Brent's brow lifted in mild surprise, but his smile broadened. "Lily, then. A pleasure to meet you."They sat and the business nearly immediately replaced the political niceties.Vandaulf had always fancied himself the master of his universe. Of his business. Of his image. Of his life. And most importantly—of her.But tonight, something was off.Lily—no, Ina—was slipping through his fingers, her presence at the dinner a silent rebellion, an act of quiet defiance wrapped in silk and charm.And the worst part?She was thriving in it.Brent Hughes was talking, his deep voice a steady hum of conversation, but Vandaulf hardly heard him. His attention stayed fixed on her—this woman sitting beside him who looked like his wife but wasn't.She was speaking with a poise he hadn't expected, her words laced with a confidence that made Hughes lean in, intrigued. Too intrigued."Lily, you surprise me," Brent said, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "I didn't think Vandaulf's wife took any interest
Tension seemed to thicken the air as Ina sat at the edge of the bed, her heart pounding in sync with the ticking clock. There was an eerie glow cast through the window by moonlight and the silence could be deafening. She had waited for this moment; she had planned everything meticulously and now the moment had come.Ina glanced over at the sleeping form of Vandaulf, her husband, and a wave of resentment washed over her. He was the reason she found herself in this gilded cage, trapped in a life she never wanted. His cold, controlling gaze had broken her spirit, and she had become a mere shadow of her former self – Lily, the meek and obedient wife.But not tonight.Tonight, Ina would claim back her strength, her passion, her life. She stroked the surface of the vanity, her quivering fingers dancing with excitement, as she rubbed the dark kohl into the creases under her eyes, and painted red lips that bordered on sinful. The transformation was complete, and the woman standing before her
She had danced, drunk, and for a fleeting instant, forgotten.Forgotten the cage she would have to go back to. Forgotten Vandaulf's stifling control.But now, as the cold air enveloped her, reality clawed its way back into her chest.Part of her wanted to ball up her fists, stomp her heel, and cast the whole world off, diving back into the throbbing music, the anonymity, and the chaos.But instead, she walked toward the waiting car."Need a ride?"She turned, only to see Caleb standing by the curb, his hands in his pockets, his eyes unreadable.Ina smirked. "Are you always this persistent?"He took a step closer, his presence unsettling in a way that sent a thrill down her spine. "Only when something fascinates me."She laughed, shaking her head. "And what is it that fascinates you?"Caleb leaned in, his voice a murmur against the shell of her ear. "A woman pretending to be something she's not."Her breath hitched. For a second—just a second—she felt exposed.Then she masked it with a
Ina-no, Lily-blankly blinked, dazed, as if waking up from a dream.This is a dream, music of laughter, wild abandon. A dream of Caleb.She shook herself awake, tightening her mind into concentration. "Thank you," she said, pushing bills into his hand and sliding from the car.The moment her heels touched the cobblestone driveway, she removed them, holding them in her hand as she tiptoed toward the side entrance. Every step was calculated, every breath held, as she moved through the darkened corridors like a thief in her own home.If anyone saw her like this—her dress wrinkled from the night, her perfume still carrying the scent of the club's haze—Vandaulf would know.And he could never know.She slipped inside her room and locked the door behind her, exhaling sharply. Safe.But as she turned toward the vanity, she froze.The girl staring back at her from the mirror wasn’t the Lily that Vandaulf Carlston had married.This was a different woman; the dark kohl under her eyes, the faint r
Beyond the window, Brenna shifted her gaze across the 16 years of memories; the sun sank low in that bright sky while an extraordinary orange-red glow streaked the area. The wonderful smell of saltwater washed over from the ocean breeze that raced through the trees. For the James family, this would, in fact, be the second year of a long-awaited beach vacation-a sweet promise that Roosevelt made to his precious twin daughters, Lily and Lilian."Daddy! Faster! I want to get to the beach before sunset!" Lilian's voice chirped from the backseat, bubbling like soda in a shaken can."Patience, sweetheart," Roosevelt chuckled as he adjusted the rearview mirror. "We have the whole weekend to enjoy the sea."Linda James turned in her seat, beaming at her daughters. "And we have a picnic all planned! I packed your favorite sandwiches and even some of those chocolate chip cookies you love."Lily, the quieter of the two, clutched her sister's hand. "We should build the biggest sandcastle ever," s
Brenna James clicked her heels on the tile floor, but she barely heard it. All that she could hear was the deafening silence of grief.Her son.Her daughter-in-law.Her granddaughter.All gone.She had just left Lily's bedside, watching the frail, broken girl breathe through a machine. But now, she had to face the ones who would never breathe again.Her legs felt like lead as she approached the morgue door. Her hands were shaking.I can't do this.But she had to.Taking a breath that did absolutely nothing to settle her, she opened the metal door.She stumbled slightly from the cold like a slap on the face as antiseptic and death welled up, causing her to roll her stomach inside out. The room itself was dim, lit only faintly by florescent bulbs which cast ghastly shadows up the wall.And then she saw them.Three bodies, all covered in white.She drew in a ragged breath as her chest locked with pain.The mortician was silent. His face showed no emotion. "Are you ready, ma'am?"No.She
The house was too quiet. Too empty.It had been filled with laughter once—Roosevelt's deep chuckle, Linda's soft giggles, Lilian's high-pitched squeals as she ran through the halls with Lily.But now, silence hung in the air like a funeral shroud.Brenna James sat in the study, holding a half-full glass of whiskey, her knuckles white against the crystal. Her body felt exhausted after days of grieving, but her heart… it was on fire.A loud knock at the door made her flinch."Come in," she croaked, hardly knowing her voice anymore.Samuel Clark walked in, looking just as solemn as ever. He paused for a moment before saying, "Ms. James. I have news.Brenna inhaled sharply, pushing down on the lump forming in her throat. "Tell me."Clark crossed the room and thumped a folder onto the desk. "The evidence is damning."Trembling, she reached out to take it, her heart pounding in time with her pulse.Clark continued, his voice steady but dark. "The tires were cut with precision—too clean for
Clark looked at her for a moment before nodding. "I'll make the calls.As he walked out of the room, Brenna looked back toward the window. In the distance, the city lights flickered but all she saw was the wreck of her family.She buried her son. Her daughter-in-law. Her granddaughter.Now, all that was left to her was a girl fighting for her life.Brenna took a breath, steadying herself.The Carlstons had taken everything from her.They had no idea what war they had just started.The ICU: A Desperate EscapeHours later, the hospital halls were eerily quiet as a group of men in black suits moved swiftly through the corridors.Two of them stopped outside Lily’s room. One of them turned the handle carefully, slipping inside.Brenna was waiting by the bedside, her face unreadable.“She’s stable enough to be moved?” she asked, her voice hushed but urgent.Dr. Howard, one of the private doctors Samuel had arranged, nodded. “It’s risky, but staying here is even riskier. We have the equipmen
The courthouse loomed like a monolith, its towering shadow sweeping over the cluster of reporters spilling onto its steps. Flashbulbs popped. Microphones pushed their way forward like swords. Voices clashed in argument."Is it true Brigs Carlston planned the James family crash?""Ms. James! Will you testify?""Do you think justice will now be served?Lily was at the rear of the tinted windows of the bulletproof vehicle, her heart pounding. The burden of a thousand unsaid things pressed in her chest like concrete. She hadn't dressed in black, not today—today she'd dressed in white. Not because she forgave. But because she had to be heard."Don't say anything to anyone," Brenna cautioned, gripping her hand tightly. "Let them prattle on. What happens in here is all that matters."Vandaulf, seated opposite them, was a storm bottled on fragile threads. Jaw set, fists curled in his lap. "I wish him to look into your eyes when the truth comes out."The car stopped. The door opened.Lily step
The hospital room was silent—too silent for the tempest that seethed within the man who lay motionless beneath white blankets. The machines beeped continuously. But Brigs Carlston's breathing was no longer continuous.His eyes flew open.The world dissolved and throbbed, sound coming back in waves. He attempted to rise, winced as agony constricted his chest. A nurse screamed."He's awake! Call Dr. Yashir!"Brigs blinked, struggling to recall why his throat was as dry as sand, why his muscles felt pulled through the fire. Then… the memories filtered in.The girl.The car.The fire.The screams.Lily.His jaw clenched. The last shred of the James family. A thread he'd thought long severed.She lived.A rasp tore his throat as he ripped the oxygen mask away. "Where… is she?" he croaked.The nurse took a step back, eyes wide. "Sir, please—don't move too much—""LILY JAMES." His voice cracked into a harsh cough. "Is she alive?""I—I don't know—please, sir, lie back, the doctor—"He shoved
But faith is an ephemeral quality. It is a candle lit in a storm of untrammelled air, waiting to be extinguished the moment there is darkness within.She slept better that night than she had in months. No darkness quiet. No sudden heat flash, no clatter of high heels thrumming in her bones. Only quiet. Terrible, holy quiet. And when she awoke, the sun was already bright in the windows, warm and gentle. Her body was leaden, but not with fear—simply with being human.Vandaulf rolled over beside her, his eyes snapping open. His voice was gravel and fire. "Morning."Lily blinked at him, letting the quiet fall before she breathed, "Still me."He wrapped his hand tight around hers, interlacing their fingers. "I know."They sat in silence for a while. Breathing. Holding. Waiting to see if the shadows stirred.They didn't.After breakfast—a peaceful, fluffy session with Helena phoning in to drop over tea and today's hottest cuttings from the paper (none of which Lily actually read)—it was tim
The apartment was dark when they arrived back. The city skyline was swept by a late autumn storm outside the window, its soft rumble the echo of the storm within Lily's heart. She stood at the center of the living room, arms at her sides going limp, gaping into the stillness as though it might speak.Vandaulf hovered behind her. He didn’t speak. Not yet. He just watched her with that same relentless steadiness that had begun to unravel her in ways she hadn’t expected.Lily let out a slow breath. “The therapist said I’m making progress,” she murmured, her voice barely a thread. “That talking about Ina… naming what she was… was a step toward reclaiming myself.”"More than a name," Vandaulf said softly. "Survival."Lily spun around, her gaze tattered, lashes wet. "That's what frightens me."He edged closer carefully. "Because losing her feels like losing the only version of you that was able to survive what occurred?"She nodded. "Every time I talk as plain Lily. there's this echoing rin
There was a sweet scent of lavender and stale leather. Walking inside was to enter into a world of memory that the tenant had actively sought to forget. Lily folded into the end of a straight chair, her clenched tightly into her lap fingers. The rigidity with which she was clutching her fingers caused her knuckles to become pale. The corner hummed a gentle tick of a sound. A metronome. A tick that tolled within her as a challenge. A challenge to speak. To break the silence.She sat in her office across from Lily, as calm as a summer day. She wasn't old, but looked old, no. She did, however, have eyes that had witnessed it all. They were fixed on Lily with no suspicion, no disdain, but only impatience. As if to wait for her to draw breath before unspooling what she had stored inside.Dr. Valez leaned forward, just slightly. "Do you mind keeping your mouth shut for a bit longer," she said, talking slowly, "or do you need to tell me what you're thinking?"Lily's mouth opened. No noises
Lily sit up. He looks at her quizzically, but She smile into his eyes, before leaning down to kiss him deeply, sucking gently, sucking his passion and desire into her body, becoming keenly aware of all that he is and all that he wants, and sensing strongly his need for her. They kiss, pushing their tongues against each other, touching each other's soft lips, then pull away a centimeter and let tension between them mount, their warm breath on the other's lips, teasing, bringing us in, until.They kiss again, more passionately, but still slowly, taking it out, enjoying it. Sometimes they are madly passionate and their lovemaking is energetic and ardent. But tonight, She want to slow down, to feel everything strongly. "Hmmm..." She stroke his flat belly, her fingers tickled by the hair around his belly button. He is pulling her to him, kissing her hard and long, and slow, and his hand is sliding down toward her butt. He uses it to pull her toward him, pull her into him, breathing her in
The sunlight seeped gradually through the half-closed drapes, creating delicate patterns of light on the hotel suite floor. It was quiet—stunned, complete quiet.Lily sat up from the bed, her breath stuck in a catch.No voice in her head.No mocking insults. No laughter taunt. No Ina.Somewhere close by, Lily's knuckles went white with the sheet-clutching. She lay out flat, waiting for that same curl, shiver of chill, take-over—but nothing stirred.Nothing but her. Lily James. Alone in her own head."Arm." Vandaulf's voice was low in the kitchenette. "You're awake?"She nodded, forgetting he could not see her. "Yeah. I… I think I'm okay."Vandaulf bowed his head against the doorframe, crooked smile twisting across his lips, hair still disheveled. "Coffee? Tea? Or… quiet?"Lily's eyes widened in shock. "Quiet?"He smiled. "I thought it would be something of a luxury for the time."Her lips shook. "Really… yes. Quiet would fit perfectly."Vandaulf vanished once more, and the scent of fr
The rain beating on the hospital window had the cadence of a slowly building bomb, slow and steady and coiled, ready to explode. The lights in the room were only partially on, the weak light of the lamplight sitting beside the bed. Lily was huddled at the edge of the bed, panting at the border, with her wet hands bunched around the thin blanket. She could again sense the presence. Ina.Not in some remote corner of her mind, not like a ghost—no. Ina was near. On her back. Whispers on her nerve endings."You can't erase what you needed to live."The voice curled around her ear, too close. Too close."Lily, Lily—you can't erase me. You are me."No, Lily breathed, staring into the mirror in the next room. Her face met her, but it was wrong. Her eyes—Ina's eyes, no—smiled and not one muscle in her mouth moved."I made you strong," Ina asserted, her voice unyielding. "I protected you when they abandoned you. When they died. When he wedded you and told you it was duty. I was the one who stol
The therapist's office was a sanctuary of gentle light, calming grays, and muffled throbs—faux quiet that wrapped itself around broken pieces. Lily sat stiffly on the couch, too plush, too lenient, to sit on. Across from her, Dr. Mariel Kaine jotted something into her notebook before looking up."Lily," she answered softly, "how have you been since that experience in the warehouse?"Lily curled her fingers over the cuff of her sleeve, voice trembling. "I had her in check. I thought… it was over."Dr. Kaine did not respond at once. She let the silence linger between them—tense, awkward. Then, "When did you last feel her?"Lily looked away. Her own face was captured in the lip of a mirrored sculpture on the shelf. She couldn't look at it. "Last night," she whispered.Flashback: The Night BeforeThe bathroom light flickered above her as Lily stared at her reflection, breasts straining. Her fingers clenched the cold porcelain sink, knuckles white. Something had triggered it—maybe the manne