Mag-log inThen he turns, and the world simply stops.Their eyes meet, and Jade’s pulse stumbles, a frantic, uneven rhythm that betrays her. He stands there, half-clad and dangerous, exuding a raw authority that makes her twenty years feel like a lifetime away from his forty.“You’re… not red anymore,” she manages, her voice small.His gaze dips, heavy and intentional, as it brushes over her mouth before lifting back to her eyes. “Medicine works,” he says, his voice a low vibration. “Apparently.”There it is. That composure. That infuriating, adult calm that makes her want to scream or melt—she isn’t sure which.“I’m sorry,” she rushes out, the words tumbling over each other. “I should’ve remembered your allergy. I don’t know why I didn’t think about the jasmine—”“I’ll only accept your apology,” he interrupts, his tone shifting into something darker, more velvet, “if you make it up to me.”Jade’s stomach flips. The air in the kitchen feels suddenly too thin. “What do you want?”A slow, devasta
****BACK AT THE ESTATE***** “I’ll show you the rest of the house.” Jade nods and follows, the weight of his jacket still resting on her shoulders. Jade notices it gradually. The way conversations stop when she enters a room. The way eyes drop too quickly. The way two maids nearly collide trying to step out of her path. She pauses under the hallway arch. “Why are they behaving like that?” Nanny Flo offers a careful smile. “It’s nothing serious. The staff can be… dramatic. They’re often nervous around the young master. They tend to say foolish things.” “Nervous?” Jade frowns. “Why?” A younger servant, polishing a side table a little too aggressively, lets out a brittle laugh. “You don’t know him,” she says before she can stop herself. “Not really. He’s not what you think.” Nanny Flo stiffens. “That’s enough.” But the servant’s eyes lock on Jade now — bright, reckless. “He’s violent,” she blurts. “Hot-tempered. A cruel beast when he wants to be.” Cruel. Jade’s stomach twi
Kain is still fighting the faint sting in his lungs from the jasmine when he steps onto the pavement. The air feels too thin. His eyes are slightly red, jaw tight, irritation crawling under his skin. He despises weakness — especially the kind his own body forces on him. Losing control, even for a moment, feels like failure. He pulls out his phone and dials. She answers on the first ring. “Is it positive?,” Aunt Sylvia says immediately, straight to the point. No time for greetings. “Not yet.” His voice is clipped, carefully neutral. “And I hate that I’m doing this.” A beat. “But it’s working.” A soft chuckle hums through the line. “You owe me.” “I know.” “You owe me beautiful grandchildren.” Despite himself, his mouth curves. “Let’s not schedule my wife’s uterus like it’s a quarterly meeting. Children happen when she wants them.” “Please. So protective already?” “Always.” He doesn’t hesitate when he says as it settles into his chest. Silence stretches between them, thought
“You said you wanted to understand her properly.” “I do.” He nods once. “Then this is where she lives. All of her.” Something in the way he says it makes her glance at him. He isn’t looking at her. He’s looking at the desk. Jade steps forward and picks up the first bundle. The paper is thin with age. As she loosens the ribbon, a soft cloud of dust rises into the air. She barely turns before she sneezes. Once. Twice. Then again—sharp and breathless. She waves at the air, cheeks warming. The sound echoes too loudly in the still room. Kain goes rigid. The shift is immediate. His shoulders tighten. His jaw locks. For a split second, anger flashes across his face—quick and reflexive. Then it changes. “Nanny Flo,” he says, his voice slicing through the quiet. “Why is this room not being maintained?” Nanny Flo hurries in from the hallway. “Kain, it hasn’t been opened properly since—” “Since the funeral?” His tone sharpens. “And that means it should gather dust?”
…He was laughing. Bright-eyed. Seated on his grandmother’s lap, utterly unguarded. Elba Vanridge Wolf. The sight pierces her unexpectedly. Behind her, he stiffens. He hates that she sees this version of him. “So this is where you grew up,” she says quietly. “Parts of me were raised here.” “And the rest?” His gaze flicks to hers. “The rest learned not to be.” No sarcasm. No deflection. Nanny Flo gestures toward a wooden music box resting on the table. “Madam Elba kept this until her last day. She wanted you to have it.” The room stills. Kain steps forward and lifts it carefully. A melody spills into the room — soft, aching, fragile. Jade doesn’t move closer. She doesn’t touch him. She simply stays. And somehow that steadiness feels louder than comfort. As the tune continues, she drifts down the hallway. A framed photograph catches her attention. Teenage Kain. Holding a small child with protective ease. Her brows lift. Before she can ask, he steps behind her.
“But if you don’t come with me, the project stalls. And if the project stalls…” His eyes flick toward the building. “…you lose this job.” His gaze returns to her face. “All that work for a fake id… Mia.” The name rolls off his tongue deliberately. He extends his hand. “Come.” The world feels very small. She hates that he’s right. She hates that he knows he’s right. A faint smirk touches his mouth. “Unless you want me to carry you.” Her pride ignites instantly. Without another word, she places her hand in his. His fingers close around hers. And she lets him guide her into the car. Across the parking lot, Clarice watches — her expression tight with suspicion and jealousy. The door shuts and the outside noise disappears. Inside, the space feels intimate. Almost suffocating. Kain slides in beside her. Instead of letting the driver lean in, he reaches across her himself and pulls the seatbelt over her body. Slowly. Unhurried. His arm brushes lightly against her chest. H
The faint ticking of the clock grew louder, each second landing like a quiet verdict. He dragged a hand through his hair, his chest tightening as competing truths crowded him. A dying fiancée waiting for a future she deserved. A woman already bound to him without knowing. A child sleeping somew
‘Love will ruin you’ Kain looked at Jade. No. Love was not something he would surrender because it was inconvenient. He would not become the man who taught him to fear it. He stood there, soaked, exposed, the weight of his choices pressing down on him. And still, even now, even knowing what th
Why did it feel like she was slipping away when she was never really his to begin with? Kain stood at the edge of the yacht, the night stretched open around him, black water breathing softly below. He lifted the small bubble wand to his lips and blew. Fragile spheres floated into the dark, catchi
The words pierced Jade somewhere tender. If only you knew, she thought. If only you knew the man you raised. Rob couldn’t even be honest with his own mother about the truth. About the breakup. About the cruelty he wore so easily. Mario’s voice pushed through again, urgent. “Jade. Decide.







