MegraI walk into the prison, trying to keep my head high, optimism bubbling inside me. The walls are cold and grey, but I don't let it dampen my mood. Today, things will be different. I’m not just here to face Conor—I’m here to solve the puzzle. I can persuade him. I know it. The warden had instructed me to go straight to his office, and I’m confident this meeting is a big step toward the end of my torment.My heels click against the hard floor as I pass through the hallways, the echo of each step reminding me how far I’ve come. My heart races, but not from fear—this is a chance, a small glimmer of hope that I’ve been clinging to. If I can get Conor to talk, if I can retrace his steps, then maybe I can finally figure out who has been tormenting me all these months. The thought makes my smile grow, and I feel the corners of my lips twitch upward. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m moving forward.I reach the door and knock, feeling a little nervous but still determined.
Nathaniel Caution is my only friend now. I move slowly and carefully, every step deliberate, as I walk through the darkened streets toward the docks. The weight of what lies ahead presses down on my shoulders, making my every breath feel heavy. My mind replays the events of the past two years—a vicious loop of mistakes, betrayals, and unexpected turns. I can't afford another misstep, not now. I know that this might be a trap, but I am desperate. Two years ago, everything seemed so clear. Megra and I had just signed the contract—a bizarre, desperate arrangement that would make her my wife. It was supposed to be a fresh start, a way to secure our future and stabilize the family. But then the intruder came. Megra was almost killed, her life hanging by a thread after that vicious attack. I remember her lying in a hospital bed, her face pale, her body bruised. That was the beginning of everything falling apart. And then Anna appeared, like a storm that swept through my life, leaving noth
Megra The hospital doors swing open with a rush of cold air, and I push my way through, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. I can't breathe, can't think straight. All I know is that I need to see him. Nathaniel. I heard what happened—Archer was shot, but what if it wasn’t Archer they were after? What if Nathaniel was the target all along and Archer just got in the way? The thought sends a shiver down my spine. I can’t lose him. Not now, not ever. The smell of antiseptics and bleach fills my nose, making me gag. My shoes squeak against the polished floor as I race down the corridor, my eyes darting around, searching for him. Fear grips me tight, and anger simmers beneath the surface. How many times are we going to have to look over our shoulders? How many more times will we be forced to watch our backs, never knowing who might come after us next? And then I see him. Nathaniel is pacing up and down the ER corridor, his face pale, his eyes wide with fear. He looks like he’s been
MegraI walk back inside the waiting room, my legs feeling like they’re made of lead. The bright, sterile lights overhead buzz like a swarm of angry bees, making my head throb even more. I slump into one of the hard plastic chairs, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. Every muscle in my body aches, not from physical exhaustion but from the emotional toll that’s been dragging me down since Nathaniel was arrested.My mind spins, replaying the events of the last few days over and over, like a nightmare I can’t wake up from. Nathaniel being dragged away in handcuffs. The cold, unfeeling words of the police officer, who couldn’t care less about the truth. And now, Archer is fighting for his life. This was never supposed to happen. How did everything spiral out of control so quickly? How did we end up here?I have to help Nathaniel. I have to help myself. And I have to help Mia, our sweet, innocent daughter, who has no idea what’s happening around her. I have to pro
MegraThe fluorescent lights above flicker as I pace back and forth across the cold, tiled floor of the police station. My heart races, and my mind spins, tangled in knots of confusion and fear. Nathaniel has been arrested. The words echo in my head, but they don’t make any sense. I haven’t been able to speak to him, and nobody has given me any information on what’s happening. All I know is that he’s being held in connection with Archer’s shooting, but I don’t understand how. How could this be happening? How could they suspect Nathaniel?The waiting area is sterile, almost lifeless—the kind of place where time seems to drag endlessly. I glance at the clock on the wall; it’s been hours, but it feels like days. The uncertainty bites at me. I haven’t even told Nathaniel that Conor is out of prison. Conor. His name brings a shiver down my spine. Everything has felt suspicious since I heard the news. Could Conor be involved in all of this? My mind races with possibilities, but none of them
MegraA few days later, I find myself walking toward the courthouse for Nathaniel’s bail hearing. My heart feels like it’s caught in a vice, each step heavier than the last. As I approach the grand stone steps, my eyes catch on a newspaper headline blaring from a nearby stand:**“Disgraced Billionaire, Adulterer, and Now Murder Suspect: Nathaniel Coven’s Fall from Grace.” **The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stop dead in my tracks, staring at the headline as it burns itself into my brain. Each word is like a dagger, twisting deeper and deeper. **Adulterer.** How did they find out? Who’s been feeding the press these lies, working so hard to paint Nathaniel as the villain, to make him look guilty before he even has a chance to prove his innocence?I swallow hard, my stomach churning. This will destroy him. Nathaniel would see this. He would read those words and spiral into despair, believing that everyone has already turned against him and that there’s no point in fighting. But
NathanielThe jail cell is cold and unforgiving. I sit on the narrow bench, staring at the cracked concrete floor beneath my feet. The air smells of sweat and stale cigarettes, and the distant sound of a guard’s boots is heard through the corridors. I close my eyes, trying to block it all out, but I can’t. It's getting bad. Whoever framed me for this is getting too close for my own comfort. My mind is a storm of thoughts, each one darker than the last. Why is it that Megra and I have to fight this hard?Anna’s face flashes before me, her expression unreadable. I still don’t understand why she would turn on me like this, why she’d feed the papers the story of an adulterer when she knows damn well she was the one who ran a game on me from the start. She’s the one who manipulated me, who set this whole thing in motion. And now, here I am, the one being dragged through the mud, the one being crucified in the court of public opinion. How quickly people turn on you, how fast they forget who
Megra Nathaniel and I step into the hospital room, and immediately, the sterile smell of antiseptic fills my lungs. The lights are dim, casting long shadows that stretch across the floor, making the place feel colder than it is. I glance at Nathaniel, watching as his expression shifts from determination to something far more vulnerable. His eyes fall on Archer, lying motionless on the bed, hooked up to machines that beep steadily, keeping time with his fragile heartbeat. My own heart breaks as I see the weight of everything settle onto Nathaniel’s shoulders, his normally strong posture slumping as if the burden is too much to bear. Nathaniel hesitates, standing in the doorway like he's rooted there, unable to take another step. The sight of his brother, so still and helpless, seems to freeze him in place. I feel a pang of sorrow, a tightness in my chest that makes it hard to breathe. I want to pull him back, to take him away from all this pain, but I know he needs to face it. We both
Epilogue MegraWe stand quietly in front of my mother’s gravestone, feeling the earth beneath my feet solid and cool, like an anchor to this moment. The air is still, the sky washed in muted shades of grey as though the world is holding its breath with me. My eyes trace the familiar letters etched into the smooth stone:**Iris Adams** **Loving Mother, Wife, Daughter, and Sister.**The words feel heavier than usual today, each title pulling me back into memories I’ve spent years trying to bury. There’s something so final about seeing her name like this. My mother. The one person who was always there for me, always strong, always protecting me. And yet, she carried so many secrets. I think about the life she left behind to raise me on her own—the family I only just found out about. All that time, it was just the two of us. She gave up so much, not for herself but for me.A gust of wind stirs the leaves around the graveyard, and I close my eyes, letting the cool air brush against my ski
MegraMusic floats in the air, soft and melodious, filling the room with a sense of calm and joy. I take in a deep breath, letting the sound settle into my bones, feeling its soothing rhythm steady my racing heart. It’s been a year—one long, tumultuous year since everything happened with Becca. A year of healing, of working to forget the chaos Nathaniel and I faced. A year of finding peace, of finding ourselves, of watching Nathaniel become the most wonderful father to the most beautiful daughter.I close my eyes for a moment, holding on to the feeling of peace. When I open them again, I’m staring at myself in the mirror. My eyes glisten with tears as I take in my reflection—my wedding gown flowing around me like a cascade of dreams. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen, pure white and delicate, with lace that trails down to the floor. I feel like a princess, like the heroine of a story I once dreamed about but never thought would come true.“Oh my gosh, Megra, you look amazin
MegraIt's been a few days since the fire, since Becca's death. I should feel lighter, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, but instead, there's a different heaviness inside me. I can't quite name it—grief, guilt, relief, maybe all of them tangled together. I stand in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. Mia is perched on the vanity, watching me with her bright eyes. I meet her gaze in the mirror, offering a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach my eyes.I pick up a small powder puff and begin to dab it gently against my cheeks. The cool, smooth texture of the powder calms me slightly, a welcome distraction from the storm of emotions swirling inside me. Nathaniel is home now, his health restored, his body healing. I’m grateful for that. The newspapers have been full of stories about his heroics, praising him for his bravery. The police cleared his name after searching Becca’s apartment. They found her journals, her twisted plans. It’s all out in the open now.
MegraThe world around me is blurry, shifting in and out of focus. I blink slowly, trying to clear my vision. The ceiling above me is white, harshly bright against my eyes. I feel heavy, like I'm sinking into the hospital bed beneath me. My head throbs, my body aches, and every breath feels like it takes more effort than the last. I hear a steady beep—machines. I’m in a hospital.I remember flames, smoke, Becca's twisted smile. My chest tightens as I recall Nathaniel rushing into the fire. "Nathaniel?" I croak out, my voice barely a whisper, dry and cracked. Panic surges through me, tightening my throat. I try to sit up, but my body protests. "Nathaniel?"A familiar voice, gentle and soothing, cuts through the fog of my thoughts. "He’s fine, my darling." I turn my head slowly, and there she is—Liza, standing beside me. Her face is calm, but I can see the worry in her eyes.“Liza…” I manage, my voice weak. “Where is he? I have to see him. I have to know he’s okay.”She steps closer, ta
Megra“Nathaniel!” I scream, my voice tearing through the chaos as he bursts into the living room, Andrew right behind him. Smoke fills the air, thick and suffocating, and for a moment, all I can see are their silhouettes moving through the haze. My heart leaps with desperate, wild hope. They’ve come for me. They’ve come to save me.Becca’s laugh slices through the air, sharp and cold. Her eyes, wild with madness, flick from Nathaniel to me, and her lips curl into a sinister smile. “You see?” she snarls, her voice dripping with venom. “Even now, even in the face of danger, they run to you. Everyone runs to you, like moths to a flame. Well, then, they deserve your fate.”I watch, my breath catching in my throat, as she pulls a lighter from her pocket, the small flame flickering in the dim light. Fear claws at my insides. “Becca, no!” I shout, but she’s not listening. Her eyes are fixed on Nathaniel and Andrew, her hand steady as she holds the lighter.“Get back!” Becca screams, her voi
The Story of Becca Megra’s eyes are wide with fear, her lips trembling as she pleads. Her voice is a desperate whisper, filled with a panic that only fuels my resolve. She looks so small, so helpless, chained and bound. “Please, Becca,” she begs, her voice cracking. “Why are you doing this? Why?” I pause for a moment, staring at her. My eyes bore into hers, searching, dissecting. It’s like I’m looking right into her soul, seeing every little thing she’s ever taken from me, every single moment she’s made me feel small, insignificant, unwanted. I want her to feel that pain now to understand what she’s done. “I don’t think you should die just yet,” I say slowly, letting the words hang in the air, “without knowing the whole story.” I grab a wooden chair from the corner, dragging it across the floor with a slow, deliberate scrape that echoes through the room. I’m savouring the moment, relishing the fear in her eyes. I set the chair down in front of her and sit, crossing my legs calmly,
The Story of Becca.I watch as Megra cautiously approaches the front door of her Stockton home, her eyes darting around as if she knows someone is watching her. She’s always been so paranoid, always looking over her shoulder. But today, her vigilance won’t save her. Today, she’s all mine.From my car parked across the street, I can see her every move. My heart races with excitement, my breath quickening as I prepare for what’s to come. I’ve waited so long for this moment, planning every detail. She has no idea what’s waiting for her. She thinks she’s safe here, in her own home. How wrong she is.I smile, a dark, twisted smile. She deserves what’s coming to her. After everything she’s done, after everything she’s taken from me, she deserves this. I glance at the metal rod on the seat next to me, my fingers itching to grab it and feel its weight in my hand. I can’t wait any longer. I need to do this now.“She made me do it,” I whisper to myself, my voice filled with venom. “She made me k
NathanielI squeeze Anna’s hand, feeling the coldness of her skin against my own. Her eyes are glassy with pain and fear, but there’s a spark of clarity in them. Her usual well-maintained red hair in knots. She’s been through hell, but I need answers. "Anna," I say softly, leaning closer, "do you know where Becca took Megra?"She shakes her head, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "No," she whispers, her voice trembling. "I don’t know where she took her. I… I wish I did."I swallow back the frustration rising in my throat. "How did you find out it was Becca?" I press, hoping she has more information, something that could help us.Anna closes her eyes for a moment, as if gathering her strength. "I started having my suspicions after I saw the newspaper article," she begins slowly. "The one calling you an adulterer. Only you, Megra, and I knew about… about the divorce, about all of it. But I told Becca, I confided in her… Nathaniel, I thought she was my friend, but now I am sure she leak
NathanielI rush through the hospital doors, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. I have to find out if what happened to Anna has anything to do with Megra's disappearance. I can't shake the feeling that everything is connected—that Megra is in danger, and time is running out."Andrew!" I shout, scanning the crowded hallway, pushing past people as I move further inside. My voice echoes off the sterile walls, blending with the noise of the busy hospital. I see him standing by the nurse's station, his face pale and tight with worry. When he hears me, he turns, and his eyes widen. He rushes over, and I can see the tension in his every step."What the fuck is going on, Nathaniel?" Andrew demands, grabbing my arm, his grip tight, almost bruising. What the hell is happening?""I don't know," I snap, pulling my arm free, my breath coming in ragged bursts. "But that's what I intend to find out." I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Megra got a phone call," I explain