I gazed at my image in the mirror, my fingers clutching the chilled marble of the vanity. The face looking back at me was calm, inscrutable—but underneath, I sensed the tempest brewing. The inquiries. The uncertainty. The truth struggling to emerge, insisting on being recognized. Stella sat behind me with one leg crossed over the other, observing me through the reflection in the mirror. Her fingers tapped on the chair's armrest, her irritation barely held back. "This is completely nonsensical," she whispered, looking disapprovingly. “If you’re the daughter of James West, why doesn’t Granny West just say that?” I exhaled deeply, running my fingers through my hair. “I don't know.” Stella leaned in, placing her elbows on her thighs. "You ought to have the right to inherit the business if he is your father." Honestly, you shouldn't need to act like his widow at all.” I let out a humorless laugh. “And yet, here we are.” She huffed. “Maybe it’s Gregory? Maybe they’re afraid if he fin
The gentle scrape of a crayon on paper resonated in the stillness of my office. Jason sat with his legs crossed on the floor, bent over his newest creation, his tongue just peeking out as he focused. I attempted to concentrate on the figures before me, my fingers moving smoothly over financial statements, yet my thoughts felt sluggish. The dinner that occurred two days prior. Gregory's arrogant expression. The dangers loom over me like a dark storm. “Mommy?” Jason’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Hmm?” I murmured, still scanning the documents. “Why do people keep trying to take your things?” My pen froze mid-stroke. Slowly, I looked up, my heart skipping a beat. Jason wasn’t looking at me—he was still coloring, his small hands carefully shading in the outline of a house. The innocence in his voice made the question hit harder. I swallowed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?” Jason shrugged, still focused on his drawing. “Like Uncle Gregory. And those men who say bad th
When I got home, fatigue enveloped me as if it were a second layer of skin. The day had dragged on, packed with lies, control, and a headache that had taken residence behind my eyes like a bothersome visitor. However, as soon as I entered the room, Jason rushed over to me."Mother!" He threw himself into my embrace, holding me closely. I embraced him in return, pressing my face into his gentle hair. "Hello, darling." “Did you act well today?” Jason pulled back and nodded eagerly. “I practiced my handwriting! Granny helped.” I glanced toward the sitting room, where Granny West was seated in her usual chair, a cup of tea in hand. Her sharp eyes were already on me, studying me like she always did—assessing, calculating. I sighed, giving Jason a soft pat on the back. “Go grab your notebook. I want to see your hard work.” Jason beamed and scurried off. I walked over and sank into the chair across from Granny West. The warmth of home did little to ease the tension coiling in my s
I walked into the boardroom with Stella right behind me, her presence a steady anchor as I prepared for the inevitable confrontation. The tension in the air was immediate, thick, and suffocating. The board members—men and women who had once feigned neutrality—sat stiffly in their leather chairs, their gazes cold and unreadable. The usual whispers of greeting, the polite nods—gone. Gregory sat at the far end of the long table, his fingers tapping lazily against the polished wood, his expression nothing short of pleased. I pulled my shoulders back and took my seat at the head of the table, locking eyes with each member before finally settling on Gregory. “I’m here to discuss the project I ordered to be shut down,” I said coolly. “Yet, despite my direct orders, it’s still bleeding funds. I’d like an explanation.” Gregory leaned forward, his smirk widening. “Oh, we’ll get to that,” he said smoothly. “But first, we need to address something more pressing.” A man to his left
Natalie's POV I smiled in joy and rubbed my stomach happily as I walked into my marital bedroom. It had been three months and my pregnancy was yet to tumble into a miscarriage, like the previous ones. I was glad, even as fear had dung it way into my heart, the fear of yet losing another fetus. It felt like an impending doom. "We are done with the preparation, madam!"One of the maids announced."Ok," I moved closer to the door at the sound of a car. "Did you hear the sound of my husband's car?""Yes, ma'am" I rushed out of the room and into the sitting room as fast as my legs could let me. I didn't want Lucas to walk past the living room before I declared the news he had always wanted to hear. I swallowed, willing myself to breathe as the giant door creaked open. "Happy third anniversary" I announced with a wide smile the moment he walked in. Lucas kept his usual blank expression, and sauntered towards me in quick steps "I would prefer you greet me with happy divorce day instead.
Natalie's POV I squinted my eyes severally to adjust my sight to the luxurious surroundings. My aggressive attempt to move to a sitting position caused a bang to resound across my head, making me wince in discomfort. My reaction caught the attention of two women who were whispering from a distance. "Oh goodness It's been three days!" The younger one exclaimed happily. "My baby" I struggle to speak. "Thankfully, your baby is in a good condition. You don't have to worry about that. I must compliment you. You are really strong. The family doctor will be here very soon," the older woman assured with a warm smile. I sigh in relief as my last encounter with Lucas replayed in my head. A tear slid from my eyes as I bit my lips in determination to get back on my feet, stronger and healthier, mostly for the sake of my unborn kid. My thoughts were distracted by the entrance of an elegantly dressed old woman. The two ladies in the room bowed their heads in greetings as she gracefully walked
Natalie's POV.You can call it a monotonous Monday morning, but it was more than that for me. I was anxious at the thought of being announced as the new CEO of 'West Banking and Finance Enterprise' to the media. Nevertheless, I would rather eat a dead snake than express that weak side of me when the majority of the people encircling the industry would murder themselves to be in my position.The minority is my son, Jason, and Granny West. The two had stood as my wings to keep striving and escaping all death traps set by the West relatives. For four years, I had secretly undergone a series of wide-range business training, and thankfully, it was less tedious to adapt due to my study in business administration when I was in college. A knowledge I was determined to use for Lucas, but he had spurned me terribly and proved me worthless to the extent that I believed I couldn't do anything. For those four years, Granny West had taken over the company and worked with those weak bones of hers w
Natalie's POV A faint smile plastered on my face as I watched the massive hall filled with reputable business people. At the far end were multiple press reporters with their devices on their laps. I was beyond overwhelmed with pride as the announcer called my attention to the podium with several praises of my achievement within a year, and for being capable enough to be the first woman to control the 'West' industry. A resounding claps over balance the place and I waved in return. After waiting for the exhilaration to subside, I gave my speech which I guess impressed everyone, judging from their smiles and applause. The launching of a new bank application that has advanced functions was introduced by the expected employees, and there came the next moment which had to be the press questioning. I walked over to the lectern with my chin raised in confidence even though my palms were sweaty. The world was watching, and my response surely would determine the composure of my reputation.
I walked into the boardroom with Stella right behind me, her presence a steady anchor as I prepared for the inevitable confrontation. The tension in the air was immediate, thick, and suffocating. The board members—men and women who had once feigned neutrality—sat stiffly in their leather chairs, their gazes cold and unreadable. The usual whispers of greeting, the polite nods—gone. Gregory sat at the far end of the long table, his fingers tapping lazily against the polished wood, his expression nothing short of pleased. I pulled my shoulders back and took my seat at the head of the table, locking eyes with each member before finally settling on Gregory. “I’m here to discuss the project I ordered to be shut down,” I said coolly. “Yet, despite my direct orders, it’s still bleeding funds. I’d like an explanation.” Gregory leaned forward, his smirk widening. “Oh, we’ll get to that,” he said smoothly. “But first, we need to address something more pressing.” A man to his left
When I got home, fatigue enveloped me as if it were a second layer of skin. The day had dragged on, packed with lies, control, and a headache that had taken residence behind my eyes like a bothersome visitor. However, as soon as I entered the room, Jason rushed over to me."Mother!" He threw himself into my embrace, holding me closely. I embraced him in return, pressing my face into his gentle hair. "Hello, darling." “Did you act well today?” Jason pulled back and nodded eagerly. “I practiced my handwriting! Granny helped.” I glanced toward the sitting room, where Granny West was seated in her usual chair, a cup of tea in hand. Her sharp eyes were already on me, studying me like she always did—assessing, calculating. I sighed, giving Jason a soft pat on the back. “Go grab your notebook. I want to see your hard work.” Jason beamed and scurried off. I walked over and sank into the chair across from Granny West. The warmth of home did little to ease the tension coiling in my s
The gentle scrape of a crayon on paper resonated in the stillness of my office. Jason sat with his legs crossed on the floor, bent over his newest creation, his tongue just peeking out as he focused. I attempted to concentrate on the figures before me, my fingers moving smoothly over financial statements, yet my thoughts felt sluggish. The dinner that occurred two days prior. Gregory's arrogant expression. The dangers loom over me like a dark storm. “Mommy?” Jason’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Hmm?” I murmured, still scanning the documents. “Why do people keep trying to take your things?” My pen froze mid-stroke. Slowly, I looked up, my heart skipping a beat. Jason wasn’t looking at me—he was still coloring, his small hands carefully shading in the outline of a house. The innocence in his voice made the question hit harder. I swallowed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?” Jason shrugged, still focused on his drawing. “Like Uncle Gregory. And those men who say bad th
I gazed at my image in the mirror, my fingers clutching the chilled marble of the vanity. The face looking back at me was calm, inscrutable—but underneath, I sensed the tempest brewing. The inquiries. The uncertainty. The truth struggling to emerge, insisting on being recognized. Stella sat behind me with one leg crossed over the other, observing me through the reflection in the mirror. Her fingers tapped on the chair's armrest, her irritation barely held back. "This is completely nonsensical," she whispered, looking disapprovingly. “If you’re the daughter of James West, why doesn’t Granny West just say that?” I exhaled deeply, running my fingers through my hair. “I don't know.” Stella leaned in, placing her elbows on her thighs. "You ought to have the right to inherit the business if he is your father." Honestly, you shouldn't need to act like his widow at all.” I let out a humorless laugh. “And yet, here we are.” She huffed. “Maybe it’s Gregory? Maybe they’re afraid if he fin
The quiet hum of the mansion was interrupted by a soft knock on his study door. Lucas barely looked up from his laptop when a maid stepped inside, bowing slightly. “Sir, dinner is ready.” Lucas grunted in recognition, massaging his temples before ultimately closing his laptop. He had devoted the past few hours engulfed in tasks, partly to occupy his mind, partly because there was always additional work awaiting. As he descended the stairs, he sighed as soon as he spotted his mother sitting at the dining table. *Damn it.* If Elizabeth Knight ever sat at the dinner table instead of having her meals brought to her study, it meant *one thing*—she was here to grill him. He barely had time to brace himself before another voice filled the room. “Oh my God, Lucas!” Miranda gasped dramatically, placing a manicured hand over her chest as she looked at him in mock surprise. “When did you get home?” Without looking up, Lucas muttered, “Late last night.” Then, with a pointed glance
Breakfast at the West estate was usually a quiet affair—except when Jason was involved. This morning, he was in full energy mode, bouncing in his seat as he recounted every single detail of last night’s outing. “And then! Then Uncle Ethan let me be the *captain* of the pirate ride! And Lucas—*I mean, Uncle Lucas*—he won me this giant stuffed tiger! And Mommy screamed so loud on the roller coaster, you should’ve heard her, Granny!” I nearly choked on my coffee. “Jason.” Granny West, seated at the head of the long dining table, didn’t even glance at him. No, her sharp, dagger-like gaze was entirely *focused on me*. Mrs. Pat, ever the quiet observer, simply refilled Jason’s glass of orange juice, nodding along to his endless chatter. “Oh, oh! And then the fireworks! They were *so cool*! And—and Uncle Lucas and Uncle Ethan kept fighting! They kept trying to impress Mommy—” I shot up, clamping a hand over his mouth. “Okay, Jason, that’s enough. Finish your breakfast.” He wi
Lucas led the way, his strides purposeful as we exited the café. The cool night air did little to ease the lingering frustration from our conversation. I was still trying to process what had just happened when I spotted two familiar figures heading our way. Jason and Ethan. Jason, still buzzing with excitement, was practically skipping beside Ethan as they made their way toward us. But the moment Ethan spotted Lucas and me together, something flickered in his eyes—mischief, challenge, and something far more irritating. Before I could react, Ethan’s expression shifted dramatically. He rushed toward me, arms wide as if he had just found a long-lost lover. “Natalie! *There* you are,” he exclaimed, wrapping me in an exaggerated hug before I could step away. “I was so *worried* about you. I’ve been searching *everywhere!*” I stiffened. “Ethan, you were literally—” “Hush,” he whispered dramatically, tightening his hold, his voice just loud enough for Lucas to hear. “I don’t know
The park sparkled beneath the evening lights, the brilliance of vibrant bulbs lighting up each ride and walkway. Jason and Ethan were in front of me, sprinting towards a carousel, their laughter mixing with the joyful music playing in the background. I followed behind, my pace lagging as I allowed them their time. Then my phone vibrated, snapping me back to reality. I looked at the display—Stella. “Hi?” I replied quietly while moving to the side to steer clear of the crowd. "Natalie," Stella's voice chimed in, sharp and a bit annoyed. "Where are you located?" And where is Jason? "It's late now, and you still haven't come back." I looked at my watch, understanding just how much time we’d spent here. “I reluctantly confessed, ‘We’re at Disneyland.’” “Disneyland?” Stella's voice was filled with disbelief. "What are you up to over there?" "It's... complex," I replied, massaging my temples. "Let’s just say Ethan came up with a plan, and Jason is enjoying every moment." “Ethan Sterli
The inside of the jet was elegant and opulent, featuring plush leather seating and glossy wood details. Jason had settled in comfortably, bouncing in a chair and pushing every button he could access. Ethan, as always, remained entirely unfazed, reclining in his chair as if this were merely another ordinary day in his bizarre existence. I believed I was the voice of reason amid this chaos—or at least I hoped so. “Hold on a moment,” I replied, looking over the cockpit through the ajar door. “We're lacking something.” “Missing what?” Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow. “The pilot!” I exclaimed, pointing toward the empty seat in the cockpit. Ethan shrugged nonchalantly, standing and making his way toward the controls. “No problem.” “No problem?” I repeated, my voice rising. “What are you doing?” “What does it look like?” he said over his shoulder. “I’m flying us there.” I froze, watching in stunned disbelief as he slid into the pilot’s seat and began flipping switches. “You can’