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I stare at the small plastic stick on the bathroom counter, waiting. The instructions said to wait three minutes, but I’ve been here for over five, anxiously hoping for two lines that still haven’t appeared. I let out a loud breath, my shoulders sagging in disappointment.There’s nothing. Not even a faint shadow of a second line.“Of course, there’s nothing,” I whisper to myself, a harsh laugh escaping my lips. “Why did I even bother?”I know I can’t be pregnant. There’s been no missed period, or sex that could have led to this. I haven’t been with Mike in months, and Ric... well, Ric and I haven’t gotten that far, even if my mind has wandered there. So why did I even take the test?I scoff, tossing the stick into the trash can. “Stupid,” I mutter under my breath, wiping my hands on a towel before glancing in the mirror. My eyes are glassy, and I blink back the tears that have formed.Was it because of Mike? His stupid confession about Hayley — his mistress — being pregnant... It had s
I lean back in the car seat, my fingers tapping against my thigh, trying to distract myself from the gnawing feeling in my chest. The city flashes by in a blur, but I’m too distracted by my own thoughts to really notice. Next to me, Meera huffs for the third time in as many minutes, clearly annoyed. I glance at her, raising an eyebrow, waiting for her to spill whatever is on her mind. She doesn’t disappoint.“You know, I've had to take all your calls since you literally threw your phone away,” she finally complains, her voice tinged with annoyance. “And I mean all of them.”I give a small shrug, not particularly moved by her annoyance. "All those calls are professional, Meera. You’re paid to handle them. It’s part of your job."She stares at me with a scowl. "You can’t be serious, Nat. Professional calls are one thing, but what about your personal life? You can’t just ghost the world, pretending it doesn’t exist."I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "What personal life? Who do I
I approach the front desk with a small smile, feeling every ounce of confidence in the way my heels click against the polished marble floors before meeting the receptionist's gaze as she greets me with professional politeness.“I’d like to see Richard Steward,” I say, keeping my tone smooth, almost casual.The receptionist blinks, clearly taken aback by the request, though she masks her surprise quickly. “Richard Steward?” she asks, as if confirming she heard right. “The CEO?”“That’s right,” I nod, giving her a faint smile that I know conveys I won’t take no for an answer.There’s a brief pause as she processes this, then she asks, “And may I tell him who’s asking?”“Tell him it’s Elliot Jones’ daughter,” I reply, watching her reaction closely. There’s a flicker of recognition and maybe a hint of intrigue in her eyes, but she keeps her expression neutral. She picks up the phone and makes a quick call, her voice low and professional. When she hangs up, she meets my gaze with a practis
As we sit there after having swallowed each other’s moans, I’m still wrapped up in Ric, my arms around his neck, body pressed against his as he leans back in his office chair. He runs a finger slowly down my bare back, sending little sparks through me as he plants soft kisses along my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin. I chuckle, breaking the comfortable silence, looking around the office and the mess we’ve made.“We made quite a mess, didn’t we?” I grin, glancing back at him.He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine with a look that’s both warm and a little mischievous. “A mess I’d happily make every day,” he says, his voice low and rough, sending another little thrill through me as he leans in to kiss me again. His kiss is so soft and gentle that I find myself questioning if this is the same guy who minutes ago whispered ‘mine’ in my ears with every thrust. He trails light circles on my back, and I just let myself feel the soft intimacy of the moment, so different from the in
Stepping out of the building, I brace myself for what could be an earful, maybe even the sight of an empty parking space where the car used to be. But there it is, parked exactly where I left it hours ago. The only difference? The windows are tightly shut, as though it’s a world all its own.I stride over, heels clicking against the pavement, and tap on the passenger window with a raised eyebrow. The window rolls down, revealing Meera’s face – looking amused and just the tiniest bit annoyed.“You’re back already?” she says, arms folded with mock surprise.Inside, Matt’s sprawled out in the driver’s seat, eyes glued to her tablet that’s propped up on the dashboard. He’s got one hand in a bucket of popcorn on his lap like he’s having his own little movie night. I blink, momentarily taken aback, before a laugh slips out.“Seriously? You two are watching a movie?”Meera shrugs. “You were in there long enough to justify it. Had to pass the time somehow.” She pauses, glancing at me with tha
I barely make it to the top of the steps when the front door swings open, and Aunt Lizzie is standing there, blinking in surprise. “Natalie?” She presses a hand to her chest, her face etched with concern. I didn’t inform her that I’d come, so this reaction is justified and expected — especially given how I haven’t come to visit her in years. But I’m feeling good, so I give her a bright smile, hoping it will help her relax.“Hey, Aunt Lizzie. Hope it’s alright I’m here?” I say with a light shrug.She looks me up and down, finally matching my smile, although hesitantly. “Alright? Of course it is, honey! You know you’re welcome here anytime.” She studies my face, a hint of worry still lingering in her gaze. “But everything’s good?”“Better than good,” I assure her, giving her a quick hug. “I just thought I’d drop by... reconnect a little, you know?”The worry melts into a warm grin. She takes my arm, leading me into the house, her heels clicking softly against the marble floors. “Well, re
I smirk. “It’s simple. For every piece of clothing you take off, I’ll take one off too.”Ric chuckles, clearly interested. “Now you’re speaking my language.” Without missing a beat, he shrugs off his suit jacket, tossing it out of frame. In response, I slowly slip one strap of my nightgown off my shoulder, watching his reaction as his eyes darken even further.“Your turn,” I mumble, feeling a shiver of arousal run through me as he undoes his tie, slowly pulling it off and letting it drop. I follow suit by slipping the other strap down, the silk pooling around my waist, revealing the bare skin of my shoulders and collarbones. “You’re driving me crazy, Natalie,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire.“Good,” I tease as I let the nightgown slide lower, uncovering my toned thighs. Ric’s lips twitch, and I hear him sigh heavily, reaching for the top button of his shirt and slowly undoing it, then another, his fingers working down as his shirt opens up. “Your move,” he says, his gaze ne
The city stretches out in all directions, a sea of miniature buildings beneath me as I stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows in my father’s office, looking out. The early morning light bounces off the skyscrapers, adding a bit of shine to the greyness below, but I’m barely noticing. I cross my arms, sighing as I watch the clock on the wall. “So… he’s really not coming, huh?”I let the words hang in the air, half hoping for something, even if I knew better. I hadn’t tried reaching out to him — of course not. And he hadn’t given me the slightest hint he’d show up, so I have no reason to feel surprised. Still, some part of me, somewhere deeper than I’d care to admit, held onto the hope he’d at least check in on his only daughter. Ask if I was prepared or… something. Next to me, Meera gives a small, sympathetic nod, though she tries not to show how nervous she is. If anything, she looks more wound up than I feel. A knock at the door breaks the quiet, and I glance over as my father’s assi
From the outside, Hayley’s family home looks like any other middle-income house. The lawn is modest, edged with flower beds that have seen better days. The curtains are drawn, casting a somber shadow over the brick facade. It’s the kind of place that holds echoes of laughter, birthdays, and quiet evenings spent together. A happy home, or at least, it was.Today, it holds grief, heavy and suffocating.The street is a circus. Paparazzi crowd the sidewalks, their lenses glinting in the gray light. The air buzzes with the hum of whispered speculation and the rapid clicks of cameras. Their presence here is insulting, but I acknowledge that they could do worse, and have done worse. I step out of the car, the sound of my heels on the pavement sharp. Immediately, the crowd shifts, a swarm of bodies struggling for a better angle. Questions are shouted, their voices slicing through the air, but I don’t acknowledge them.I don’t smile. I don’t wave.This isn’t the red carpet.Anya walks beside
I expect to hear something from my father, having signed the deal, but there’s not much to be disappointed about. At one point, I could have laughed like an evil maniac after this achievement — despite knowing this win wouldn’t have been possible without Ric’s help — but now it’s just meh. Thank you, next. Meera, however, wants to celebrate with pizza. When she sees my confused face, she tells me I deserve it for just what a joke my life has become. She’s not wrong. And then she casually slips to me that I got the role in Haymitch’s movie.I almost choke on the piece of pizza I’m chewing. “When did that happen?”“Oh, the call came when you were in the meeting. Anya was thrilled, believe it or not,” says Meera. The mention of Anya takes away any bit of appetite I had. “She was?”“Yeah,” Meera agrees with a mouthful. A bit of sauce oozes out of her mouth and begins to drip down her mouth, but before I can say anything, Matt wipes it off with a tissue. I pretend to not notice the exc
I leave my penthouse with Meera by my side, the world outside feeling too bright, too loud, for the space I’ve been hiding in. The air feels sharp against my skin as if it knows what I’ve been up to these past few days. I slip on sunglasses, trying to disappear into the back seat of the car, but Meera’s voice keeps pulling me back to reality.“You ready for this?” she asks, flipping through something on her tablet, probably the calendar she’s micromanaged for me since forever.“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I mutter, staring out at the blur of buildings passing by.Am I ready though? I don’t know. My mind drifts to the last time I stood in my father’s office, barely escaping the scrutiny that was hurled at me. No preparation, no defense — I’d walked into that room a girl playing dress-up. I still remember the way those boardroom vultures had smirked, like they couldn’t wait to watch me fail.I haven’t heard from my father, Elliot Jones, in weeks. Not a call, not a message, not even a col
Between kisses that leave me breathless and stolen touches that make me forget the world outside, Ric and I pore over the details of my presentation for the rest of the day. It’s a strange bubble we’ve created, a space where nothing else exists — no expectations, no consequences. Just the steady rhythm of our work and the occasional hum of desire pulling us back into each other’s arms.But the bubble was always bound to burst.The next morning, as sunlight creeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows, reality rears its ugly head. My phone buzzes once, twice, three times. I don’t bother checking it, knowing exactly who’s on the other end. The knocks come next, sharp and demanding, echoing through the penthouse like an alarm bell. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.“Who is it?” Ric’s voice is low, groggy from sleep, but his body is already tense beside me.“Anya,” I whisper, dread curling in my stomach. She always ignores the bell, and knocks instead whenever she’s fuming.He sits
I call Maisie and tell her not to come in today. No cooking, no cleaning. I tell her I need space, a day to myself. It’s a lie, of course, but she doesn’t press. When Meera calls asking if she can swing by, I cut her off with another lie. “I’m binge-watching some mindless show,” I tell her, feigning a lazy yawn. “Having you here would just remind me of the tragedy from yesterday. Let’s catch up later?” Anya’s call comes next. She wants to go over interview questions, her usual no-nonsense approach taking precedence over everything. “I can’t,” I say, forcing a hoarse rasp into my voice. “I think I’m coming down with something. Maybe tomorrow?” One lie after another. I weave them effortlessly, piling them up like bricks to fortify my cocoon. Because the truth is, I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t want to do anything except stay locked up in my penthouse with Ric. Ric, whose lips are currently tracing a path of fire down my thighs. My fingers knot in his hair, pulling and ho
We fall asleep on the couch that night, tangled together in a mess of bad decisions and fleeting comfort. Ric’s arms remain firm around my waist, and my head rests on his chest, rising and falling with his steady breaths. The nightmares don’t come, and I wonder if it’s the warmth of his embrace or the devil’s presence itself keeping them at bay.I’ve killed people, Natalie.The words echo in my head as the first rays of sunlight filter through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing us in soft, golden light. My cheek is pressed against his chest, his heartbeat steady and strong beneath me. For a while, I just lie there, letting the rhythm soothe me in ways I don’t understand, in ways it shouldn’t.His arms don’t budge, even as I lift my head to study his face. The man who held me so tenderly last night. The man who kisses like he’s burning but pulls away like he’s drowning. The man who has killed people.I trace my finger along the lines of his face, memorizing the edges as if they could
I laugh bitterly, the sound harsh even to my own ears. “Yourself? That’s what this is about? You think you’re some kind of monster I can’t handle? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds, Ric?”His eyes darken, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You don’t understand, Natalie. I’ve done things… things that would make you look at me differently. Things that would make you run.”“Then explain,” I challenge, my hands tightening on his face. “Stop assuming I can’t handle it.”He hesitates, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. When he finally speaks, his words are raw and jagged, like they’re being ripped from his soul. “I’ve killed people, Natalie.”Suddenly I can’t breathe. All the air around us seems to have vanished. I blink, my hands slipping from his face as his confession settles between us like a bomb.“What?” My voice is barely audible, but it’s the only word I can manage.He doesn’t look away, his gaze piercing. “I’ve killed people. It’s not something I can take back, and it
I can’t tell if it’s the adrenaline coursing through me or the way his dark eyes hold mine, as if he’s searching for something he’s terrified to find.“Try,” I say again, my voice shaky. It’s a plea, a desperate attempt to save this. Save us. Whatever we are, I know it’s worth saving. I don’t know what thoughts are swirling behind those dark eyes, what decisions they’re weighing, what explanation he’s trying to weave into coherent words. All I know is that — whatever it is, I’ll take it. God, I hate him for making me feel like this — so exposed, so vulnerable. But I hate myself more for still wanting him, for needing him, even now.And when his eyes return to me it’s all I can do to not run to him and wrap my arms around him. A part of my brain tries to remind me of the way he dismissed me, disregarding all the time we spent together, all the kisses. But he did just say that he couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t matter, right? “Ric,” I prompt, unable to keep my patience any longer. “I
You may not have even realised.Those words follow me for the rest of the evening, haunting my every waking moment. I didn’t realise, no. Not until just a few hours ago when it seemed like a possibility. The possibility of being pregnant with Ric’s child. I don’t know what I was expecting to hear, until the very last second before the doctor reentered with the results. But miscarriage had never struck my mind. It seems so bizarre now. A cruel joke, almost. Here’s a problem, but wait there’s a solution. And I’m not satisfied with either. The doctor said there had to be some more tests that needed to be done because she found something suspicious. I was too dazed to be concerned, but Meera stepped forward and asked if it was something to worry about. A lost child.I don’t think anything can take your attention away from that. A child you didn’t even realise you were carrying. On the way back, Meera tries to uplift my sullen mood by saying that it wasn’t quite a baby — just a bunch