로그인GwenThe house felt much more hollow after my mother left. I sat curled on the library sofa long after sunset pretending to read while rain lashed softly against the tall windows. The book remained open to the same page for nearly forty minutes. I kept hearing her answer in my head. "Yes." But fractured slightly around the edges. Like belief forced through fear.Matteo eventually entered carrying two glasses of wine. “You’re brooding theatrically,” he informed me. “I learned from Sebastian.” “Fair.” I accepted the glass quietly.The library lights glowed warm against dark wooden shelves while thunder rolled faintly beyond the estate. As children, storms used to bring us here together with blankets and stolen desserts while our father pretended not to notice.The memory hurt unexpectedly. Because suddenly I realized that before Camilla, before Mason, before Kai, before all the violence…I had once belonged somewhere effortlessly. I missed that girl sometimes. “She’ll come back,” Matteo
GwenMy mother avoided looking at me the entire morning. Not obviously and that was the worst part. It happened in fragments. A pause too long before answering me, eyes sliding away during breakfast, hands trembling slightly whenever Camilla’s name surfaced in conversation.Hairline fractures. That was what Adrian called them once during one of our late-night conversations. “Control rarely collapses dramatically,” he had said quietly. “It breaks in tiny uncomfortable pieces first.” At the time, I had been talking about myself. Now I realized he could have been describing my family too.I stood near the kitchen windows watching rain collect against the garden stonework while Matteo scrolled through financial reports across the island counter. The house felt restless lately. Like something beneath it had begun shifting structurally.“You didn’t sleep,” Matteo observed without looking up. “Neither did you.” “Fair.” A faint smile tugged briefly at his mouth before disappearing. Silence se
Author's POV Camilla knew something shifted before anyone spoke. Elenna Cruize did not answer her morning calls immediately anymore. Forty minutes yesterday. Twenty-three this morning. Insignificant to ordinary people but not to Camilla.For her, attachment patterns mattered. Emotional dependency revealed itself through rhythm...response time, tone changes, hesitation and eye contact. And Luciana had begun hesitating. Which meant Gwen was succeeding and that was totally unacceptable.Camilla stood silently inside her penthouse office overlooking the city while one of Kai’s remaining operatives waited near the door, nervous. As he should be. “You sent the photographs too early,” Camilla said calmly. The man swallowed. “We thought pressure would destabilize her.”Camilla turned slowly as cold irritation sharpened her features. “And instead?” “She’s becoming more reliant on Salvador.” Exactly...Idiot. Fear only isolated people when they lacked emotional anchors. Gwen now had Adrian, Seb
Author's POV Mrs. Cruz woke before dawn with a headache pressing behind her eyes...Again. Lately the headaches came often after emotional confrontations involving Gwen. Dr. Weston insisted it was stress. Grief resurfacing as well as emotional exhaustion. Camilla said much the same thing. Still…Something about the house no longer felt settled.She sat slowly at the edge of the bed, pressing trembling fingers against her temple while pale morning light stretched across the room. The villa was quiet. For six years she had prayed endlessly for Gwen’s return. Then Gwen came home…and somehow nothing became easier afterwards.The thought filled her with immediate guilt. A mother should not think such things. Yet the truth remained. Before Gwen returned, grief had been simple. Painful, yes. Devastating, even but still simple. Now everything felt fractured. Her sons whispered privately. Her husband watched Camilla differently lately. And Gwen…Oh dear. Gwen looked at her now with eyes that c
Author's POV Adrian answered on the second ring. Sebastian rarely called him directly. Which meant something was wrong...Very wrong. “What happened?” No greeting or politeness. Straight to the wound.Sebastian’s voice came low and tight through the line. “Someone sent surveillance photos of Gwen.” The temperature in Adrian’s office dropped instantly. Across the room, Miguel looked up sharply from the couch.Adrian’s expression did not change. That was always when he became most dangerous. “How recent?” “Tonight.” Adrian rose slowly from his chair. “Send everything.” The files arrived seconds later and Adrian opened them immediately. His pulse slowed. Not from calmness but from control.Photographs of Gwen entering the villa grounds. Gwen near the east terrace. Gwen standing by her bedroom balcony. All taken from long range. Professional distance. Professional angles. Not paparazzi but deliberate surve
Author's POV Sebastian began noticing the gaps everywhere once he allowed himself to look.That was the frightening part. Not discovering one inconsistency but discovering hundreds. That included tiny things, dismissed things as well as conveniently forgotten things.The human brain loved continuity. Most people would rather force broken pieces together than admit someone had quietly rearranged the puzzle while they were grieving.Sebastian stood alone in his office at Cruize Global Headquarters long after most employees had gone home. He watched the city lights sprawling beneath the towering windows in fractured ribbons of gold. It was raining again. Lately it felt like the entire city had become trapped beneath storms.His laptop glowed across the darkened desk, several recovered archival files spread across the screen. They were of old event schedules, financial transfers, family calendars and visitor logs. What his sister, Gwen, called patterns.Gwen had inherited that instinct f
Gwen’s POVThe spa was designed to feel like forgetting. Soft marble floors, pale wood accents, water murmuring somewhere unseen. Everything smelled faintly of eucalyptus and something floral I couldn’t quite name. Calm had been engineered here, curated down to the lighting and the music that breat
Gwen’s POV The west wing had mirrors everywhere. That was the first thing I noticed after a few days of confinement. They were the kind of mirrors meant to reassure, not reflect. Soft lighting. Warm frames. Nothing sharp. Nothing honest. They wanted me to recognize myself again. Or maybe they want
Adrian’s POV Miguel left the room quietly. He always did that when he had said something that landed too close to bone. As if noise afterward would bruise it further. The door closed with a soft click, and the house returned to its familiar hush. Somewhere down the hall, Kayla laughed at somethin
Alejandro Miguel did not speak right away. He rarely did when the silence mattered. We were seated on the terrace just beyond the playroom, the late afternoon light slanting low across the stone. Kayla’s laughter drifted faintly through the open doors, soft, unguarded, the sound of a child who ha







