For a year, I’d lived a double life. During the day, I am Lila Montgomery, the heiress of Montgomery Industries. At night, I am just Lila, the woman Ethan was falling for. Or so I thought.“Grace,” he’d murmured in his sleep one night, his arms tightening around me. “Don’t leave again.” That was the first crack in my fantasy. The final crack that ended our so-called relationship was when he accused me of wanting to trap him with a baby. Now just days later, my mother wants me to meet Nicholas Baldwin, Ethan’s uncle. “Might be exactly what you need to forget his nephew.” I ignored my brother’s teasing, walking past him. “I don’t need another Baldwin man in my life.” But seeing Ethan now in person and with Grace by his side… “Nick,” I whispered urgently, “I need a huge favor.” He must have heard the desperation in my voice, “Name it.” “Pretend to be my boyfriend.”
View More(Ethan)I sat in my car for nearly twenty minutes, unable to join Cara and James where sat eating in a restaurant. Grace’s words still rang in my ears, stripping away the comfortable lies I’d told myself.“The way you still look at Lila…You haven’t fully let go, Ethan.”Was she right? Had I been fooling myself all this time?Cara approached my window, tapping lightly. She’d said the same thing to me the night I’d proposed, and I hadn’t even noticed her leaving the restaurant with James.“Everything okay?” she asked as I rolled down the window. “We’ve been waiting.”“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Got lost in thought.”The drive home was mostly silent, with James occasionally sharing observations about his mother’s changed appearance or demeanor. Cara kept glancing my way, clearly sensing my internal turmoil.When we arrived home, James ran inside to call Lila and tell her about the visit. I lingered in the driveway, dreading the conversation I knew Cara wanted to have.“Are you going to tell me
(Ethan)Grace glanced at Cara gratefully. “Your therapist is very wise.”“She helps me when I have bad dreams about the closet,” James said.I tensed, waiting for Grace’s reaction to this direct reference to her abuse. Her face crumpled momentarily before she regained control.“I am so sorry about the closet, James. Whenever I think about putting you in there, I feel sick with shame. No child should ever be treated that way.”“It was dark,” James said softly. “And I cried for you, but you didn’t come.”A tear escaped down Grace’s cheek. “I know. And I will regret that for the rest of my life.”The conversation continued, James gradually asking more questions about their past—each one like a small knife slicing into Grace. She answered everything honestly, never minimizing her actions or making excuses.After about twenty minutes, Dr. Frey suggested a short break. Grace excused herself while James stayed with us.“You’re doing really well,” Cara told James. “How are you feeling?”“Okay
(Ethan)I gripped the steering wheel tightly as we approached Pine Grove Rehabilitation Center.James sat silently in the backseat, dressed in his nicest clothes as if for a special occasion. Cara rode beside me, her presence both professional and personal support.“Remember what we discussed,” she said quietly. “The first few minutes will set the tone. Stay neutral, watch James’s cues, and be prepared to end the meeting if necessary.”I nodded tensely. We’d spent the week preparing for this moment—consulting other therapists, establishing ground rules, designing a safe environment for the reunion.Still, my stomach twisted with anxiety.“Is Lila coming?” James asked from the backseat.“No, buddy,” I replied. “Just us today.”“Because she doesn’t want me to see Mom?”The perceptiveness of children never ceased to amaze me. “She’s concerned, that’s all, but she respects that this is important to you.”The facility looked more like a resort than a psychiatric center, with trimmed ground
(Ethan)“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, buddy,” I replied. “With everything else going on—”“But if she’s better,” James persisted, “maybe she won’t be mean anymore.”The hope in his voice broke my heart. Despite everything Grace had done, she was still his mother—the only one he’d known until Cara entered our lives.“It’s more complicated than that,” I tried to explain. “People don’t just get ‘fixed’ in therapy. It takes time, consistent effort—”“But you just said people can change,” James interrupted. “Like how Uncle Nick accidentally killed someone, but he is a good person now.”“This is different,” I insisted.“Why?”The simple question stopped me short. From a child’s perspective, the distinction wasn’t clear. We taught forgiveness, second chances, and redemption, then withheld those very things when it came to Grace.Cara touched my arm gently. “Perhaps we should discuss this more before making any decisions.”I nodded, grateful for the reprieve. “James, finish you
(Ethan)I watched James pick at his breakfast, pushing scrambled eggs around his plate without eating.“You need to eat something before school,” I said gently.“I’m not going,” he replied, not looking up. “I told you yesterday.”“James,” I sighed, sitting beside him. “You can’t hide from this. Running away doesn’t solve problems.”“Everyone’s talking about it,” he muttered. “Calling us weird. Saying Uncle Nick is a murderer.”“Those are adult situations that children shouldn’t be discussing,” I tried to explain. “And they certainly don’t have all the facts.”“Then what are the facts?” James challenged, finally meeting my eyes. “Did Uncle Nick really kill someone?”I considered my response carefully. “Something terrible happened many years ago. A man died, and Uncle Nick was involved. But it’s much more complicated than what the news is saying.”“So he did kill someone?”“James—”“Just tell me the truth!” he demanded, his voice cracking. “Everyone else knows!”Before I could respond,
(Ethan)I scanned the tabloid headline in horror.BALDWIN-MONTGOMERY FAMILY FEUD: SHIPPING WARS AND PATERNITY QUESTIONS.The article beneath was worse—a detailed exposé on our business conflict, speculation about Fleur’s biological parentage referencing Grace’s old comments, and thinly veiled references to Nick’s “criminal past” in shipping.“How did they get this information?” I demanded, slamming the paper down on our kitchen counter. “The details about your past were never public!”Nick looked grim, scrolling through similar stories on his tablet. “Someone leaked it. The question is who.”“It has to be someone close to us,” I said, pacing the kitchen. “Someone with access to private family information.”“You think Maxwell…?”“No,” said Lila firmly. “He wouldn’t. He promised me.”The elevator dinged, announcing Ethan’s arrival with James for his weekend visit. My stomach knotted. How much had James already seen or heard at school?“Hey Uncle Nick! Hey Aunt Lila!” James called, bound
(Nick)I stood at the window of my office, watching rain streak down the glass. The Boston treatment for Fleur had begun three days ago, and though early reports were promising, the separation was killing me.Lila had remained at the hospital, sleeping on a cot beside our daughter’s bed, while I shuttled between Boston and New York, trying to manage both family crisis and business obligations.My phone rang. Harlow’s name flashed on the screen.“Any news?” I asked immediately.“Not about your daughter,” Harlow replied. “But there’s a visitor in the lobby requesting to see you. Miss Renaud.”The name made me stagger back. Miss Renaud? Jean-Paul’s daughter, the little girl Lila and I had named our own child after, the daughter who’d lost her father to my actions?“Fleur? Is her mother with her?”“Not his daughter,” said Harlow. “His sister Victoire.”“Victoire…yes, I remember. His little sister…did she say what she wants?” I asked, my throat tight.“Only that it’s important. She’s been
(Alexander)Despite the late hour, the pediatric ward was bustling with activity. I found Nick in the hallway outside Fleur’s room, speaking intently with a doctor.“Alexander,” he acknowledged when he saw me. “Thanks for coming.”“How is she?” I asked, referring to both Fleur and my sister.“Fleur’s stable,” Nick replied after the doctor departed. “Temporary setback before the Boston transfer. Lila, on the other hand…”He gestured through the door’s window. Inside, Lila sat vigilant beside Fleur’s crib, her back rigid with exhaustion and stress. She’d pushed chairs against the door and rearranged furniture to block direct sight lines to the crib.“Has she slept?” I asked, noting the dark circles under my sister’s eyes.“Not really,” Nick admitted. “Since I told her about the security threat, she’s been…intense.”“You told her everything?”“She deserved to know,” Nick defended. “But now she won’t leave Fleur’s side for even a minute. Won’t let the nurses take her for tests without acc
(Alexander)I paced my office, watching the digital clock tick toward the meeting time. Both Ethan and Nick had agreed to come, setting aside our business conflicts in the face of a security threat.Whether their cooperation would extend beyond this immediate crisis remained to be seen.The door opened as Lewis ushered them in. The tension was immediate—Nick’s rigid posture, Ethan’s neutral expression. Rivals forced into the same room.“Thank you for coming,” I said, gesturing to the chairs around my conference table. “This stays between us for now.”“Your message mentioned Robert’s people,” Nick said, settling into a chair. “What’s happened?”I outlined the situation—Verati’s appearance at the gala, the surveillance, the threatening gift acknowledging Romy’s pregnancy.“They believe she has access to Robert’s hidden accounts,” I surmised. “Accounts we didn’t even know existed until now.”“Where is Romy?” Ethan asked, his security instincts evident in his rapid assessment of the threa
(Lila)I laid on top of Ethan in his king-sized bed, still catching my breath, enjoying the warmth of his body beneath mine. My heart was still racing from our passionate encounter, but my mind had already wandered to something else—something that had been consuming my thoughts all day.“Where’s my anniversary present?” I asked playfully, tracing lazy patterns on his chest with my finger. The silk sheets rustled beneath us as I shifted to look at his face, expecting to see that familiar warm smile.“What anniversary?”Two words. Just two simple words, but they made my entire body freeze. We had been seeing each other for exactly one year now. Three hundred and sixty-five days of stolen moments, passionate nights, and what I thought was growing love. My jewelry designer friend had told me just last week that Ethan had bought a ring. I’d been floating on cloud nine ever since, imagining the perfect moment he would propose.Surely he was teasing me. He had to be. I forced a chuckle an...
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