로그인The metallic tang hit him first, sharp and nauseating, mingling with the stale urine stench of the place. Chaos erupted instantly—nearby passengers froze, then screams pierced the air, high and jagged, as a woman clutched her chest and backed away. Phones were whipped out; flashes popped like gunfire.Matthew burst in seconds later, his team fanning out to block the door. "Clear the area!" he barked, voice booming over the hysteria. A scrawny teenage boy in a hoodie lingered too close, phone raised, filming with a ghoulish grin. "Hey, kid, put that away!" Matthew roared, lunging toward him.Ryan dropped to his knees beside Daisy, ignoring it all. His fingers pressed gently to her neck, slick with blood, searching for a pulse. It fluttered—weak, thready, barely there, but real. Hope surged through him like adrenaline. He looked up, voice low and steel-steady despite the tremor in his hands. "Matthew, stop. She's alive. We need to get her to a hospital now."Matthew whirled, face paling
Ryan's hands trembled slightly on the steering wheel as he pressed the phone harder against his ear, the gridlocked traffic a taunting barrier ahead. "Daisy is about to be attacked," he said, his voice low and urgent, cutting through the hum of horns.Logan replied flatly from the other end, skepticism sharpening his words. "In a place that packed with people? I don't think those guys would be dumb enough to try it."Ryan's eyes darted between lanes, seeking any sliver of escape. "Crowds are perfect—no one notices a damn thing. Tell me, is she alone right now, or is anyone near her?""Old woman next to her, sitting on the bench," Logan reported, his tone all business.Ryan floored the accelerator into a narrow gap, tires screeching. "Don't take your eyes off Daisy for one second. If anything happens to her, I'll never know what she's after or what Anastasia really wants.""As you say, boss," Logan acknowledged curtly. The call clicked off.Ryan slammed the phone into the passenger sea
Howard gripped the wheel of his sedan, easing out into the quiet morning streets as the cool sun cast long golden rays across the dew-kissed lawns and empty sidewalks. His mind, usually laser-focused on office briefs and meetings, drifted entirely to Charlotte—her gentle laugh.His mind, usually laser-focused on office briefs and meetings, drifted entirely to Charlotte. Breakfast that morning replayed in vivid detail: her gentle laugh bubbling up as he bit into the cupcake, smearing cream across his lips. "Oh, Howard," she said, eyes sparkling with amusement, reaching for a tissue from the counter.He took it with a grin but wiped the wrong side—his right side of lips instead of left. Charlotte burst out laughing again, a sound like wind chimes. "No, no, you missed it!" She grabbed another tissue, leaning in close across the small kitchen table, her fingers brushing his chin as she gently dabbed the cream away. Time slowed. Her eyes locked on his lips, soft and intent; his gaze held h
Howard stirred in the dimly lit bedroom, the shadows cast by the early morning sun slicing through the curtains like knives. He tossed off the covers, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and planted his feet firmly on the plush carpet. Sleep had evaded him all night, his mind a battleground of regret, anger, and a creeping sense of vulnerability.He stalked to the bathroom, the marble cold beneath his feet, and splashed water on his face. The chill did little to banish the fatigue etched on his features. He stared at his reflection, the eyes staring back sharp, cold, and unyielding. "Get it together, Howard," he muttered, reaching for a towel.Dressed in a crisp white shirt and tailored suit, he exited the bedroom, the hallway stretching out before him like a gauntlet. The maid, Maria, looked up from polishing the banister, surprise flickering across her face."Good morning, Mr. Carter," she said, bobbing a curtsy. "Would you like breakfast—""No," he cut her off, his tone clippe
Howard sprawled on the king-sized bed in his cavernous bedroom, silk sheets tangled around his legs, eyes locked on the shadowed ceiling fan spinning lazy circles overhead. Vanessa's bitter slap burned fresh in memory, Ruby's tiny casket lowering into rain-soaked earth replayed in loops, and Charlotte's quiet departure sliced sharper than expected—minds tangled in grief's knot, twisting tighter with each breath.He rolled onto his side, punching the pillow once, hard—then flipped back, sheets whispering protest. The clock glowed 11:47 p.m.; sleep should've claimed him hours ago. Rest. Need it. But eyes stayed wide, body wired.A growl ripped from his throat. He sat up abruptly, raking hands through disheveled hair, feet hitting cold hardwood. Can't bear this empty room. Marriage barely days old—no love, no fire between them—yet her absence gnawed like hunger, the vanity mirror bare without her brush strokes, air too still sans her steady presence.He stalked to the mahogany bar rack i
Howard paused at the bedroom door in Carter Mansion, the once-dreaded space tied to his strained marriage with Charlotte now pulling him forward with a shifted mind, boots scuffing the marble threshold."Howard," came Anastasia's sweet voice from behind, lilting like honey.He turned, spotting Anastasia gliding down the hall, a steaming coffee cup cradled in both hands, her silk robe tied loosely, face beaming brighter than any day prior—eyes sparkling, steps light and eager.Howard's gaze dropped to the cup, steam curling up, then lifted to her glowing smile. She chimed happily, closing the distance with a sway, her innocent act blooming—head tilted, lips soft in that practiced pout."Howard," she cooed sweetly, voice dripping warmth as she stopped inches away, holding the cup higher. "I know you're angry with me, but really—I never wanted anything that hurts you. I care for you always. After all, you and your family treat me like your own, even though the truth is I'm not blood-rela
It was Mr. Wendell's birthday.Charlotte stood before the mirror, adjusting the simple white gown she had bought a few days earlier. The dress wasn’t extravagant, but there was an understated grace in the way it fell around her—soft, calm, reflective of who she really was.Howard hadn’t come to see
Nearly two hours later, Howard’s patience gave out completely.He had stood there, silent and composed, while Charlotte moved from rack to rack, trying on dress after dress, smiling, chatting, and acting as if the boutique were her personal kingdom. But now—watching her reject yet another gown—some
As they stepped inside, the soft chime of the boutique’s doorbell echoed faintly in the air. Charlotte’s heels clicked against the marble floor, every sound sharpening the tension between them.“Brought me here for another round of humiliation?” she asked coldly, her voice barely above a whisper ye
“So, you’re getting married,” Ryan said, folding his arms with a smirk. “When exactly were you planning to tell me this—after the first kid was born?”Howard shot him a cold glare. “Cut the nonsense. There’s nothing worth announcing. That girl isn’t special.”Ryan chuckled softly. “Right. And yet y







