Sophia The child. He didn't say "my child." He speaks as if everything is just a move to maintain appearances, not a loving acknowledgment that we’re going to be parents. My stomach churns with frustration. I don't even know if he believes he's the father after everything that happened, and that makes me feel even worse. — Alexander, you're forcing me to go… but you don't even want to talk to me. What if I don't want to come back? — My voice trembles, and the question comes out weak, even though I try to sound firm. He presses his lips together. — I'll arrange for everything to be moved today. I don't want to risk any situation that could harm the pregnancy. I don't want to be the one to blame if something happens. And that's final. My heart races, and I try to insist. — Please, listen to me. We can't just pretend nothing happened. You don't trust me, and these accusations… He raises his hand, cutting me off. — I'm not ready to have this conversation. Right now, my prio
AlexanderThe doorbell rings, and I’m informed that a delivery has arrived from the local florist, addressed to “Mrs. Hawthorne, the future high-society mom.” It seems like a distasteful gift, possibly arranged by disguised paparazzi or one of Olivia's spies, mocking the entire situation. I order the delivery to be refused.I look at Sophia and tell her we’re going to reinforce security around the penthouse. She nods but doesn’t seem relieved. I suggest that she avoid unnecessary outings, saying I don’t want her to be surrounded by invasive questions. She steps back slightly and says she doesn’t intend to stay trapped inside the house, but I hear a note of insecurity in her voice."I’ll take care of everything. I don’t want you to suffer more than you already are," I declare, trying to sound firm despite the weight of my own uncertainty."I can’t live in a bubble, Alexander. I need to take care of my child, go to the doctor, and have some contact with the outside world," she replies,
AlexanderThe night feels heavy as I park the car in front of the luxurious building where Olivia lives. The lights from the windows gleam against the dark sky, reflecting a hollow luxury, cold and empty—just like the owner of the apartment. I didn't tell anyone I was coming here. Not Dominic, not my private security, and most importantly, not Sophia.Every fiber of my body is tense. My mind replays Sophia's tearful eyes on a loop, her trembling voice saying she didn’t lie to me. And, above all, the words that have echoed in my head since I found out she’s pregnant."This baby could be mine. It has to be mine."I step out of the car, cross the lobby, and enter the elevator. The silence is deafening as I ascend to Olivia’s floor. Every number flashing on the panel makes my heart pound harder.When the elevator doors open, I walk down the carpeted hallway to her door. I don’t knock. I press the doorbell once and don’t wait more than a few seconds before she opens it.Olivia stands befor
AlexanderThe fluorescent hospital lights seem colder and crueler than they should. The sharp smell of alcohol and disinfectant invades my senses as I stride down the corridors with firm steps, but an uncontrollable, frantic heart.Each beat echoes like a drum in my chest while Dominic's words replay in my mind: "Sophia fainted. She's in the hospital."The mere thought of something happening to her or the baby tears me apart inside. My mind, already exhausted by doubts and conflicts, cannot endure another second of uncertainty."Alexander Hawthorne?" A nurse approaches me in the hallway, holding a clipboard."Yes, that's me! Where is Sophia? Is she okay? Is the baby okay?" My voice comes out louder than I intended, but I can't control my tone."Calm down, Mr. Hawthorne. Your wife is stable. She only had a drop in blood pressure, something common in the early stages of pregnancy. She's resting now, but everything is under control."I close my eyes for a moment, trying to draw air into
AlexanderThe days following the hospital visit pass like a blur of meticulously planned routine. Every morning, I wake up early and ensure Sophia has everything she needs. Breakfast is carefully prepared, following the nutritionist’s recommendations, and I personally deliver it on a tray, with a rose on the side, every single morning.Sophia looks paler than usual, but her eyes seem lighter. She’s spent so much time carrying the burden of Olivia’s lies, Eleanor’s manipulations, and, above all, the weight of my own doubts. Now, my priority is to ensure nothing else hurts her.Today, I enter the room with the tray while she’s sitting in the armchair near the window, a laptop on her lap. The soft morning sunlight bathes her face, and for a moment, I stop to admire the scene."Good morning," I say softly.Sophia lifts her gaze and gives me a shy smile."Good morning."I set the tray on the side table next to her."I hope you're hungry. I made sure they prepared something light but nutrit
AlexanderThe white envelope rests on the coffee table like a bomb about to explode. The edges are slightly crumpled, reflecting the weight of what they carry. Dominic stands beside me, but he says nothing. The silence in the room feels almost physical—thick, suffocating.My hands tremble as I break the seal and pull out the DNA test results. My heart pounds in my chest, my lungs can’t seem to draw in enough air. Every printed letter on the paper seems to glow under the cold light of the desk lamp.Negative result. There is no genetic compatibility between Alexander Hawthorne and the fetus in question.The words pierce my chest like daggers. For a moment, the world around me goes silent. Dominic mutters something I can’t catch. My vision blurs, my mind struggles to process the brutal reality stamped on the paper."Alexander…" Dominic tries to speak again, but I raise my hand, cutting him off."Leave," I say, my voice rough and broken.He hesitates but obeys, leaving the office and clo
SophiaThe result is still engraved in my mind, like an immutable sentence that echoes endlessly. The cold, direct words on the paper, followed by Alexander's devastated look, still burn on my skin like a branding iron."Another mistake, Sophia? In how many of these mistakes will you be the innocent one?"Each syllable was a blow. Each pause, a knife digging deeper into my chest. I never, never had been with another man besides him after we got married. But now, doubt has poisoned everything we built, and there's nothing more I can do to convince him otherwise.My fingers tremble as I close the zipper of my suitcase for the last time. The room that was once my refuge now feels like a prison. The walls oppress me, the scent of his perfume is still on the pillow, on the clothes, in every corner of this space that, for a brief moment, was our home.A tear runs down my face as I look around one last time. It's funny how, in just a few seconds, a place can transform from a home into a fare
AlexanderThe silence in the penthouse is deafening. The panoramic windows reveal the city outside, bright and bustling, but inside everything feels stagnant, dead. My only company is the echo of my own thoughts and the nearly empty whiskey bottle beside me.Every sip that burns down my throat feels like acid, but not enough to erase the image of Sophia walking away, her eyes filled with tears and her voice breaking as she said, "I know this baby is yours. Even if any damned test says otherwise."Those words haunt me. They’ve clung to my skin like scars that will never fade.The ultrasound she left on the bed is now in my hand. The blurred image of the small being who was supposed to be our child consumes me from the inside out. I close my eyes and press my forehead against the cold paper. I failed her. I failed the baby. I failed myself.A soft knock on the door interrupts my torment."Alexander?" It’s Dominic. His voice is full of caution but also firm."Go away, Dominic," I say, my
NoahThe silence in the elevator is deafening. Giulia is beside me, still in her blue wedding dress, a small travel bag at her feet. My ring - her father's ring - weighs on my finger, a constant reminder of this new reality."You have a beautiful place," she comments when we reach the penthouse. Her eyes scan the glass panels that reveal Manhattan at night."I never spend much time here," I admit, carrying her bag. "Usually sleep at the office."She smiles, that smile I'm beginning to realize means she's discovered something about me."That's why TechVision's sofas are so comfortable.""Would you... would you like to see the place?" I offer, suddenly aware that this woman now lives with me.The tour is quick. Gourmet kitchen I never use, minimalist living room, office with three monitors."And this," I hesitate at the last door, "is the master bedroom. You can have it, I'll use the guest room.""Noah," she touches my arm lightly. "We don't need to make this stranger than it already is
NoahThe Plaza's presidential suite has transformed into an improvised operations center. Monitors display real-time stock quotes while Oliver coordinates security over the phone. In less than an hour, I'll be married. The idea seems surreal - I, who built my life based on precise calculations, about to marry a woman I met less than 48 hours ago."The stocks have risen 3% since the announcement," Allison reports, tablet in hand. "The market is reacting positively to the 'romance'. Social media is buzzing with the story."The press release was precise: TechVision CEO and technology researcher met during a field test of a new app. Whirlwind romance. Intimate wedding. The kind of modern fairy tale that the public loves to consume."Security has identified three photographers trying to infiltrate," Oliver informs. "And two supposed cleaning staff with fake credentials."My phone vibrates. Morrison: "Congratulations on the wedding. Say hello to the bride for me. Her father also had a rushe
NoahGiulia's reflection in my office window distracts me while I try to explain the situation to the board. She sits discreetly in the corner of the room, pretending to examine her tablet, but I can notice how her eyes occasionally meet mine in the reflection."Let me see if I understand," Marcus massages his temples. "You're getting married. In a week.""Tomorrow," Giulia softly corrects, without raising her eyes from the screen. "The trust has a temporal clause."Something about the way she pronounces each word with precision fascinates me. It's the same care she showed when debugging the app - methodical, precise, surprising."Tomorrow?" Marcus's voice rises an octave. "This is...""Necessary," Oliver interrupts, entering the room. He carries a folder I recognize: our parents' marriage documents. "And it wouldn't be the first time a Hawthorne marries for convenience."Giulia raises her eyes, finally. The blue of her iris captures the evening light in a way that makes me lose my tr
NoahThe cafe is emptier than the first time. I choose a table in the back, where I can see both the entrance and the emergency exit - a habit I inherited from our father after everything that happened with Morrison years ago.Allison has already sent three messages about falling stocks. I ignore them all. Right now, I need to focus on something more important: the woman who just walked through the door.Giulia is different. She's traded the periodic table t-shirt for a simple dress, but the colorful glasses remain. She locates me immediately, as if she knew exactly where I would be sitting."So," she says, sitting down. "Noah Hawthorne.""You knew from the beginning?"She takes a flash drive from her pocket, placing it on the table."Not exactly. But when I fixed your app, I recognized some patterns. My father used to say that codes are like fingerprints - each programmer has their signature.""And you recognized his.""The foundation of your system," she confirms. "Which made me res
NoahThe reflection in the mirrored glass of my office shows exactly what the board expects to see: impeccable suit, assertive posture, the young CEO who turned data analysis into gold. What they don't see are the disguised dark circles, the result of another sleepless night reviewing codes. From the 45th floor of TechVision, New York seems like a model, a complex data system pulsing beneath my feet.On the main wall, our mission in silver letters: "Transforming Data into Human Solutions". It was mom's idea - she always knew how to transform cold concepts into something closer to people."Mr. Hawthorne," my assistant calls for the third time, her efficiency slightly shaken by my distraction. "The app test is scheduled for this afternoon.""I'm going myself," I respond, ignoring her surprised expression. Allison has worked with me for five years and still gets surprised when I decide to do field work."But sir, the board...""Allison," I gently interrupt, "what's TechVision's first rul
NoahThe reflection in the mirrored glass of my office shows exactly what the board expects to see: impeccable suit, assertive posture, the young CEO who turned data analysis into gold. What they don't see are the disguised dark circles, the result of another sleepless night reviewing codes. From the 45th floor of TechVision, New York seems like a model, a complex data system pulsing beneath my feet.On the main wall, our mission in silver letters: "Transforming Data into Human Solutions". It was mom's idea - she always knew how to transform cold concepts into something closer to people."Mr. Hawthorne," my assistant calls for the third time, her efficiency slightly shaken by my distraction. "The app test is scheduled for this afternoon.""I'm going myself," I respond, ignoring her surprised expression. Allison has worked with me for five years and still gets surprised when I decide to do field work."But sir, the board...""Allison," I gently interrupt, "what's TechVision's first rul
AlexanderThe house is quiet. The twins are sleeping soundly after a busy day at the park, and Claire took all the case documents to her office. For the first time in months, it's just Sophia and me.The night is especially beautiful, with a gentle breeze swaying the porch curtains. It's almost surreal to think about how we got here, after everything we've faced. Sophia is on the porch, wrapped in a light blanket, watching the moon. I approach quietly, offering a glass of red wine - the same label we drank the night we made our agreement."What are you thinking about?" I ask, sitting beside her."About how everything has changed," she responds, snuggling into my chest. "Who would have thought that meeting about my father's debts would bring us here?"I smile at the memory. "You walked into my office determined to negotiate. I never imagined you'd leave with a marriage proposal.""An arrangement," she laughs softly, her fingers playing with the wine glass. "You needed to improve your i
"UNMASKED EDITORIAL EMPIRE: Decades-Long Manipulation and Crime Scheme Exposed"• The New York Times"Matthew Morrison and James Cooper Arrested in Federal Police Operation"• Washington Post"Richard Bennett, Editorial Magnate, Found Dead in Bangkok: Suicide or File Destruction?"• The GuardianSophiaThe morning sun streams through the windows of our new home. It has been three months since that night at Sarah’s farm, and I’m still learning not to look over my shoulder every five minutes.Oliver and Noah are playing in the backyard—a fenced and monitored space, but still a place where they can just be children. Alex watches them from the balcony while working on his laptop, occasionally looking up to smile at me.My phone vibrates with a message from Claire:"It’s on TV. Do you want me to record it?"I turn on the television in time to see James being led into court. His last words before accepting the plea deal echo in the headlines: “I was just following orders, but that’s no excu
Chapter 103 - Last RefugeSophiaThe rain lessens as I drive down the dirt road. In the back seat, the twins have finally fallen asleep, Noah still clinging to the rain-soaked dinosaur. Through the rearview mirror, I confirm that Alex and Claire are still following us.The headlights illuminate an old building. A farmhouse, isolated and apparently abandoned, except for the small beam of light escaping from one of the windows."This is it, my loves," I whisper, although the boys continue sleeping.Alex parks alongside, and Claire exits first, typing something on her phone."Security system deactivated," she informs. "You can come in."We carry the boys inside. The house is surprisingly cozy inside, with furniture covered by white sheets and an old fireplace."No one knows this place," Claire explains, closing the curtains. "It was my sister's refuge. Where she kept her discoveries.""And where she died," Alex softly completes.Claire nods. "Morrison found her here. Or rather, my father