Hello, everyone! As I mentioned in the previous chapter, from this point on, the story will focus on Alaric. The genre remains adult romance with a touch of thriller. You'll witness Alaric’s growth—from a reckless, spoiled man to someone who undergoes a complete transformation after his time in prison. I’m really excited to write Alaric’s story because, in a way, it feels like finding an oasis after struggling with writer’s block for a while. Please continue to support me! Writing is my escape from the stress of living in this frustrating country 😂 With love Black Pearl 🐈
Alaric’s POVThat night, I didn’t really sleep well.My body was exhausted, but my mind stayed awake—spinning in circles, trying to grasp where I was now. Not in a physical sense, but in terms of my existence.Five years ago, I was someone with a name, influence, and maybe even a bit of pride.Now, I was just a 33-year-old man fresh out of prison. A business graduate from Columbia University with no job, no place to truly call home, and no one by my side.Bernard Vaughn once told me that people like us aren’t given freedom—we have to create it ourselves.But how?By the time morning came, I still didn’t have an answer.I got out of bed, rubbed my eyes, and headed toward the small bathroom in the corner of the room.The mirror was cloudy, with a crack on one side. I stared at my reflection with a bitter sense of realization—a leaner face, a sharper jawline, black hair that had grown down to my neck, and a thin scruff on my chin.Yet somehow, five years in prison had built my body natur
Alaric’s POVFreya Hartley.Once, she was just part of a night I wanted to forget. Now, she was standing in front of me again.She was sexier than I remembered. But her face was thinner, and the sharp glint in her eyes—the one I had seen under the glow of my luxury bedroom lights, the night we first slept together, was gone.I didn’t know if this was a coincidence or some cruel irony the universe had sent to mock me.But one thing was certain, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know her.When the scarred man across the street called her name, Freya took a step toward him. Then, out of nowhere, she turned around and walked straight to me, her lips curling into a smile that never reached her eyes.“I never thought I’d see you again,” she said, her tone flat.I swallowed. “Same.”She let out a small, tired laugh. “So? What now? Are you going to turn your head and pretend we never met?”I stared at her.Once, I might have done exactly that.Once, I did do that.I clenched my fists, trying to und
Alaric’s POVI would rather not get involved. I didn’t want attention. And most of all, I didn’t want to go back to a life filled with violence.But when I saw Freya backed up against a cold brick wall, with a man standing too close, I couldn’t just walk away.I didn’t hear what they were talking about, but the person’s body language said more than any words could. The way he stood, cornering Freya, one hand pressed against the wall beside her face like he had complete control over her.Freya didn’t look scared. Not visibly.She was still the same as I remembered—calm, almost indifferent, with an expression impossible to read. But I knew how people hid fear.I knew because I had done it myself in prison when I was first learning how to survive.I moved before I could think twice.“Freya,” I called out, my voice colder than I intended.The man turned, his expression shifting into something more cautious. He looked me up and down, then smirked like he had just found something amusing.“
Alaric’s POVBlood was the first thing I noticed when the door opened.Just a little. A faint smear at the corner of her lips. But enough to make something inside me go rigid.Freya stood in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself. Her thin coat hung open, revealing a frame that looked smaller than I remembered—too small, as if the world had been stripping pieces of her away, bit by bit.Her eyes met mine. Dark and deep. No anger. No plea for help. Just exhaustion, hanging heavy, like a weight she had carried for far too long.I didn’t ask. I didn’t need an explanation.Likewise, I simply stepped aside, giving her space.Freya moved past me slowly, like every step was heavier than it should be. As the door clicked shut behind her, I could hear the slight hitch in her breath, uneven and restrained.I wanted to ask who did this. Wanted to know why she came here—why she chose this place, chose me. But I knew she wouldn’t answer right away.So I stayed silent.I walked to the small b
Alaric’s POVI thought five years in prison had stripped me of any interest in things that didn’t matter.But I was dead wrong.I could feel it now—the way my body tensed as Freya stepped closer. The faint trace of her perfume lingering in the cramped air of my motel room. The sound of her breathing, nearly audible beneath the steady ticking of the clock on the wall.We stood in the tiny kitchen, just a few steps apart. She had just returned from the convenience store, shrugging off her thin coat, leaving only my oversized t-shirt on her body—the same one she had been wearing since yesterday.And I shouldn’t be looking at her like this.But fuck, as a normal man, it was nearly impossible to tear my eyes away from a woman this sexy.I watched the way my shirt draped loosely over her shoulders, the fabric barely skimming her thighs—just long enough to cover her, but not enough to hide the way her every movement traced the curves of her body.Freya moved deliberately, slowly, like she kn
Alaric’s POVMorning arrived quietly.I couldn’t remember the last time I woke up to the sound of someone else breathing in the same room as me.Freya was still asleep on the bed, her back facing me, her breathing steady. The sunlight streaming through the window cast a golden hue over her messy hair, making her look softer than I remembered.Maybe it was better to be fooled by that softness. Because Freya wasn’t weak.I let out a slow breath and stood up from the chair where I had spent most of the night. I had briefly laid down on the bed to help her fall asleep, but once she was out, I moved back to the chair.My back ached from the stiff position, but it wasn’t anything new. I was used to hard beds and restless nights. Prison had trained me well for that.I grabbed a clean shirt from my bag and headed to the small bathroom in the corner.When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I barely recognized the man staring back at me.Dark circles under my eyes. A sharper jawline than fiv
Alaric’s POVI never thought I’d see her again. Selene always had a way of showing up at the worst possible moments.I was washing glasses in the restaurant kitchen when her familiar, sickly sweet voice hit me harder than any punch I’d ever taken.“Hi, Alaric.”Two words. But enough to make my entire body go rigid.I shut my eyes, inhaled slowly, then turned around.Selene looked exactly as I remembered. Her dark hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, her lips painted a deep shade of red, her figure even thinner than the last time I saw her. But her eyes—eyes that had once made me fall were as calculating as ever.The way she looked at me hadn’t changed. Like I was a mistake she wanted to fix.I set down the glass in my hand, dried my fingers on a towel, and leaned back against the counter.“What are you doing here?”She stepped closer, moving with the same effortless grace as before. “I’m getting treatment at a clinic nearby. Heard you’ve been working here since getting out o
Freya’s POVI once believed I was immune to shame, but I was mistaken.I found myself standing under the harsh neon lights of the nightclub, surrounded by the pulsating music, clinking glasses, and drunken laughter. Dozens of eyes were fixed on me, but it was only one pair that sent a chill down my spine.She stood at the entrance, poised like a queen entering her throne room. Her black dress hugged her body perfectly, her lips painted a deep red, her hair styled to perfection. She had always looked like someone who had everything, and made sure everyone else knew they had nothing.She smiled slowly and calculatedly, wanting me to feel small. And damn it, she succeeded.I tightened my grip around the bottle in my hand, steadying the slight tremor in my fingers. I refused to show weakness. Not in front of her. Not in front of anyone.She walked towards me with a calm confidence, as if she held the power to command the entire room. And perhaps, in her own way, she truly did.“I was cur
Alaric's POVI never thought this moment would come so soon.Three years ago, I watched Freya fill out her university application form with trembling hands, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear.I remember the long nights she spent with books scattered across the table, working on essays and projects with unwavering determination.And now, here I stand in the grand hall of New York University, dressed in a crisp black suit, watching her name appear on the big screen as the valedictorian.Freya Verity, Bachelor of Communication—Top Graduate of the Year.I look up at the stage where she stands, clad in a black graduation gown and a gold sash signifying her achievements. The spotlight casts a soft glow on her face, and for a brief moment, time seems to stop.She did it.She made it.And I have never felt prouder in my entire life.Beside me, Hero sits in his small chair, wearing the miniature suit Freya picked out for him, complete with a slightly crooked bow tie. He tries to sit
Alaric's POVI never imagined my life would turn out like this.I used to think I would always be the kind of man who only knew how to survive—content with cooking in a small restaurant kitchen, satisfied with a modest paycheck, and avoiding anything remotely connected to the Verity name. Furthermore, I thought I would remain the man who rejected his past, carving out his own path without ever looking back.But three years later, my life had thoroughly changed.Now, I stood in the penthouse suite of Verity Hotel, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, my tie discarded hours ago. The city lights of New York shimmered beyond the massive windows, casting a golden glow into the room.On the sofa, a small two-year-old boy slept soundly, his tiny arms wrapped around a stuffed bear. His breathing was soft, his face peaceful, as if the world around him wasn’t full of chaos.Hero Verity. My son.I still remembered when Freya chose that name. “Because he's our hero, Alaric. H
Freya's POVI had never felt happiness quite as terrifying as this before.There was still a part of me trying to process all the changes happening so fast—going back to college, finding a new rhythm in life, and now carrying another life inside me.But if there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that I wasn’t doing any of it alone.I watched Alaric from across the room as he stood in the kitchen, his back straight as he cooked over the stove. The scent of eggs and toast filled the air, wrapping the space in a warmth that was oddly comforting.Leaning against the doorway, I crossed my arms and observed him.Who would’ve thought that the same man who once lived in darkness could look so at home in a kitchen like this?“I still can’t believe you’re actually making me breakfast,” I finally said, breaking the morning silence.Alaric glanced over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m not letting you skip breakfast again. Especially now, since you’re eating for two.”I pouted.
Freya's POVI’ve realized something over the past few days.Love alone isn’t enough.Love is the foundation, but what keeps it standing is commitment—the courage to choose each other every single day, through the good and the bad.And now, I’m at a point where I need to make sure that Alaric and I aren’t just in love, but that we’re also moving in the same direction.I sat on the couch, holding the ultrasound results we’d just gotten yesterday. Our baby. Still so tiny, but its presence was real. Its existence changed everything—not just for me, but for Alaric too.I heard the sound of the door opening, followed by familiar footsteps. Alaric had just returned from a meeting with his father. He’d mentioned it was about the inheritance he was set to receive.As soon as he saw me, he walked over, kissed the top of my head, and then dropped onto the couch beside me.“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice soft.I turned to him, offering a small smile. “A little nauseous this morning, bu
Freya’s POVI sat at the edge of the bed, one hand resting on my stomach. My fingers traced over the still-flat surface of my skin, as if trying to grasp the reality of what I had just learned.I was pregnant with Alaric’s child.I repeated it in my head, trying to let the words sink in. This was real. It wasn’t just a possibility or a joke from a faulty test.The doctor had confirmed it—I was carrying Alaric’s baby. And somehow, ever since that moment, the world felt like it was moving in slow motion.I lifted my head, my gaze falling on Alaric, who stood by the bedroom door, arms crossed over his chest. He was watching me with an unreadable expression—a mixture of awe, relief, and something deeper that I couldn’t quite define.“Are you still in shock?” His voice was low, almost gentle.I let out a breath and nodded slowly. “Of course. I just found out a few hours ago that there’s a tiny human growing inside me.”A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he stepped closer and
Alaric's POVI’ve faced a lot in my life.Life in prison, betrayal, losing people I considered family. Even surviving the criminal underworld that nearly swallowed me whole.I’ve been on the brink of destruction, standing between life and death more times than I can count.But none of that could have prepared me for what I just heard.“Congratulations, Mr. Verity. Your partner is pregnant. She’s about eight weeks along.”I froze in place like an idiot.The doctor’s voice echoed in the room, but my brain seemed to stop functioning. I stared at the blood test results in my hand. The numbers should have made sense, but right now, they just felt like a jumble of meaningless symbols.I had to lean on the desk because, for the first time in my life, my knees almost gave out.Freya… pregnant?I took a deep breath, trying to regain my focus. “Are you sure?” My voice came out hoarser than I expected.The doctor smiled, unfazed by my reaction. “We ran the test twice to confirm. All signs point
Freya's POVI’ve always loved the atmosphere of classes at NYU. The lecture halls are spacious, modern, and filled with students who are just as passionate as I am.Professor Callahan, who teaches Media, Culture, and Society, is the kind of academic who’s both brilliant and insightful. His voice is confident as he explains how media shapes social perceptions. Popular culture isn’t just entertainment—it’s a social phenomenon with a profound impact on everyday life.I listened intently, jotting down key points in my notebook. But today felt different.Since this morning, my body had been feeling a little off.I woke up with an uncomfortable sensation in my stomach. It wasn’t exactly pain, but more like waves of nausea that came and went.At first, I thought it was just the usual nervousness I feel before heading to class. I’m the type of person who’s always excited, and sporadically that excitement turns into a bit of anxiety.But this time was different.I swallowed hard, trying to ign
Freya’s POVI stood on the balcony of our apartment, letting the cool night breeze brush against my skin. Below me, New York pulsed with life—city lights scattered like stars, distant honks and the faint hum of the city still audible despite the late hour.Leaning against the railing, I hugged myself and gazed at the skyline.I should be in bed, but my mind was too restless.Today, I had finalized all my administrative paperwork for college. I had my class schedule, my student ID, and had even spent the last few hours reading through reference materials for my first course.I should be proud of myself. But there was an unsettling feeling in my chest: a quiet anxiety I couldn’t fully understand.The sound of the sliding door opening behind me pulled me from my thoughts, followed by familiar footsteps. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Alaric.He didn’t say anything, just stood beside me, resting his hands on the railing, his sharp green eyes focused on the city.I glanced at
Freya’s POVI stared at my reflection in the mirror, letting out a slow, deep breath.This morning, I wore a peach blouse, paired with loose white pants that draped comfortably around my legs. On my feet were white flats adorned with delicate floral accents— a gift from Alaric. I completed the look with a cross-body bag filled with books and pens.Today marked the beginning of something new.I had officially enrolled at New York University (NYU), choosing to major in Communication Studies with a Bachelor of Science in Media, Culture.I was rebuilding my life, choosing not just to be someone who had survived her past but someone who was actively shaping her own future.Alaric had never tried to change me. Instead, he always made sure I had the freedom to be myself.I checked my natural-looking makeup, ran my fingers through my shoulder-length hair to fix it, and then stepped out of the bedroom, finding Alaric already waiting for me.He was standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup