l The warmth of sunlight streaming through his curtains rouses Kingsley. He looks at his bedside clock and pauses, blinking against the light. 10:02 a.m. He spits out a series of expletives and sits up. He had overslept—badly. It is unheard of for someone as fastidious as Kingsley to get up after 7 AM. But while just sitting there, a strange sense of peace takes the place of pressure. He relives the events of the night before, the agony of unresolved issues, Louisa's steadfast support for him, and Ken Tyler's quiet, sage advice. It had been like letting go of a breath he had been holding for years when he decided to fully accept his feelings for Louisa. He had slept better than he had in several years as a result of this freeing decision. Maybe it is a sign rather than just fatigue. He swings his legs out of bed and thinks, “This is it!” Kingsley's typically rushed stride holds a bounce when he finally makes it to the company. He is unfazed by the usual work chaos
Cordelia stumbles back, trying to take in what had happened while her palm springs to her face. "You dare!?" Marie's eyes are burning with rage as she snarls. Stunned, Cordelia blinks, the punch burning her cheek. "Madam—" “What gives you the right to remain here?” Marie's voice rises as she asks. She moves closer to Cordelia, her hand up for another blow. Cordelia, however, is prepared this time. Her quick reflexes from previous interactions allow her to grab Marie's wrist before the slap can strike. Her eyes meet Marie's in defiance, and she holds on with a powerful but controlled hold. Cordelia murmurs, "Enough," in a steady voice that belies the excitement pulsing through her body. "You dare!" Marie growls as she attempts to pry her fingers away. "How could I?" Cordelia replies, finally letting go of Marie's hand. “With due respect, Mrs. Craig, this is not a boxing ring; this is a workplace. Don't touch me again, but if you have something to say, say it.”
With each step echoing her rage, Marie sprints out of Modu Tech, her heels hitting the shiny floor like bullets. She can still picture Cordelia's arrogant comments, her rebellious stance, and her smug expression. Not only is Cordelia having an affair with her husband, but she is also refusing to quit her father's business despite being dismissed. Marie's anger boils to the surface. The wintry breeze nips at her cheeks as she leaves the building, but she doesn't bat an eye. Tom, her driver, is waiting and looks anxiously as he opens the door of the elegant black vehicle. Without saying anything, she slides into the rear seat. "Home, ma'am?" Tom takes a chance. "Just drive!" she yells in a cold tone. Tom remains silent. Modu Tech is left behind when the automobile draws away. With precise tapping of her manicured nails, Marie grabs her phone out of her high-end purse. She combs through her contacts until she comes to a name that has just one mysterious symbol: ★
There is a lot of silence on the trip back to the hospital—not a deafening silence, but one that allows for reflection. With a gentle, lingering grin on her lips, Linda sits in the passenger seat, staring at the passing surroundings. Ever the perceptive one, Stanley gives her a quick look while driving. She appears strangely relaxed for someone who had been tense and unhappy all morning. Stanley finally breaks the stillness since he can't contain his curiosity any longer. "So, are you going to tell me what miraculous event happened back there?" he asks nonchalantly, his gaze still fixed on the road. “Or should I begin to speculate?” Startled out of her musings, Linda blinks. She presses her lips into a thin line as if to wipe the smile away. She feigns ignorance, "Stanley, I have no idea what you're talking about." Stanley looks at her once more and laughs as he says, " Oh please. Before we arrived at Fred's residence, you were essentially pouting. But you're sitting he
Fred lays in bed silently, gazing up at the ceiling. Through his partially open window, the chilly night air filters in the subtle aroma of rain. In contrast to the ragged breaths of the morning, his chest rises and falls steadily. Thanks to Linda and Dr. Stanley's visit, he is emotionally and medically stable. He feels lighter, even better, although his mind keeps returning to Louisa and the quarrel that had caused him to almost lose his mind. The sharp edges of the anguish are blunted, but the recollection still hangs there. The shock had been lessened by Linda's surprise visit, which calmed his jangled nerves. However, he still cannot cannot ignore his nagging suspicion about Linda and Stanley's relationship. They seem to have gotten even more comfortable with each other, and it makes him feel uneasy, but considering his recent experience with Louisa, he decides to take the lesson and let things happen naturally. He eyes the phone on his nightstand as he rolls onto
Louisa's breathing becomes labored. She experiences a range of feelings, including disbelief, thankfulness, rage, and relief. "Evelyn told you?" she asks in a frustrated tone. "And she didn't think to let me know that she would?" "I apologize. Kingsley hurriedly remarks, "I know this is sudden," and steps in her direction. "I had decided to let go of the past regardless of what the truth was and once I listened to Evelyn, I couldn't stay still or keep quiet any longer. How have you been able to live for the past five years? How did you cope?” He asks, his tone obvious with wonder. Her feelings are leaking out as she shakes her head. "Kingsley, I know you believed I was someone I'm not. And you wouldn't listen, so I couldn't even explain.” "I understand," he murmurs, regret weighing heavily in his voice. “And for that, I despise myself. Back then, I ought to have let you explain. But I was furious and upset. I was unable to look past my emotions.” Louisa maintains eye co
The buzz of the New York night replaces the hiss of the airplane doors opening. She appears, powerful but hidden, an unmistakable presence. Oversized sunglasses protect her eyes even though there is no sunlight, and a silk scarf, beautifully wrapped beneath her chin, covers the sharp features of her face. Her heels click quietly on the shiny airport floor as she strolls with the kind of grace that attracts attention effortlessly. As she steps out into the clean, cool air, her luggage, a simple set of leather-bound bags, slides after her. She halts on the curb for a time, breathing deeply and tilting her face skyward. She acknowledges privately that she is home, and the tiniest hint of a smile pulls at her lips. Or maybe not quite at home. Not quite yet. She glances at the line of yellow cabs idling nearby, the city lights dancing in her sunglasses. She flags one down with a single elegant wave. With its tires screeching on the wet pavement, the cab arrives. She
With deliberate resolve, Louisa walks confidently into the office building, her shoes sounding on the shiny floors. Her other hand was clasped at her side while she gripped her bag firmly in the other. As she walks to Evelyn's office, Louisa hardly notices the hesitant smile the receptionist gives her. Evelyn's neatly arranged desk is illuminated by the early morning light streaming in through the wide glass windows. After setting her purse aside, Louisa inhales deeply and sits down in Evelyn's chair. She seems to be intentionally and symbolically seizing this place. She is waiting for round two after sitting here yesterday to unsettle Evelyn. Slowly, time tickles by. Under her calm appearance, Louisa's emotions are simmering, and she practices her thoughts to make sure she won't falter. The calm is finally broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. Evelyn opens the door but remains in the doorway when she observes Louisa seated at her desk again, her face chan
Kingsley's lavish mansion is illuminated by the golden rays of the setting sun, creating a fascinating atmosphere for Liam's fifth birthday celebration. Music, laughter, and the vivid hues of balloons and streamers fills the garden. With endless energy, a few children run around, their laughter mingling with the gentle murmur of adult conversation. With his arm loosely around Louisa's waist in a romantic manner, Kingsley steps close to the imposing fountain. They share a look that says it all: years of hardships, miscommunications, and heartache has brought them to this point, stronger and more in love than ever. Their entire world revolves around their baby, Liam, and this day is a celebration of both his life and their family's tenacity. As she watches Liam blow out his candles in front of his young buddies, Louisa murmurs, "Look at him," in a proud tone. "He's very happy. So deserving, he has been a strong boy.” Kingsley answers with a gentle kiss on her temple. "Just
"Martha?" Louisa calls in a scarcely discernible whisper. Martha stands there with a serene face and inquisitive gaze. "Louisa," she says quietly. Louisa feels fear take hold of her chest. How did Martha even know her house? Yeah well, she probably asked Evelyn. But why did she have to visit now of all times? Kingsley is inside her house, even though she had assured Martha that she would let go of him only a few hours earlier. Martha may misinterpret things if she sees him with her. But before Louisa can come up with an excuse, to dismiss Martha or go out with her, Kingsley speaks. "Who is it?" The sound of Kingsley's footsteps approaching was followed by his voice coming from behind her. Louisa's face becomes pale as she turns slightly. "It is….” When Kingsley comes into view, he spots Martha standing at the door, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Martha?" Martha's expression is unreadable as her eyes darts between them. Now knowing the reason for Louisa's sh
Kingsley's heart races in his chest as he stands outside Louisa's apartment. He had been pacing his living room for hours, struggling with his feelings. Ultimately, though, he knows he has to speak with Louisa. They have to be together, no matter what happens. Louisa's face changes from surprise to a kind of reserved resignation as she opens the door. Silently, she moves out of the way to let him in. "Daddy!" Before Kingsley can speak, Liam's voice calls excitedly, his face lighting up with unbridled excitement as he rushes into Kingsley's legs. Kingsley kneels down and embraces Liam tightly. "Hey son. You were missed.” "I also missed you! Will you be here for dinner? Liam questions, hope glimmering in his eyes. With a gentle giggle, Kingsley runs a hand through Liam's hair. "No son, not tonight. But you need to go spend some time playing in your room, okay? I must speak with your mother.” Liam pauses, looking from one parent to the other. "All right, but promise y
Fred had been getting ready for the evening all day. He had selected one of the best bars in the city, renowned for its quiet jazz, cozy atmosphere, and wine selection that would please even the pickiest connoisseur. He had gone above and beyond by placing an advance order for Linda's favorite meal and a bottle of wine that she had mentioned in passing months prior during a conversation at work. Fred is early, straightening his tie and gazing around the table he had reserved at the window, which overlooks the lights of the city. It has to be flawless. Fred's breath sticks in his throat as Linda enters, looking stunning. She accessorized her figure-hugging black dress with subtle jewelry that gleams in the low light. Fred's pulse skips a beat as her hair falls over her shoulders and she walks with assurance. Her voice is pleasant, yet tinged with suspicion as she says, "Fred. It looks so good in here, " as she looks around, admiring the bar. Fred gets up and drags her
Standing before Martha's hotel suite door, Louisa pauses. She knocks softly after her knuckles briefly hover over the glossy wood. The door opens as the faint sound of footfall nears, and Martha appears, her face instantly changing from one of surprise to one of cautious mistrust. "Louisa?" Martha's hand tightens on the doorframe as she speaks sharply. "How are you aware of my lodging arrangements?" Louisa smiles slightly, disarmingly. "Martha, you're my friend. Even if you don't want me to, I would be aware of your location. Martha pauses, obviously surprised by the answer, but her skepticism remains unshaken. Reluctantly, she moves aside to let Louisa in. It is a tidy, impersonal room, the sort of transitory place that is less like a home and more like a waiting room. Louisa calmly and deliberately sits down in one of the window-facing chairs. Martha crosses her arms and stays upright. "Louisa, why are you here?" Martha speaks in a clipped tone. "You're wasting
Although Louisa is hardly aware of it, the R&D department at Palmer Tech is bustling as usual. The cursor on her computer screen is blinking impatiently as she sits at her desk and stares blankly. Her team is busy around her, talking about testing plans and prototypes, but their voices are muffled by the flurry of ideas racing through her head. "Miss Emerson?" A hesitant voice pierces her fog. One of her less experienced developers, Carter, is clutching a tablet. "I want to present the project's revised design specifications to you. I believe we've resolved the—” "Have you checked it again?" Louisa abruptly interrupts him with a snap. Carter blinks in surprise at her tone. "Yeah, but I figured you'd like to—" "Why bring it to me if you think it is good enough? Carter, do your job. I don't have time to obsess over every little thing.” There is silence in the room. Carter takes a step back, holding the iPad as her crew exchange suspicious looks. “I apologize. I'll che
With her mind full of unrelenting thoughts, Louisa frantically packs Liam's school bag as the morning light streams through the curtains. Simultaneously, her hands tucked in a folder of his drawings, a lunchbox, and a water bottle. With his unlimited enthusiasm, Liam, who is already wearing his school uniform, dances about the living room behind her. "Mom! I'm ready!” Liam yells. Louisa looks at the clock and says, "Just a minute, sweetheart." They are late. The doorbell rings as she zips the bag closed and sets it on the table. "I'll get it, Mom!" Liam shouts and runs to the door. "Hold on, Liam!" Louisa begins, but he has already flung it open. "Uncle Hardy!" Liam shouts, his voice full of happiness. "You're here!" Louisa's forehead furrows as she turns. Hardy's towering body fills the entryway as he stands there. There is a glimmer of something in his eyes that Louisa can't quite identify, but he is grinning as usual. "Hey, Liam!" Hardy ruffles his hair. "Ho
Evelyn rests her head on John's chest as she nestles up against him on his soft sofa. Soft music hums in the background and the room is filled with the warmth of the fireplace. John put an arm around her, his fingers idly making patterns on her shoulder while they laughed quietly at a ridiculous story from the day before. However, when the laughing subsides, John becomes aware of Evelyn's aloof expression. He tilts his head to gaze at her and remarks, "You're quiet tonight," gently. "Are you still concerned about us? Or is it about my family again?” With a slight smile on her lips, Evelyn shakes her head. "No, John, you are everything I desire, and regarding your family, I have already made up my mind. I will do whatever it takes to defend our love. That matter has been resolved.” John's hand moves to tuck a stray hair behind her ear as his lips form an excited smile. "That's my girl. As courageous and unyielding as ever.” His voice lowers to a playful whisper as he plants
The rumpled blankets are evidence of Kingsley's restless night as he sleeps, sprawled over his bed. Except for the dim golden light that filters through the borders, the room is dark and subdued, due to the closed drapes. The floor is littered with empty champagne bottles, a silent reminder of his fruitless attempts to block out his thoughts. His tie dangles loosely from the bedpost, and his suit jacket is crumpled in one area. He is startled out of his wits by a knock on the door. Unwilling to confront anyone, he moans, but the knock is louder this time. "Boss? It's Hardy. Are you inside?” Kingsley rubs his hand over his scruffy face and mumbles a curse. "Come in," he rasps at last. With a creak, the door opens, and Hardy enters, his worried features inscribed on his face. He looks around the room right away, soaking in the commotion. The bottles, the messy bed, and his boss's rumpled appearance present a picture that is very different from the calm and authoritat