LOGINDAMON'S POV: I did not give her an immediate answer. I simply held her hand gently and guided her toward the edge of the terrace where the railing offered a clear view of the city below. We stood together for a few moments in the quiet night, taking in the peaceful scene while the soft golden lights reflected in her eyes. "It is so beautiful," she murmured softly. "This is easily one of the most wonderful things I have ever seen." "It is not the most beautiful thing in my sight," I replied gently. She turned her head to look up at me, her brow furrowing slightly in playful confusion. "What do you mean?" I looked down at her face, taking in every detail. I looked at her soft hair falling loosely across her shoulders, her warm brown eyes filled with affection, and the sweet smile I had grown to love more than anything else in this world. "You are," I told her plainly. "You are the most wonderful sight in my life." A soft blush colored her cheeks. Even after all t
A Few Weeks Later…DAMON'S POV:The thought came to me in the middle of a peaceful night.I woke up around three in the morning, my pulse moving a bit fast, my mind completely clear, and the lingering traces of a quiet dream slowly fading away. I turned my head on the pillow, expecting to see Isabelle resting beside me. However, she was not in the room. She was over in her designated workspace down the hall, the room she had set up when she first stayed over, where she liked to gather her thoughts and work on her stories whenever inspiration struck.I lay there for a long time, looking up at the ceiling, thinking about everything we had been through together. I thought about the easy way she laughed when she was relaxed. I thought about the soft, gentle way she looked over at me when she thought I was busy with something else. I thought about the incredible courage she showed back at the cabin, standing her ground without hesitation to make sure I stayed safe.My mind kept going
MAXWELL'S POV:She sat up straight, giving me her full attention. "Who is the gentleman?""Damon Varek."She stared at me in surprise, her expression shifting through several thoughts at once as the name registered in her mind."The groundskeeper's son," she whispered, a small smile appearing on her lips. "The young boy who used to make her laugh so easily. The one who promised to take care of her when they grew up.""The very same man."She stayed quiet for a few moments, processing the news, before standing up and walking over to sit beside me. She reached out and took both of my hands in hers."We need to go visit him, Maxwell," she said softly.I looked at my wife, slightly surprised by her quick response. "You are not upset or concerned about this?""Concerned?" She offered a warm, comforting laugh that filled the quiet room. "Maxwell, we have watched our daughter spend years attending polite dinners with men who never truly understood her. We watched her smile politely,
MAXWELL'S POV:I was sitting in my top floor office at the Valancourt company building, reviewing a stack of quarterly reports that I had already gone through several times, when my phone screen lit up with Isabelle's name. I picked it up right away. I always answered immediately whenever my daughter reached out. She was my constant source of pride, the biggest reason I worked so hard every day, and the motivation behind every difficult decision I made to keep our family business standing strong and yes, including my sons too."Hello, Dad," she said. Her voice sounded noticeably different over the line. It was light, cheerful, and full of genuine warmth. "I have something important to share with you."I leaned back in my leather desk chair, instantly preparing myself for whatever situation she was facing. Over the years, parenting had taught me to stay ready for any sudden challenge, whether it was an unexpected problem or a tough situation that needed my immediate attention."I
DAMON'S POV:They sat side by side with their hands folded, looking completely subdued. They resembled two individuals who had been caught doing something improper and were waiting to hear the outcome of their actions.I looked across at them without any emotional noise or tension in my mind, no lingering anger, no resentment, just total clarity about where we stood."I know the full story of what happened years ago," I said calmly.My mother's face lost its color. "What are you talking about, Damon?""Isabelle heard the conversation you two had before I left all those years ago," I explained. "She heard you discussing her family, her status, and how you planned to use our connection to benefit yourselves."My father opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, looking entirely flustered."That is not—we never intended to—""Do not bother lying about it," I interrupted softly.My tone was measured, flat, and completely firm, the exact voice I used when dealing with serious matt
DAMON'S POV:The chime at the front entryway sounded precisely at eleven o'clock in the morning.I was sitting on the comfortable sofa in the main sitting room, my leg resting on a soft pillow while an unopened book lay across my lap. Isabelle was over in the kitchen area preparing hot tea, humming a quiet melody to herself. The entire residence felt calm and peaceful, offering the quietness atmosphere that naturally settles over a home after a major ordeal has passed.The sudden chime broke the peaceful moment instantly.I heard the soft sound of Isabelle's shoes as she walked across the foyer toward the entrance. I heard a brief, quiet murmur of voices near the doorway, and then she called out to me from the hall."Damon," she said, her voice sounding calm but careful. "Your parents have arrived."I closed the hardback book, set it down on the side table beside my seat, and took a slow, steady breath.My parents, Martha and Victor Varek. The two people who had raised me in t
The first time Kier met Sable Morwenna was at a charity gala about six months after his father died.He was standing by the bar, looking miserable, drinking too much and wishing he could leave. And then this woman just appeared next to him, like she had materialized out of thin air."You look like
Celestine started cooking at three in the afternoon, flour on her hands, music playing low from her phone and the smell of tomatoes and garlic filling the whole penthouse.She made the sauce from scratch, the way her grandmother taught her when she was maybe ten years old. She rolled out the pasta
Kier Thornwell looked like he belonged on a magazine cover even when he was just standing in an elevator. Thirty eight years old. Strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Eyes so dark brown they looked black. A mouth that rarely smiled, but when it did, women forgot their own names. Six foot two. Carried h
The forgotten anniversaries. There had been three of those. Three times she had dressed up nice and made dinner and waited and waited and waited until finally getting a text that said "working late sorry" with no exclamation points, no emojis, no nothing.The cruel comments. Those were worse."You







