Freya’s POVI shouldn’t feel safe in a place I’ve only been for five days. I should stay alert, stay restless. But there’s something about Lucas’s small restaurant—the scent of coffee and tacos lingering in the air—that makes me feel at ease.One night wasn’t enough to figure out a plan to take Vince down. We were still stuck in calculations and half-formed strategies, and time was running out.Alaric kept working as usual, but his position had changed. He now worked in the back of the restaurant, away from prying eyes, afraid that one of Vince’s men might recognize him. I knew he hated hiding like this.I sat on one of the wooden chairs by the window, watching the morning light slowly creep in. Outside, the city remained the same—loud, chaotic, indifferent to the people struggling to survive within it.I let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of my neck. Last night had felt endless. I only managed to fall asleep after Alaric told me about his past—his life in prison.We had held eac
Freya’s POVWe had just arrived at the place Lucas mentioned. I had expected some run-down, dimly lit warehouse, but instead, I found a sleek, modern Mexican-style house—hiding something far more dangerous beneath its surface.In the basement, rows of metal shelves lined the walls, stacked with boxes of ammunition and an arsenal of weapons. The air was thick with the scent of metal and oil, blending with the damp, earthy smell of the underground space.A shiver ran down my spine. This wasn’t just a hideout. This was an armory.“Long-range fights rely on pistols, so we need extra ammo,” I murmured, my eyes on Alaric as he carefully sorted bullets, slipping them into the designated slots in his tactical vest.“Exactly,” he replied without looking up. “But in this situation, where we’re outnumbered, taking out the head of the organization is the priority. I’m not wasting time fighting Vince’s men one by one.”Alaric was always like this—calm, composed, even in situations that would make
Freya’s POVI should be afraid. I should feel the cold fear creeping up my spine as I stood here, face to face with the man who had spent years slowly destroying my life.But all I felt was rage.“I came here to end this and walk away for good,” I said, my voice steady, unwavering.Vince straightened up, crossed one leg over the other, and studied me with unsettling interest. “End this?”I nodded. “I’m not working for you anymore. I won’t live under your control.”Silence hung thick in the air. Vince flicked his fingers, signaling to the two guards behind him, and they immediately stepped forward.He stared at me for a long moment before shaking his head slowly, like a man humoring a child’s foolish imagination.“Oh, Freya.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “Who put this ridiculous idea in your head?”His gaze shifted to Alaric, and his smile widened slightly.“Of course,” he mused, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You still believe that someone like him can save you?”Alaric said no
Freya's POV“I want to go back to my apartment. It's been two days since I last went home,” I said as I buttoned up my pink blouse.Alaric emerged from the kitchen, placing a bowl of fruit on the table before silently walking over to me. His arms wrapped around my waist from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. His warmth enveloped me, almost making me forget my initial plan to leave.“I'll take you,” he whispered in my ear, his voice deep and lazy, as if he had no intention of letting me out of his apartment.I let out a soft laugh, trying to turn around, but his embrace only tightened. This was his usual morning routine—clingy, sticking to me wherever I went, kissing me as if I might disappear if he didn’t.“Alaric…” I tried to loosen his grip, but he only held me tighter.“Stay a little longer. I still miss you,” he murmured, gently kissing my neck.“Hey… we already did it last night. You’re never satisfied, are you?” I closed my eyes as his lips brushed against my skin, leavin
Freya's POVI once thought I didn’t have the courage to do something like this. That just imagining it would be enough to make me sick.But I was wrong.I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror of my small apartment. My face was pale, my brown eyes darker under the dim light. I no longer saw the girl who used to be afraid of evens her shadow. The person staring back at me was someone ready to claim her own freedom—no matter how much blood it took.The folding knife felt cold against my palm.Lucas had given it to me, days ago, and since then, I had only stared at it, questioning whether I’d ever actually use it. But now, there was no doubt.I took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs before slowly exhaling. My hands still trembled slightly, but not from fear. It was adrenaline.I slipped the knife into my jacket pocket and stepped out of the room.Alaric was already in the living room, sitting on the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, fists clenched tight. He
Freya's POVThe club was loud. Not just your average loud—the music pounded like a sledgehammer in my chest, syncing with my rapidly quickening pulse. Multicolored lights flashed wildly overhead, illuminating the sea of unfamiliar faces dancing and downing drinks as if tonight were just another ordinary night.Lucas moved ahead, slipping through the crowd with the ease of someone who’d done this too many times before. He signaled to a few people who immediately melted into the shadows. His eyes and ears, the ones who made sure tonight went according to plan.Alaric and I walked straight through, heading directly for the staircase leading to the upper floor.Two guards stood there. Rigid, alert, their gazes sharp like hawks sensing danger.“What’s your business?” one of them asked, his tone flat but laced with threat. His right hand slowly crept toward his waist, ready to draw his weapon at any moment.I didn’t give him the chance. Before he could pull his gun, I was already moving. My
Freya’s POVI thought that after that night, everything would feel lighter. I thought freedom would come with the kind of relief that saves you. But it turns out, it’s not that simple.I stand on the small balcony of Alaric’s apartment, letting the morning air bite against my bare skin. The city stirs awake in the distance, the sky slowly shifting from darkness to a faint blue. Golden light seeps between the towering buildings, but I remain here, unmoving.Trying to feel something. But all I find is emptiness.I exhale slowly, biting my lip, letting the hollowness creep into my mind. I was so desperate to escape, to be free from the chains that had bound me all these years. Nevertheless, now that I am, I feel unmoored.I can’t stay here forever. Alaric’s apartment isn’t a shelter for people like me.He never asked me to leave. Never made me feel unwanted. However, I know better than to become a burden in his life.He’s already sacrificed enough to protect me. I don’t want him to keep
Freya's POVI swear, leaving behind something that has become a part of you is the hardest thing in the world.I've been standing in front of Alaric’s apartment door for the past fifteen minutes. A small suitcase sits beside my feet, my trembling hand gripping the doorknob. I’ve made up my mind to leave, but why does it feel impossible to actually push the door open?“Freya.”That voice makes me look up.Alaric stands in the doorway to the balcony, leaning casually as if nothing is happening. But I know better. He’s been reading this situation from the start. I don’t even have to tell him.The summer sunlight washes over his sharp features. He’s only wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans—a simple look that somehow makes him even more irresistible. His once-long hair is now shorter after I cut it last night. The stubble on his jaw is gone too, thanks to my insistence, because honestly, if I waited for him to realize he needed grooming, it would take a miracle.I swallow hard, trying
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