Jessica is a baddie, a well-known one at that, but she can be puritanical. She'd once ripped me a new one for smashing the windshield of my ex's car after I found out he was cheating. "Giving him a taste of your wrath is one thing,"
“Hi, Uncle Bruno,” I say. His loud voice booms out of the receiver, “If it isn’t my favorite niece. Hello, Dee Dee. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” Uncle Bruno is one of the coolest people I know. He's a famous TV and event host who plans and leads big events all over the world. This year, he's the host of the Luminary Gala. Uncle Bruno is related to my dad's new wife (the super religious one). He's her brother, so that makes him my step-uncle. He's also one of the few friends I have. “I need to get an invitation to this year’s Luminary Gala. Can you get me on the guest list?” I say. There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Hello? Are you there?” I say. “Yeah, I’m here. That was... unexpected. It’s a very exclusive event, Dee.” “I can be your plus one,” I offer quickly. “I already have a plus one.” “Your plus two, then.” He pauses, and I can almost hear the gears turning in his head. “Hmmm.” “Is that a yes or a no?” I ask, anxiety creeping into m
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