Emily’s POV“He wouldn’t say that word. But I know the tone. We were wild in our day, but Bobby always had a conscience. He’s being used. He told me he had to give the appearance of cutting ties with the Augustus family. It was the only way to keep this mysterious someone satisfied. He provoked Charles on purpose, so he’d have a reason to act politically. It seems that’s what the mystery man wanted.”“It’s a man?”“Well, he did say ‘he’ when we spoke…”I blinked at the horizon, disbelief battling comprehension. “But the subsidies?”“He agreed to hold them steady, just for now. Delay. I convinced him it was the least he could do until he actually spoke to Damian. The Augustus family could do a lot, including protect him if he really needed it. He seemed a bit worried about having made them an enemy. I told him Damian would understand.”“Daddy, you’re brilliant.”He laughed. “Don’t let your mother hear you say that. Now, go call Damian. Tell him what I told you. Set up a meeting with Bo
Emily’s POVA silence settled between us, thick and trembling. My eyes locked onto hers, searching for the lie.But there wasn’t one.Her tears slid silently down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away.“You’re right,” I said finally, my voice sharp, low. “You are unworthy of forgiveness.”Maya nodded slowly, biting her lower lip.“And you should feel the weight of what you’ve done every time you hold your baby. Every time you see their face, you should remember that you took mine from me.”She nodded again, her breath hitching.“But,” I said, softer now, reaching out slowly, “I accept your apology.”Her head jerked up in shock. “You… you do?”“I do,” I said, resting my hand briefly on her arm. “Not because you deserve it. But because I deserve peace.”She started crying again, but this time she covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she tried to keep the sobs silent.“I won’t ever forget what you did, Maya. And we’ll never be close again. Ever. But we can be pleasant. Civil. For
Emily’s POVThe scent of rosemary and roasted garlic lingered thick in the air as I stood beside Jayden, who was wiping his hands on his apron, brow furrowed in concentration. We were deep in discussion over the pumpkin and butternut squash gratin I’d been obsessing over for the fall menu. It needed something more—maybe a hint of smoked paprika, maybe a crumble of goat cheese. Jayden, ever the voice of calm in my whirlwind of creativity, suggested a drizzle of sage-infused brown butter. I was nodding, my lips curling into a grin of satisfaction, when my phone buzzed on the stainless steel counter beside me.I excused myself and stepped toward the dining room, where Emma was arranging the week’s staff schedule with the seriousness of a general planning a battlefield. I smiled at her, appreciating the way she had blossomed in her new role. Promoting her to floor manager was the best decision I had made in months. She returned my smile until her expression dimmed when she saw the look on
Charles’ POVAs we loaded into the carts, I leaned back, the wind rustling through the trees as we rode past the first hole. I watched the senator closely, calculating. When would I bring it up? The subsidies we needed for oil imports. The funding for our large-scale construction project downtown. If I could get him on our side, secure the deal, maybe—just maybe—I could breathe again.By the ninth hole, I was done. Not because I was tired—God no—but because I couldn’t stand another godforsaken minute watching Rob the finance officer hack at the grass like a man butchering cabbage, or listening to Jack the police chief narrate every swing like it was some grand feat of athleticism. The course itself was pristine, the way I liked it, and of course, I was winning. But not even a string of birdies could fix the fact that I had wasted the entire morning waiting for Senator Dawes to say one goddamn useful thing.Instead, he spent the hours peppering the game with lazy, toothless jokes.“Fin
Charles’ POVI stood in the center of Damian’s office, arms crossed, the tension between us thick enough to choke on. The windows behind him framed the skyline in all its choking gray glory, but even that view couldn’t distract from the storm brewing between us. My son, seated with an infuriating calm behind his desk, stared at me with those cold, calculating eyes that reminded me far too much of Madelin in her sharpest, most ruthless years.“Damian,” I said, trying to keep my tone steady though my temples throbbed with exhaustion and suppressed rage, “this idea of yours is premature. You’re talking about draining our remaining capital for a gamble. Tech, AI, rare-earth minerals? You want to throw us into a ring with giants who’ve been boxing blindfolded for decades and still come out swinging?”He didn’t flinch. Not even a twitch of the brow. “We do not adapt, we die,” he replied, voice smooth, authoritative, and maddeningly self-assured. “You know this, Father. We’ve been bleeding s
Jonathan’s POVShe sat in the dappled light like a vision out of time. Her dress was long, flowing, a sea of flowers captured in silk. Over it, she wore a plain sport jacket, slightly oversized, but stylish. Her legs were crossed, the slit of her dress revealing smooth, tan skin that went on forever. Her heels made them look even longer. My mouth went dry.She looked up and saw me, standing with a smile that made the breath hitch in my chest."Jonathan," she said, rising to her feet."Charlotte," I replied, forcing myself to walk forward, each step strangely heavy.She embraced me, soft and quick, the scent of her perfume drawing up old memories. She kissed my cheek and pulled back."These are for you," I said, offering her the bouquet.She took them gently, her eyes softening. "Jonathan. They’re beautiful.""I saw them and thought of you," I said, my voice thickening with more truth than I had expected.Her fingers traced the petals and she looked up at me with a teasing gleam in her
Jonathan’s POVIt had been one hell of a morning. Numbers bleeding red across every spreadsheet, shareholders breathing down necks like rabid wolves, and the finance team scrambling to put out metaphorical fires with eyedroppers of reason. I’d just come out of a three-hour meeting that felt like a slow, painful lobotomy. The markets were a mess. Half the portfolio had taken a dive, and the other half was clutching to stability like a drowning man to driftwood. But for now, I was back in my office, breathing again, the door closed to the world, finally beginning to decompress.The hum of the city pulsed below the windows of my corner office, a modest but modern space that I had insisted on carving for myself, far from the shadows of my father’s empire. No oak-paneled walls here. Just clean lines, steel and glass, a standing desk that I rarely used, and a few photos from a hiking trip I took to Colorado. I didn’t want his world. I had mine, and I was damn proud of it.I loosened my tie,
Damian’s POVMadelin tilted her head. Her eyes shimmered like glass just before it shatters. "They were right," she said. "I was not well, Damian. I know that now. I thought keeping my distance would protect you, but all I did was vanish from your life. And you needed me. I know that too."I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, fingers laced so tightly I could feel the blood stop at my knuckles. "I did need you. I still do. You’re my mother." My voice cracked. The shame hit me then, sudden and suffocating. "And I was angry. For a long time. I thought I hated you. But I didn’t. I just… I just didn’t understand. I still don’t. Maybe I never will. But I missed you. So much. Every single day."Madelin’s hand trembled slightly as she reached out and took mine. Her skin was warm, soft, and fragile. "I was not strong enough to be the mother you needed," she whispered, tears glistening along her lashes. "But I see you now. You’ve become everything I ever dreamed my son could be. And that’s not
Damian’s POVI came home earlier than usual, my tie already loosened and my jacket slung over one shoulder. The air outside still held the warmth of the afternoon sun, and I felt good, satisfied even. The dinner last night had gone better than I anticipated. The CEOs were sharp, inquisitive, and more importantly, intrigued by what we had to offer. The AI project and mineral expansion idea had landed well. And Louis, surprisingly, had been an asset. I hated to admit it, even in my own head, but the man knew how to talk tech. His enthusiasm for innovation was genuine, almost boyish. For a moment, I had nearly forgotten the disgust that still curdled in my stomach when I remembered everything he had done to Emily.I could never forgive him for that. Not just the betrayal, but the weakness, the spinelessness. Maya had manipulated him, yes, but only because he let her. And Emily, radiant, loyal, fragile and fierce, paid the price. But life had shifted, and now we were bound in this awkward