—Ethan’s POVShe hadn't uttered a word since we got back home. Not one word.Not even after I told her that Luna was now under our custody.Not when Russ had discovered the drawing—with our names scribbled on the drawing. Hers. Mine. The same fucking paper she had stuck in her pocket the day that I disappeared twelve years ago.She just stood there in the kitchen with her arms folded across her chest as if she was trying not to fall apart.And I let her.Even the 'silence'… said too much sometimes.I leaned back against the countertop, teeth gritted, concentrated gaze locked onto her."You've not uttered a single word since we arrived."Her hands spasmed, but she did not move.I stepped closer. "She had it, Aria. The paper. From the orphanage."Still nothing."She held onto it like it was a trophy," I continued, my voice low. "Like she'd won a place in your book."That finally got her to jump. Just barely.I drew nearer, my tone becoming more biting. "Did you know she possessed it?"
—Sophia’s POVLucas stretched the paper towards me, after Ethan has signaled him to pass it to me.I looked down at the paper. Uncreased. Unrushed. Like she’d placed it wherever she did with care. Like it mattered to her how I’d find it.The letter wasn’t long. One page. No perfume. No blood. Just… words.My hands trembled before I even unfolded it.---Sophia,I didn’t plan to say goodbye. I don’t think I deserve that privilege. But I couldn’t leave without writing this.You deserve the truth—not for closure, just for clarity.I didn’t love Liam. I convinced myself I did because he wanted you. And I’ve spent too long trying to become everything you are instead of being who I am. I hated the way people looked at you. The way they saw light when I was standing in the same damn room.So I ruined you. For what? A man who couldn’t even stay loyal to the woman he claimed to love?I thought breaking you would fix me. It didn’t.You have every right to hate me.I hate me too.I’m leaving be
—Ethan’s POVLuna was a distraction.I knew she was up to something, but I just had to play along, and watch her closely. She's not the kind I could ignore.As soon as she was taken into isolation, I went straight to the strategy wing of the control room. My mind was already calculating. Every move Maurice had made was reckless, but not without intent. He wanted to provoke me. Trap me. Drag my name through the mud and hang me for crimes I hadn’t committed. That part was clear.But it wasn’t just about business anymore.It was about legacy.And I wasn’t about to let a snake like Maurice taint mine."We need every file Luna mentioned," I told Russ. "The offshore accounts, the contracts, all of it. Track any financial transactions tied to my name in the last six months, cross-reference them with foreign servers. Start with the Cayman Islands."Russ nodded and got to work.Sophia stood near the door, arms wrapped around herself. The oversized sweater swallowed her frame, but not the fi
—Sophia’s POVI didn’t sleep. Not really. Maybe I drifted off at some point, lulled by the faint hum of surveillance equipment and the warmth of Ethan’s jacket draped over me. But my mind never really shut down. Not when the world outside was sharpening its knives.Ethan hadn’t come back to the cot after Russ showed him that video. I knew he wouldn’t. That wasn’t how he worked. He stayed up, planning, watching, calculating a hundred steps ahead like the strategist he was—ruthless, cold, composed. And somehow, even with all that steel in his spine, I’d seen something else crack through.He touched my hand. Just briefly. But it was enough.I sat up, rubbing my eyes. The artificial lights had brightened again—morning, according to the bunker’s clock. It was morning but it didn't feel like it. It felt like time had stopped counting, and we were trapped in what seemed like something unexplainable. I found Ethan seated in front of the wall of screens. Back straight. Eyes fixed. Like a
—Sophia's POVIt took me a moment to realize that safety had a sound.Not silence.Not calm.But the low, constant hum of something that was reinforced—walls, systems, surveillance, guards. That subtle buzz that told you a machine was watching everything.That's what the bunker sounded like.And even as I sat there in the heavily insulated room, my hand never left my belly.The baby kicked again. Not hard. Just enough to remind me he was there. That this world—with all its schemes and shadows—was already part of his story too.Russ had brought me down into the room they called "The Box." It was compact but state-of-the-art. Soft lighting. Ventilation with a quiet hiss. Monitors embedded in the wall showed views of every possible angle outside the compound. I wasn’t sure if the walls were thick with steel or secrets.Ethan hadn’t returned yet.And maybe it was cowardly, but I still kept gazing at the door as though I was waiting for oxygen to pass through it.I perched on the side of
—Sophia's POVI didn't know whether my body or my mind weighed more.I lay staring up at the luxurious velvet ceiling of the Zurich suite and couldn't blink, couldn't sleep, couldn't switch off my brain. There wasn't enough movement in the air. Too costly. Not mine. None of it was mine.The bedclothes felt refreshing against my skin but did nothing to reassure me. Not with Maurice's words ringing in my head still. Not with the sound of Ethan's breathing—constant but heavy with all that remained unspoken."I can't sleep," I said drowsilyEthan replied from across the other end of the room. "I can't sleep either."I sat up slowly, drawing my knees to my chest. He stood near the floor-to-ceiling window again, half-concealed in shadows, the moonlight outlining the sharp edge of his jaw."Still thinking over what Maurice said?" I asked, although I knew already."No," Ethan replied. "I'm trying to figure out what I didn't tell him."There was silence once more. I hated this—being in a spo