LOGINLYSANDER'S POV: Vladimir Drakon had been quiet since Kier's death and his son Nikolai's imprisonment. That was what worried me. I had spent years in this world, learning to read the spaces between moves, and I knew what silence from a man like Vladimir meant. It did not mean gone. It did not mean defeated. It meant patience. It meant watching from somewhere I could not yet see, waiting for the moment I dropped my guard. I had not dropped my guard. I had informants in places that would make most people uncomfortable to know about. Eyes and ears embedded in the quieter corners of the underworld, people who reported to people who reported to me through channels deliberately designed to be tedious to trace. One of them, a woman connected to a man who is connected to another man who owed me a favour, came to me with news that settled in my chest like cold water. She sat across from my desk with her hands folded in her lap, composed in the way that people who work dangerous jobs learn
MAXWELL'S POV:The hospital room fills up quickly.Lysander comes first, with Celestine and Elara and Alistair. He looks at my daughter with those gray eyes and his face softens in a way I have never seen before."She is beautiful," he says. "She looks just like Athena.""She has Maxwell's smile," Celestine says. "And I know some of Athena's stubbornness."Athena glares at her. "My stubbornness is a gift."Celestine grins. "A gift to all of us."Elara tugs on my sleeve. She is four now, still quiet, still cautious, but more confident than she was when she first arrived. She looks at the baby with wide green eyes."Is that my cousin?" she asks."It is," I say. "Her name is Isabelle."Elara nods. "She is small.""Babies are very small."Alistair is in Lysander's arms. He is almost a year old, his dark hair thick and his gray eyes bright. He reaches toward his sister, his hand grabbing at the air. He does not understand what is happening, not really. But he knows that something important
ATHENA'S POV:A Few Months Later…I give birth to a daughter some months after my wedding.The labor is long. Longer than I expected. Longer than I prepared for. I spent my whole pregnancy reading books and attending classes and convincing myself that I was ready for this. But nothing could have prepared me for the reality of it. The pain. The exhaustion. The moment when the doctor looks at me and says, "One more push," and I think I cannot do it, I cannot do it, I cannot do it.But I do it. I do it because I have to. I do it because my daughter is waiting. I do it because Maxwell is holding my hand and telling me that I am amazing, that I am strong, that I can do this.She is born at 6 AM on a Tuesday and she is tiny and perfect and she has Maxwell's smile and my stubbornness.They place her on my chest. Her skin is warm against mine. Her eyes are closed. Her tiny fingers are curled into fists. She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.I look up at Maxwell. He is standing bes
LYSANDER'S POV:"Are you a happy baby?" she asks him. "Are you a happy, happy baby?"Alistair gurgles. She laughs. A real laugh. The first one I have heard from her.I back away slowly, careful not to disturb them. I find Celestine in the kitchen. She is making tea, her back to me, her shoulders tense."Celestine," I say.She turns. Her eyes are red."Elara called me Mummy," she says.I freeze."What?""She called me Mummy. Just now. She was playing with Alistair and she looked up and she said, 'Mummy, can I have some juice?'""Did you give her the juice?""I gave her the juice. And then I came in here and I cried."I walk over to her. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close."Happy tears?" I ask."Happy tears," she says. "The happiest tears ever."I hold her. Her body shakes with silent sobs."You are a good person, Celestine Valancourt Ashcroft," I say. "The best person I know."She looks up at me. Her brown eyes are wet."I am just trying to do the right thing," she says."Tha
CELESTINE'S POV:Bringing Elara home is not easy.I knew it would not be easy. I prepared myself for the tears and the hiding and the quiet, wary looks that she gave me every time I walked into a room. I told myself that it would take time, that she would need space, that I could not force her to love me or trust me or even like me.But knowing something and living through it are two very different things.The first week is the hardest.Elara cries at night. I hear her through the walls, the sound of her small sobs muffled by her pillow. I want to go to her. I want to hold her and tell her that everything is going to be okay. But I know that rushing into her room in the middle of the night will only scare her more. So I wait. I sit in the hallway outside her door, my back against the wall, my hand pressed against my mouth to keep myself from crying too.She calls me "Celestine." Not "Mummy." Not "Mom." Just Celestine, the name of the stranger who took her from the only home she has ev
CELESTINE'S POV: We bring Elara to her room. It is the room we prepared for her, the one with the pink walls and the soft blankets and the stuffed animals that I bought weeks ago, hoping and praying that she would come home with us. There is a bed with a white canopy and a bookshelf full of picture books and a window that looks out over the garden. She stands in the middle of the room, her small hands clasped in front of her, her eyes moving slowly across the walls. I watch her face. Her expression is guarded but something flickers in her eyes. I think it might be wonder. "Do you like it?" I ask. She nods. "It is pretty." "You can change anything you want. The color of the walls. The furniture. The blankets. This is your room. Your space. You can make it whatever you want it to be." She looks at me. Her green eyes are wide. "Anything?" she asks. "Anything." She is quiet for a moment. Then she walks over to the bookshelf and pulls out a book. It is a picture book about a litt
Lysander POV:The night air is cold and damp, the grass wet under my shoes. The security guards are still holding Kier down, but they are not hurting him, just restraining him, keeping him from stumbling toward the house. Kier is crying now, ugly broken sobs that shake his whole body, his face pres
KIER'S POV:I do not remember deciding to drive to Valancourt House.One moment I am sitting in my empty penthouse, staring at the walls, drinking whiskey straight from the bottle because glasses take too long and I do not care anymore. And the next moment I am in my car, speeding down the motorway
Sable's POV:I have been packing for hours. My bags are by the door. The baby's things are in the car. Everything is ready.He sees the bags and his face contorts. Something flickers in his eyes, something that might be fear or might be anger or might be the desperate realization that he is about t
Kier's POV:I stand up slightly, pushing my chair back, and grip her head with both hands. “Open your throat for me, baby.”Then I fuck her face.I thrust into her warm, willing mouth with deep, steady strokes, using her like a toy. She gags loudly every time I push past her gag reflex, tears strea







