Mag-log inMadisonMy hand was on the gearshift when a familiar Aston Martin pulled into the lot. My heart jumped into my throat as Alexander emerged from the car. He wore dark jeans and a white button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Casual but still somehow expensive looking. He spotted me immediately and walked over. I climbed out of my car, suddenly hyperaware of everything: the way my dress clung to my body, the hammering of my pulse, the late afternoon sun making his hair gleam. "You came," he said simply. "You're late." "Traffic." He glanced around the park. "Should we walk?" I nodded, not trusting my voice. We fell into step beside each other, heading toward the walking path that wound along the waterfront. For a minute, neither of us spoke. The silence felt heavy, loaded with everything we weren't saying. "Nice park," Alexander finally said. "It's my favorite spot in town." "How long have you lived here?" "Five years." I kept my eyes straight ahead. "You know that already.
MadisonTwenty minutes in, his laughter grew quieter. Thirty minutes, and his breathing slowed to the steady rhythm of sleep. "Out like a light," Mom whispered from her chair, glancing over with a soft smile. I looked down at Ethan, his face peaceful, one hand clutching my sleeve. "I'll take him to his room," I murmured, carefully extracting myself from the couch. Ethan stirred slightly as I lifted him, his arms instinctively wrapping around my neck. He wasn't heavy yet, but he was getting there. Growing faster than I wanted him to. "Sweet dreams, baby," I whispered. I navigated the minefield of toys and settled him into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. He mumbled something unintelligible, rolled onto his side, and went still again. I stood there for a moment, watching him sleep. His hair fell across his forehead, his features relaxed and innocent. Alexander's eyes stared back at me from Ethan's face. I pressed a kiss to his forehead and backed out of the room, closin
MadisonI pulled away from the parking lot, tires crunching over gravel as Mario's disappeared in my rearview mirror. My hands gripped the steering wheel too tightly, knuckles white against the leather. "Mom, who was that man?" Ethan's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. I glanced at him. He'd buckled himself in without prompting, legs swinging, chocolate still smeared at the corner of his mouth despite my earlier cleaning attempts. "Just someone I used to work with, baby." "He looked important. Like a prince! Or a king!" Ethan bounced in his seat. "Does he live in a castle?" A laugh escaped before I could stop it, sharp and bitter. "More like a tower, actually. A really tall, really expensive tower." "Cool! Can we visit?" "Absolutely not." "Why?" "Because princes and kings are overrated." I merged onto the main road, watching the restaurant fade in my mirrors. "They think they can show up wherever they want, whenever they want, and everyone should just be thrilled about
AlexanderWe stood there in the parking lot, the evening air suddenly feeling cold despite the mild temperature. "That kid is too familiar," Anthony continued. "I kept looking at him, trying to figure out why he seemed so recognizable. And then it hit me." "What hit you?" "I remembered someone from my childhood." Anthony's expression was troubled. "A little boy whom I used to play with at country club events. Who asked a million questions and never sat still. Who had this particular way of gesturing when he got excited, like his hands couldn't keep up with his thoughts." My chest felt tight. "Your point?" "My point is that kid reminded me of you, Alex. When you were his age." Anthony paused. "Which raises a very interesting question." "Which is?" "How come that kid is so similar to you?" I wanted to deny it, to laugh it off, to come up with some rational explanation for why a random child in Connecticut would bear any resemblance to me. But I couldn't. Because the moment I'd
AlexanderThe thought repeated itself, echoing in my skull like a drumbeat. Madison had a kid. A son, based on the haircut, the clothes, the way he moved with that particular brand of boyish energy. The boy couldn't have been more than four or five. Maybe younger. Hard to tell with kids. They all looked the same to me. Four or five years old meant Madison had gotten pregnant shortly after leaving Knight Industries. Maybe even before she left? Was she married? The question slammed into me with uncomfortable force. I'd assumed she was single based on Leo's report about Christopher, but that didn't mean anything. She could have gotten divorced. Could have a partner who wasn't in the public record. Could have done any number of things in five years. The kid tugged at her hand again, still talking, oblivious to the tension radiating from his mother. Christopher Allen's face flashed through my mind. Single, successful, regular at her café. Was he the father? Had Madison been seeing h
AlexanderWe ate in silence for a while. The food was good, better than I'd expected from a family restaurant in Connecticut. Around us, conversations flowed, families laughed, the kind of normalcy I'd never quite managed. "Katherine called me yesterday," Anthony said suddenly. I looked up. "What did she want?" "To ask about you. Said you've been distant lately. Not answering her calls." "I've been busy." "With work or with stalking your ex-assistant?" "Can we drop it?" "No." Anthony set down his fork. "Look, I like Katherine. She's smart, ambitious, and good for your public image. But you don't love her." "This again." "Yes, this again. Because someone needs to say it." He met my eyes. "You've been engaged for five years without setting a date. That's not normal. That's avoidance." "It's complicated." "Everything with you is complicated." He signaled for another beer. "What if Madison really has moved on? What if she's dating that Christopher guy, or someone else entirely?







