RonanI tore my gaze away from the screen, focusing on Frederick as he rose from his chair and began pacing slowly across the room. He moved like a predator savouring its territory—calm, calculated, and exuding a subtle menace that was hard to ignore.“They needed a cover story, a distraction,” he continued his voice low and measured. “You two are the perfect scapegoats for whatever they’re planning. With you both conveniently ‘missing in action’ and no records of your presence in Kavistan, it’ll be all too easy to pin the Jorvik crimes on you. The fact that you were seen with Arya only makes it worse. Guilt by association is a powerful tool.”Frederick paused and chuckled, the sound devoid of any real humour. “But don’t worry too much. We’ve got people on the ground working to throw a wrench into their narrative. It won’t be easy—our people will be putting themselves at great risk—but we have to sow seeds of doubt wherever we can.”He moved over to a couch in the corner of the room,
RonanI cursed under my breath, hating every second of this mess. Hating Ighor and every single person involved in this conspiracy.I had been fine. We had been fine. I was just a soldier, a man trying to do his job and go back to his quiet life. All we were supposed to do was negotiate a damn treaty agreement with Kavistan and then head home. Simple. Yet somehow, they had managed to complicate everything.First, the Jorvikian military wouldn’t let me turn Arya in when I had the chance. They said she could help us uncover the network she was working for. So, I did as I was told. And now… this. It was all falling apart, and I was caught in the middle. Everything had spiralled out of control, and now Joseph and I were being painted as traitors, as criminals. All for what?My anger simmered beneath the surface, a boiling rage I couldn’t afford to let show. Losing my temper now would be counterproductive—Frederick would just use it against me. And besides, there was no one here I could ven
Ronan Frederick gave us a brief tour, showing us the various rooms before we settled into the living room. He had a different demeanour here, more relaxed, almost as if shedding some of the intensity he wore like armour back at the base. Maybe that was the power of being at home, surrounded by family. “Nice place,” I commented, trying to make small talk as we waited for dinner. “Thank you,” he replied with a hint of pride. “Irene and I worked hard to make it feel like a home, even when everything else feels unstable.” I nodded, understanding more than I let on. We all needed a place to anchor ourselves, especially when the world outside was falling apart. But as I glanced at the boys, who were now sitting on the couch, flipping through a book together, I couldn’t shake the thought of Camila. Was she okay? Did she have a chance to relax like this with her mother and Katya in the bunker? Or was she on edge, fearing what might come next? I clenched my fists, trying to banish the ques
Ronan Sensing the growing discomfort, Irene stood up abruptly, offering a polite smile as she addressed the table. “I’ll check on the roast,” she announced softly. She gestured for her sons to follow her, and I could tell it was her way of giving us space—removing herself and the boys from the heavier conversation that was unfolding. She didn’t want to be part of it. And honestly, I didn’t blame her. Frederick cleared his throat, his gaze shifting between Joseph and me. There was something cautious in his eyes, a hesitation. It was clear that Erin already knew the story—knew the weight of what Frederick was about to reveal. Was he willing to trust us with it, too? We were walking on a fragile line here. Frederick was our only real chance of making it through this mess, so his trust meant everything. But pushing him too far, too fast could jeopardise everything. I caught Joseph’s eye and gave him a slight nod, silently urging him not to press for more than Frederick was willin
Ronan Frederick took a deep breath, his gaze distant, as if he were seeing those days play out before him again. I could tell he hadn’t planned to reveal so much, but once he started, it was as if a dam had broken—he needed to get it out. “The day before the invasion, I was summoned by the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff,” he continued, his voice a low murmur. “Not just me—all of us. The highest-ranking officers. We had been planning to take control of the government for a long time. The politicians… they were drunk on power, using the military as their personal instrument of chaos. We were sent to wage wars that had no justification, sponsored terrorism in foreign lands—all for access to natural resources, to secure illegal trade routes, to line their pockets. Every death, every battle, was for greed and control. Friends, family, children—all lost in their bloodthirsty games.” He paused, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “So many of us were complicit, too. We went along wit
Ronan Frederick’s voice wavered, and he clenched his fists, as if fighting against the memory of that crushing realisation. “I mourned her for years, telling myself over and over again that it was my fault. That if I hadn’t gone to that meeting, if I had insisted on taking her with me… maybe things would have been different.” He shook his head, letting out a bitter, shaky laugh. “But how could I have done that? Who brings their wife to a private, classified military meeting? It was impossible. But still, that thought—those ‘what ifs’—they ate at me, day and night.” He paused, his eyes growing misty, a single tear slipping down his cheek. He swiped it away almost angrily, as if angry at himself for still feeling this way after so many years. The vulnerability in that single moment was startling—seeing this strong, composed man break, even for just a second. “She was my world,” he whispered hoarsely. “And I couldn’t save her. I wasn’t there when she needed me the most. It was all tak
RonanAfter dinner, Irene gently ushered her sons to bed, offering us a soft smile before excusing herself as well. I could see in her eyes that she understood the conversation that was about to unfold and had decided to give us space. It was clear that Frederick had something important to share, something he hadn’t wanted to discuss in front of his family.Once we were alone, Frederick leaned back in his chair, his eyes sharp and focused. The warm, easygoing host from earlier was gone, replaced by the calculating strategist I’d come to know. He let the silence settle for a few moments before speaking.“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I chose to discuss this with you here, at home,” he began, his voice calm but laced with intensity. We straightened up, giving him our full attention. There was no point in pretending we hadn’t been curious.“I trust my men,” he continued, choosing his words carefully. “But when people don’t have a personal stake in something, they can be… unreliable. A
RonanFrederick leaned back, his expression shifting to something almost casual.“Not us,” he said simply. “We’re just gathering information, keeping track of what’s going on. The people hunting you two are the ones pushing this agenda. They want to destabilise Jorvik, remove all traces of support around the head of state, and turn him into an isolated target. Once he’s cut off, they can stage a coup and seize control.”The pieces started to fall into place, but it still felt too convoluted, too convenient. My instincts screamed not to trust him, but what choice did we have? We were already in the middle of this, and the longer we hesitated, the more we risked losing.I swallowed hard, the reality of the situation hitting me like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t just about what we’d done or who we were—it was about what we represented: a threat to the narrative they were trying to spin.“And Dimitrov,” I murmured, trying to connect the dots. “He was my benefactor in the military. Are you
RonanThe rest of the day unfolded like a dream. The blending of cultures at the reception created an electric atmosphere, with traditional music, dancing, and customs from both Jorvik and Belvaria.People laughed, cheered, and toasted together, the joy in the air bringing everyone closer in a way I hadn’t seen before.The food was exquisite—lavish dishes from both sides, served alongside sweets that melted in your mouth. I glanced around, noticing a few of the usual snobbish Jorvikians clinging to old prejudices, but their aloofness felt like a remnant of a fading past. The world was changing, and today was proof that we were moving forward.As the day finally wound down, my heart quickened, knowing I’d soon take Camila home with me for the first time as my wife.My mother’s eyes were misty with tears as we prepared to leave. I knew the real reason she was so sentimental had little to do with the wedding itself.She’d gotten used to Camila and Glenda living at home, filling her table
RonanThese words were my truth, my heart’s deepest promises, and I meant to honour them, no matter what life might bring our way.The hall was filled with the soft sounds of sniffles and quiet sighs; I could feel the weight of emotion in the air. But in that moment, I was aware only of Camila. My vow, my promises, were for her and her alone.Camila took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, and I could see the shy nerves flickering in her expression. She hesitated just a moment, and then began, her voice steady but filled with emotion.“Ronan,” she said softly, her voice warming as she spoke, “words can’t fully capture what I feel, but I’ll do my best.” A gentle chuckle rippled through the crowd, lightening the moment, and she smiled at me with a look that made my heart race.“You made me feel at home when I didn’t have a home,” she continued, her voice thick with sincerity. “Because of you, I’ve known joy, dignity, and freedom—even though society didn’t think I was worthy of those
RonanThe music began softly, and I stood at full attention, my heart pounding as I focused on the door where Camila would soon appear.I felt a mix of nerves and anticipation I hadn’t expected, my eyes lingering on that entrance, hoping each passing second would bring her closer. But first came the bridesmaids, one by one, entering gracefully.Olivia led the way, her figure heavily pregnant but glowing, followed by Stephanie, Ashley, and two Belvarian women who looked like relatives of Camila. Though I hadn’t met them before, their familial resemblance to Camila was subtle—a trace here, a gesture there.Then, my little Katya appeared, a tiny vision holding a small basket of flowers. My heart melted as she toddled down the aisle, her big eyes wide with wonder. For a one-year-old, she was doing exceptionally well, capturing the hearts of everyone as she made her way forward.But then, as her gaze found mine, she lit up and shouted, “Dada!” I couldn’t help but laugh, joy filling me as s
RonanThe day I had dreamed of for so long had finally arrived—my wedding day. As tradition demanded, I couldn’t spend the night with my bride, so I stayed at my house with Marc, Joseph, Erin and Ashton. Lying awake that morning, memories flooded my mind, filling me with emotions I hadn’t felt in a long time. I remembered a different night, a night that haunted me and almost changed everything.That time, I’d been betrayed, drugged, and left in a haze by people I’d thought I could trust—people like Abel and Mira, whose influence had threatened to destroy my happiness. But not this time. This time, it was just my brother my soon-to-be-in-law and my true friends and me, laughing and drinking, reliving those simpler days with nothing sinister lurking around the corner.For the first time, I felt completely in control, safe. I was grateful for that disastrous night from the past, because without it, I would never have crossed paths with Camila. Everything I’d been through, all the pain an
CamilaTwo days before the wedding, Erin arrived with a heavily pregnant Olivia. I couldn't help but wonder how she managed to fly so far along in her pregnancy.Apparently, they had used a private jet, which explained the quick journey. My father had flown them all into Jorvik, bringing along his family, two lively ladies named Trisha and Lily, whom he said were our distant relatives. Along with them were Olivia’s friends, Stephanie and Ashely, who couldn't stop gushing about their excitement to see Marc and Joseph again. Clearly, those two men had left quite the impression on them.Olivia was radiant, her happiness infectious. It was clear she was free-spirited, a stark contrast to the life of servitude I had known.I was grateful she had never had to experience that harsh existence. Madam Melania was particularly taken with Olivia, unable to stop admiring her striking red hair and vibrant green eyes.I could see the wheels turning in Madam Melania’s mind as she tried to charm Olivi
CamilaMy father returned to the villa that the head of state had prepared for him and his entourage. The wedding was just two weeks away, and he planned to leave briefly, returning with my family to attend the ceremony. I was excited at the thought of meeting them, especially with how well my mother’s relationship with Dimitri was progressing. Their bond seemed solid, unhindered by the past, and I was genuinely happy for them both.Ronan suggested we return to his house after the celebration, but Madam Melania was determined to keep us there. She pulled out all kinds of tricks to persuade us to stay, even pleading with my mother not to leave.However, Dimitri was firm in his decision to take her to Nerania, where he also planned to buy a house in Jorvik for them to stay. I understood his reasoning; Madam Melania often seemed to forget that we were no longer slaves, and a little distance might help her realise the changes in our lives.She wasn’t malicious, but her subtle reminders—li
CamilaAs Erin and Ashton walked in alongside my father, I found myself standing up almost absently, my heart racing. Seeing him in person was a revelation; he looked so much better than he did on the screen.His eyes were soft and warm when they fell on me, as if he had just encountered an angel, and in that moment, I couldn’t believe he was my father. The weight of the moment pressed down on me, filling me with a mix of joy and disbelief.I didn’t want to waste any time; I was determined to avoid any awkwardness between us. With a surge of emotion, I rushed toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist, letting him know that there was no need for words. I felt him pause for just a heartbeat before he slowly wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug, holding on tightly as if he were afraid I might slip away.“My daughter, my daughter,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. I could feel his pain radiating through his words, hear it tremble in the air between us. This moment was a
CamilaI was a bundle of nerves after the signing ceremony. My heart raced, each thump echoing in my ears like a drum. I knew Fredrick wouldn't waste any time seeking me out. Erin had mentioned how impatient he had been throughout the event, his excitement barely contained.As I thought about the man I was about to meet, I felt my stomach twist into knots. My mother appeared calm and composed, but I was anything but. Fredrick was my father, a man I had never seen before, someone I hadn’t even known existed until now. The realisation weighed heavily on me. This was all so overwhelming, yet I understood it was something I had to confront.Once the signing ceremony ended, I slipped out of the living room and headed up to Ronan's room. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts and calm my racing heart. I wasn't sure how I would react when I finally met Fredrick face-to-face or what I might say to him. I had only spoken to him once over the phone, which felt like a distant memory now. That w
RonanAs we celebrated, Ashton turned to Erin with a look of quiet amazement. “When my uncle told me the only way to achieve this was by working honestly with the Jorvikians, I didn’t believe him,” he admitted. “But I guess he was right all along.” Erin nodded, sharing the same sense of disbelief mixed with newfound hope. It truly felt like the dawn of a new era, and I was grateful beyond words to witness it, let alone be part of it.Just as we were toasting to freedom and the future, my father’s phone rang. He listened quietly, then looked over at me, his expression softening. “Gregory has agreed to waive the death penalty in exchange for Lucas’s cooperation. He’ll be dismissed from the military and serve three years in prison. After that, he’ll be a free man. This is the best deal we could secure for him.”I nodded, a feeling of respect and relief swelling up as I met my father’s gaze. “Thank you, Father,” I said, my voice low but sincere. He returned a small smile, nodding back. Al