로그인Lila's POV If someone had told me a year ago that a one night stand with my boss would lead to this moment, I would have laughed in disbelief. But here I am, standing in front of a mirror, wearing a white dress that feels far too beautiful to belong to me, about to walk down the aisle to marry the man I once thought I could never have. The soft hum of music fills the air, gentle and warm, wrapping around me like a familiar memory. The room smells faintly of roses white and blush pink and as I take a slow breath, I catch my reflection again. My hair is pinned perfectly, a few curls left loose to frame my face, and my veil sits delicately over my shoulders. For a second, I almost don’t recognize the woman staring back. I could see someone who has fought battles she never thought she would win.Someone who loved, lost, and somehow found her way back to love again. I see traces of the scared, uncertain girl who once walked into Drew Sinclair’s office, nervous, inexperienced, and
Hospitals had a way of swallowing time. The days didn’t pass, they just melted into one another, an endless blur of beeping machines, sterile walls, and the quiet hum of air conditioners that never stopped. I lost track of how many sunrises came and went while I sat beside Drew’s bed, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, praying it would never stop. He looked so still. Too still. Every time I saw his face, pale against the white pillow, a wave of helplessness washed over me. I kept expecting him to open his eyes, flash that teasing grin, and tell me I worried too much. But each day ended the same way with me whispering words into the void, hoping somehow, he could still hear me. “I’m right here,” I would say, my fingers tracing the back of his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? So don’t you dare leave me either.” Sometimes, I would talk to him like he was awake, tell him about Isabelle, how her tiny fingers curled perfectly around mine, how she looked like him
Drew’s POV The warehouse was too quiet. That was the first thing that set every nerve in my body on edge. The second was the faint sound I thought I heard; a whimper, so soft it could have been my imagination. But I knew that sound. I would know it anywhere. It was Isabelle my daughter. I moved faster, heart pounding hard against my ribs. My shoes scuffed against the concrete floor as I called out into the darkness. “Lila?” No answer. My voice echoed, swallowed by the emptiness around me. The smell of rust and dust filled my lungs as I stepped deeper into the shadows, every muscle in my body coiled tight. “Lila, answer me!” That was when I heard it. A click. Sharp and distinct and then a voice, one I had not heard in months, but some how still managed to crawl beneath my skin like poison. “Don’t move, Sinclair.” The sound came from the corner of the room. Max stepped forward slowly, the faint light catching on the gun in his hand. His hair was unkempt, his e
Lila's POV The house was too quiet. That was the first thing I noticed when I came downstairs that morning. Mrs. Dalia’s humming was not floating from the kitchen like it always did, and Drew had already left for a meeting. Isabelle’s soft cries usually echoed through the hall by now. But this time there was silence. A silence that immediately set my heart on edge. “Mrs. Dalia?” I called, forcing a calm I didn’t feel. No answer. I walked faster toward the nursery, my bare feet pressing against the cool marble floor. The door was half open. A faint breeze slipped through the curtains. “Isabelle?” I pushed the door wider and my heart stopped. The crib was empty. The soft pink blanket I had tucked around her this morning was on the floor. The mobile above the crib turned lazily in the air, like something had brushed past it. “Isabelle?” My voice cracked. “No... no, no…” Panic clawed at my throat as I tore through the room, my trembling hands checking behind the crib, the clos
Lila's POV The ride home was supposed to feel like peace. Like the closing of a dark chapter. But it didn’t. I sat quietly in the passenger seat, Isabelle sleeping soundly in her carrier beside me. The soft rhythm of her breathing was the only thing steady in a world that suddenly felt fragile. Drew drove in silence, his hand resting lightly on the steering wheel. Every few seconds, his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror not because he liked to drive cautiously, but because he was watching. Always watching and of course I noticed. And the truth was, I was watching, too. Every sound outside the window made my heart jump. Every passing car felt like a shadow trailing us. I knew it was irrational, that we were supposed to be safe now, but the thought would not leave me. Kimberley was still out there and so was Max. The police had not found either of them, and the idea of two people, both tied to my pain somewhere out there, breathing the same air as my daughter, made m
Lila’s POV Somewhere in the haze between pain and dreams, I heard someone crying. It was faint at first, muffled like sound traveling through water but it was enough to pull me from the dark. My body felt heavy, like I had been asleep for years, but that sound… it anchored me. When I finally managed to open my eyes, the first thing I saw was him. Drew. He was sitting by my bedside, shoulders bent, head bowed, his hands tangled in mine. His dark hair fell loose over his forehead, and his eyes, God even through the dim hospital light, I could see the rawness there. He was crying silently. Not the loud kind. Not the kind that came from weakness. But the kind that came from love, fear and everything breaking open at once. I did not move at first. I just lay there, my gaze fixed on him, listening to the quiet sound of his breathing between those small, aching sobs. And for a long time, I simply watched. He looked exhausted. His shirt was wrinkled, stained and I recognized the dark







