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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Yvanna and Hugh's Son
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2024-03-05 21:39:24Related chapters
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With cameras relentlessly flashing and reporters eagerly scribbling notes, I remain on the platform with a calm facade, though my heart is pounding with nerves. As I speak about the details of my fake pregnancy, my mind is elsewhere, anxiously checking my phone under the tablecloth. I need Christy to arrive with the orphan soon. Though the weight of my deception continues to press heavily on me, it's too late to falter now. -Is he here yet?- I hastily type, my fingers trembling slightly. I hit send and hold my breath, hoping for a positive response. Just as I finish my speech, a sense of relief thrills through me as Christy appears at the garden's entrance, cradling the precious two-year-old orphan in her arms. My eyes glisten with unshed tears as I watch Christy approach. With a practiced smile, I wipe away a non-existent tear and beckons Christy forward, subtly gesturing for her to make the child visible in the prying eyes of the media. As Christy reaches the platform, I take a
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ANASTASIA’S POV: I stand silently in the doorway alongside several Omegas, my heart is confusingly both light and heavy as I watch Hugh cradles his son in his arms, a radiant smile gracing his features. Nobody can deny the happiness reflecting in Hugh's eyes as he gazes down at his son. Every tender touch, every kiss, is a testament to the depth of his love. And I don’t want him to lose that because of me. My gaze inadvertently drifts to Yvanna, who stands beside Hugh, a triumphant smirk playing on her painted lips as she stares at me. It’s understandable that she harbors resentment towards me, I lied to her, making her believe that Hugh still loves her. Apart from that, she’s now seeing me as a threat to her own ambitions. And now, with the revelation of Hugh's son, she’s considering this as an opportunity to further cement her hold on him. Yvanna won’t hesitate to exploit this situation to her advantage. Already, I can imagine the headlines, the public scrutiny that’ll follow.
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I step into the open-concept living space of Dwight’s condo unit. Floor-to-ceiling windows flood the room with natural light, offering panoramic views of the city skyline below. Plush, charcoal-colored sofas sit before a massive flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, beckoning me to sink into their depths. A sleek, granite-topped kitchen island gleams in the corner, adorned with stainless steel appliances. "Dwight, this is such a nice and comfortable place," I murmur, turning to him with a smile. "Glad you think so." Dwight pauses as if considering something. Until finally, he speaks again, “Anyways, would you like something to eat?" My stomach rumbles at the mention of food, reminding me that I haven't eaten since last night after watching Yvanna’s press conference on Hugh’s TV. "Yes, that would be lovely." "Great! I’ll buy some snacks, while you make yourself comfortable. Treat everything here like it's your own," Dwight says with a wink before disappearing out the door. Now alon
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My hand trembles as I pull away from Hugh's grasp, my eyes filled with defiance and desperation. I can’t bear the thought of returning home with him, can’t face the suffocating weight of everyone’s expectations and demands on him. "I'm not going with you," I declare, my voice steady than I expect it would. "I don't have a home, Hugh. And right now, I want to stay here." Hugh's jaw tightens further, his eyes no longer shy away from flashing his anger. "You can't stay here," he insists. I try not to falter as I reply, “Who are you to decide where I wanna stay?” Before Hugh could protest further, Dwight steps forward, his voice calm but firm as he intervenes. "If you're worried that I'll be spending the night here with Anastasia, then don't. I'll be at mom's house." Hugh's glare intensifies as he locks it with Dwight's in a silent battle of wills. But Dwight refuses to back down, his own stare unwavering as he meets Hugh's challenge head-on. As the tension between them escalate
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DWIGHT’S POV: I gaze at Anastasia who looks surprised and confused. The taste of her lips is still lingering in mine, still making my muscles tingle. But the part of our kiss that shouldn’t be ignored is the electrifying sensation that coursed through me, which means one thing - she’s my mate! My thoughts drift back to the heated confrontation I had with Hugh earlier. The words reverberate in my mind like a haunting refrain, ‘Don't you dare touch my mate! It’s a warning laden with possessiveness and a primal instinct to protect what is his. However, Anastasia is not just Hugh's mate; she’s mine too, in ways I’m only beginning to understand. This is the one thing I won’t let Hugh take from me.Despite the risk, I lean forward, my heart thrumming with anticipation. I reach out to touch Anastasia, to bridge the distance between us once more. But before my fingertips could brush against her smooth skin, Anastasia leans back, her movements graceful yet deliberate. Her beautiful hazel ey
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HUGH’S POV: The night drapes over the city, stars scattered across the velvet sky like diamonds on black satin. I stand alone on my penthouse’s balcony, a glass of bourbon clutched in my hand. The memory of my heated confrontation with Dwight replays relentlessly in my mind, each word exchanged a jagged shard piercing my conscience. Anger boiled within me. I’ve never been one to back down from a fight, but now, I couldn't shake the regret that’s gnawing at my insides. And then there’s Anastasia, her rejection of being with me echoing in my ears. The impact was fierce, her words flung like arrows, and it’s hurting more than the breakup I had with Yvanna before. My grip tightens around the glass. With a sudden surge of rage, I crush the glass, the sharp splinters biting into my skin as the amber liquid bursts forth, staining the balcony floor like drops of blood. My chest heaves, the shattered remnants of my drink falling from my grasp. When my head begins to throb and my vision sw
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YVANNA’S POV: The afternoon sun streams through the window, casting a warm glow over the newly decorated bedroom of Zachary. I sit cross-legged on the floor with Zachary giggling uncontrollably as I make funny faces and silly noises. Toys are scattered around us, forgotten in the joy of our play. "Again, Mama, again!" I playfully say.Zachary squeals, clapping his tiny hands together.I lift him into the air, his laughter filling the room. But just as I lower him back down onto the matted floor, my cell phone rings, breaking the enchanting spell of our play."Stay right here, sweetie," I murmur, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead before rising to answer the call.Then, my heart flutters nervously as I glance at the caller ID. Hugh's name blinks back at me, surprising me. It’s only yesterday afternoon since we last spoke, and that last encounter was marked by tension and unresolved issues.Taking a deep breath, I answer the call, my voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in my
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Anastasia shifts uneasily, her fingers twisting around the edge of her skirt. It’s as if the very atmosphere thickens, suffocating her with its intensity. Fortunately, after what feels like an eternity of silence, she finally speaks, her voice hesitant, her gaze flickering to my face."I... I'll do it.”"Excellent," I pur, my voice smooth as silk. "Thanks for not rejecting my request. That means a lot to me, really."Anastasia swallows hard, before countering, “I’m only agreeing to this to make amends for the troubles I’ve caused you. Don’t think of this as something more than that.”“Oh, believe me, I know,” I lean forward, my demeanor remains poised and composed. "I've already made some initial plans for the wedding from two years ago. Of course, I'll be making a few modifications and improvements."I gesture for Christy, who’s standing a few feet from me, to come closer. Christy hurries over, her eyes darting between me and Anastasia. Then I turn to Anastasia and say, "Christy wi
Last Updated : 2024-03-13
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My dreams dance on the edges of my consciousness, a haze of warmth and comfort wrapping around me like a cocoon. But as something soft caresses my face, gentle and soothing, I stir from my slumber, blinking against the intrusion of light. My vision adjusts slowly, revealing the silhouette of a figure bathed in sunlight, a familiar scent and soft chuckles drifting towards me. "Hugh?" I murmur, my voice thick with sleep. "You're awake now?""I am," comes the gentle reply, accompanied by the sound of movement. "Sorry I've woken you up."My heart skips a beat as I jolt into a sitting position, my eyes wide with disbelief as I take in the sight before me. There, bathed in the soft glow of dawn, is Hugh, his form tangible and real, a living, breathing presence that banishes the shadows of doubt that has haunted my dreams. Though bandaged and bruised, he’s awake, his eyes meeting mine with relief and gratitude.Tears well in my eyes as I throw myself into his arms, my embrace fierce with t
