AlexanderTime inside a hospital seems to flow differently. I’m constantly with Sophia during every appointment, every exam, every gentle physical therapy session she begins to restore safe movements. She complains about the slow pace of recovery yet celebrates each small improvement in the babies with a renewed smile.We start talking about the future, especially about going home. The medical team itself encourages these discussions, saying that having goals and perspectives helps psychologically during recovery.“I can’t wait to see both of them in the cribs we prepared,” Sophia says, fiddling with the sheet’s hem, her head supported by a tall pillow. “And to think, last time I was there, those cribs were empty…”“And they’ll still be empty for a little while,” I remark, holding back a sigh. “But now we know they’re not empty of hope. Oliver and Noah will arrive, even if a bit later than we expected.”She laughs and simultaneously releases an emotional sob.“Do you think we’ll manag
SophiaI watch Alexander check the babies’ monitors one last time before we leave the neonatal ICU. The way he cares for our children fills me with love and pride. Even tired, he keeps that attentive, watchful gaze, as though nothing in the world could slip past his protection.“We can go,” he says, coming over to push my wheelchair.On our way back to my room, I notice a different commotion in the hallway. An elegant woman is talking to one of the nurses, gesturing with authority. There’s something familiar about her that makes me frown, trying to recall where I’ve seen her before.It’s then that Alexander abruptly stops my chair. I feel his fingers tense on the handlebars and tilt my head to look at him. All the color seems to have drained from his face.“Victoria,” he murmurs, so quietly I barely catch it.The woman turns in our direction, and in that moment, my heart pounds. I recognize her from the photographs I found hidden in Alexander’s office months ago. She’s older now, but
AlexanderThe hospital office is my temporary refuge. I need a few minutes to pull myself together, to push away the memories Victoria’s presence has stirred up. I rub my hands over my face, trying to organize my thoughts, when my phone vibrates. It’s Dominic.“Sir, sorry to bother you, but I thought you should know. Victoria Hawthorne checked into the Four Seasons this morning.”My stomach twists.“She intends to stay,” I murmur, more to myself than to Dominic.“Would you like me to keep an eye on her?”“Yes. Every step. And Dominic… strengthen security at the neonatal ICU. No one enters without express authorization from me or Sophia.”I hang up the phone and walk over to the window. Outside, the city carries on at its frantic pace, oblivious to the storm raging inside me. The sound of heels in the corridor alerts me, and I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.“You’re still hiding in dark corners when you’re upset,” Victoria’s voice is soft, almost motherly, yet it carries t
SophiaA soft sound of footsteps in the hallway rouses me. The night is silent except for the constant beeping of monitors, and Alexander has finally fallen asleep on the sofa after hours of restlessness. I check the clock: 3:15 a.m.Something feels off. A premonition, perhaps. Or maybe it’s just the maternal instinct that’s grown since Oliver and Noah were born.“Nurse?” I call softly, but there’s no reply.Carefully, I set my feet on the cold floor. I still feel pain from the birth and surgery, but the physical therapy is helping. I take a few tentative steps toward the door, gripping my IV stand. Through the glass, I see a figure moving toward the neonatal ICU.My heart races.“Alexander,” I whisper, going over to the sofa. “Alexander, wake up.”He opens his eyes immediately, always on alert.“What is it? Are you okay?”“There’s someone walking toward the ICU,” I say, my voice trembling. “It’s not the on-duty nurse.”He jumps up, fully awake.“Get back in bed,” he orders, already s
AlexanderDr. Stevens’s office feels smaller than I remember, even with its bright walls and bookshelves packed with volumes. Maybe the sense of being closed in comes from the weight of everything that’s happened. Last time, I was just a shattered teenager, trying to pick up the pieces Victoria left scattered. The armchairs and the faint scent of chamomile tea remain the same, but my anxiety keeps me from sitting down. I pace back and forth, as if I need to burn off the tension that seizes me.“How long has it been, Alexander?” Dr. Stevens asks, adjusting his glasses.He sits in the chair beside a small table with notes and pens. His voice is calm and reminds me of when I believed that talking could be enough to cure my torment.“Fifteen years,” I answer, unable to hide my nervousness. My hands are sweating, and I need to keep pacing to clear my mind. “Maybe I just pretended to be okay.”“And what brought you back?” he continues, watching me intently.I stop by the window, gazing at t
Alexander“I want cameras at every corner of this floor,” I instruct the head of security, pointing at the hospital layout before me. “Especially in the corridors leading to the neonatal ICU.”The man, a former military officer named Barnes, nods as he takes notes.“We’ve already started installing them, sir. Facial recognition system included.”Dominic, standing beside me, slides some more documents across the desk.“We’ve also changed all the access protocols,” he says. “Now you need three different forms of ID to enter the ICU: fingerprint, facial recognition, and a personal code.”I look over the papers, my jaw tensing. Since Victoria’s nighttime visit, I’ve been unable to relax.“What about the staff?” I ask.“Complete background checks are being redone,” Barnes replies. “Especially for the night shift.”“Good.” I run my hand through my hair. “And the private team?”Dominic opens a folder of résumés.“We’ve selected the best. Former police officers, protection specialists. Two fo
SophiaLate at night, when Alexander finally drifts off on the sofa, exhausted from supervising the installation of all the security equipment, I decide to investigate more about Victoria. Something inside me says I need to understand better what we’re up against.I take my phone and send Dominic a message: “I need you to bring me something from Alexander’s office. An old wooden box with photos in it—should be at the bottom of the last drawer.”A few minutes later, he replies: “You sure? He’s not going to like this.”“I’m sure. Please.”An hour goes by before Dominic appears silently with a worn wooden box. He sets it beside me on the bed and leaves without a word, casting only a concerned glance at Alexander, who is sound asleep.With slightly trembling hands, I open the box. A musty smell of old, stored paper hits me. There are more photos than I remember, and something new: a black notebook, its cover worn by time.“Forgive me, my love,” I whisper to Alexander before opening the d
AlexanderDr. Stevens’s office feels smaller today, more stifling than usual. Through the window’s cracks, I see heavy clouds gathering overhead, heralding an oncoming storm. It’s as if the weather outside reflects the turmoil I feel inside—a mix of anxiety and fear that refuses to leave me.“Sophia found the diary,” I state bluntly, taking a seat in the armchair facing his desk covered in notes.Dr. Stevens, in a serious stance, sets his pen down slowly and looks at me over his glasses.“How do you feel about that?”I let out a short, humorless laugh.“Exposed. Vulnerable. Like I’ve gone back to being fifteen, with no one to turn to.”He folds his arms, following my every movement.“Did she react badly?”I shake my head, recalling that moment Sophia hugged me, her tears dampening my shirt.“No. Actually, she was amazing. Understanding. Much more than I deserve.”“Why do you think you don’t deserve it?”My throat tightens, remembering all the times I’ve woken up sweating, terrified by
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