Romane von Scarlett Red

Lena’s PovFive years later“Eli, come on, baby. Time for school!”My five-year-old son came running out of the small coastal cottage, silver-gray eyes bright, backpack bouncing. “Mom, can we get ice cream after Iris’s café today? Please?”I laughed and ruffled his dark hair. “Only if you’re good. Now let’s go.”Life in this quiet town wasn’t perfect, but it was safe. I worked at Iris’s bookstore-café, lived under Mom’s maiden name, and tried not to think about Damien Laurent every single day. Eli was happy. That was what mattered.We walked the short distance to the café, Eli chattering about dinosaurs. I smiled, but the familiar unease settled in my chest when I saw the black luxury car parked across the street. Probably some tourists.“Mom, did you know T-Rex had really small arms?” Eli said, waving his own arms dramatically. “But he could still eat anything!”I grinned down at him. “I did know that. You told me yesterday, remember? And the day before.”He giggled. “But it’s cool!

Damien’s PovShe was gone.The pregnancy test on the counter stared back at me like an accusation. Positive. Clear as day. And Lena had disappeared with nothing but one bag.I slammed my hand on the marble. “Marcus! Find her. Now.”My head of security appeared within minutes, face grim. “We’re already checking cameras, sir. She took a bus. We’ll have the destination soon.”I paced the living room, anger and something sharper twisting in my chest. She’d heard Raphael’s call. The bastard had been talking about hypothetical clauses, but of course she thought it was real. I hadn’t even processed the pregnancy before she ran.“Get the lawyers on Noah’s case immediately,” I ordered. “And pull every favor we have. I want her to be found quietly. No press. No alerts to my enemies.”Marcus hesitated. “You think she’s in danger?”“Everyone close to me is in danger,” I snapped. “Especially now. If Raphael or any of my competitors find out she’s carrying my heir, they’ll use her against me.”Thre

Lena’s PovI didn’t sleep that night.Damien tried to talk to me after the call, but I locked myself in the guest room. His words from the phone kept playing on repeat: “The heir becomes priority. Custody stays with you. The mother’s role is secondary.”I touched my stomach, still flat, still unbelievable. A baby. Our baby. And he already had plans to take it from me.The next two days blurred. I smiled when I had to, avoided being alone with him, and quietly packed one small bag while he was in meetings. I bought a bus ticket with the emergency cash I’d hidden. I left the positive pregnancy test on the kitchen counter like a goodbye note.At 4 a.m., I slipped out of the penthouse, heart pounding so hard I thought I’d throw up. The elevator ride down felt endless. Every second I expected his voice behind me, demanding I come back.The night air hit me cold as I stepped onto the street. I pulled my hood up and started walking toward the bus station.My phone buzzed. A text from Damien.

Damien’s PovShe signed faster than I expected.I watched Lena from across the penthouse living room three weeks later as she stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, arms wrapped around herself. The city lights glittered below us like they always did, cold and distant.“You haven’t eaten,” I said, setting my laptop aside.She turned, surprise flickering across her face. “I’m fine.”“You skipped dinner last night too.” I stood up and walked over. “The kitchen is fully stocked. Use it.”Lena studied me like I was a puzzle she couldn’t solve. “Why do you care? This is a contract, right? I play wife when people are watching. That’s it.”I stopped a few feet away. “Correct. But if you collapse from hunger, it becomes my problem. Eat.”She gave a small, tired laugh. “You’re strange, Damien. You know that?”“People have called me worse.”We fell into silence. She eventually moved to the kitchen and made herself a sandwich. I pretended to work, but my eyes kept drifting back to her. Three mont

Lena’s Pov“You’re late on the rent again, Lena. Third month in a row.”I clutched the phone tighter, my back pressed against the peeling wall of the break room at the diner. “I know, Mr. Hayes. I swear I’ll have it by Friday. I just need….”“Friday,” he cut me off. “Or you and your stuff are on the sidewalk. I’m not running a charity.”The line went dead. I closed my eyes for a second, breathing through the knot in my throat. Twenty-two years old and already drowning. Noah in prison for something he didn’t do, Mom gone two years now, and the debt collectors circling like vultures. Two jobs, twelve-hour shifts, and it still wasn’t enough.I shoved the phone into my apron pocket and stepped back onto the floor. The dinner rush was dying down, but Table Seven still had a man sitting there who looked completely out of place. Expensive suit. Watch that probably cost more than my yearly rent. He’d been nursing a black coffee for forty minutes.He looked up as I approached, silver-gray eyes