The cold air of Denmark greeted me the moment I stepped out of the car. The house in front of me wasn’t anything extravagant—it was small, modern, and tucked away in a quiet, remote area. But what caught my eye wasn’t the house.It was the men.They were everywhere. Standing guard, pacing silently, some eyeing me with suspicion. I held onto the strap of my bag tightly and followed Matthew inside. Every step felt heavier than the last.The house looked normal, cozy even. But I knew better—this wasn’t home. This was a cage dressed in warmth.Matthew placed his hand on my shoulder, gently but firmly, like he was trying to remind me of something—of who he was to me before.“Angel,” he said, using the old call sign he used back then. I flinched, but said nothing.“This will be our safe haven,” he added, gesturing around the place.He walked me through the house, showing me each room—the kitchen, the living area, a small library, and a guest room that looked more like a surveillance space t
Every night, my children and Elijah haunted me. I can't sleep well thinking about them.I can't sleep thinking about how Eloah’s asthma is. Does he still keep his inhaler beside him like I taught him? Is someone checking on him when the air gets too cold?I can't sleep thinking if Eliana can sleep without me by her side. She used to curl up beside me, her tiny fingers always reaching for mine in the dark.I can't sleep thinking if Elijah… is finding me. If he's trying. If he’s losing sleep too. If he's blaming himself.I feel like I’m going insane here, and all I want now is to go home. As hard as it is to admit, I don’t think I’ll succeed with my plan. There are too many guards outside—armed, built like tanks... I know they won’t hurt me because I’m sure Matthew told them not to. But I’m also certain he instructed them to keep an eye on me every minute, every hour. Damn it.Maren was gently brushing my hair, her touch light and careful. She offered to do it earlier, saying it would h
In one blink of my eye, I saw Matthew clutching his arm, blood seeping through his fingers. He gritted his teeth, but he kept moving, dragging me with him behind a broken wall for cover.“Elijah…” I whispered, almost like a prayer, my eyes desperately searching the scene. My heart refused to believe it wasn’t him.Matthew snapped his head toward me, his face twisted in pain and fury. “It’s not Elijah!”But I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. “It is him,” I said through shaky breaths. “I know it’s him. I can feel it—he came back for me, Matthew!”His jaw clenched, breath heaving. “I'm telling you, Eloise! This is not Elijah!” His jaw clenched, breath heaving. “I'm telling you, Eloise! This is not Elijah!”I snapped.I shoved him back with all the strength I had left, my hands trembling, my vision blurred with tears. “It *is* Elijah! I know it! Why can’t you just admit it?!”Matthew looked stunned, caught off guard.“Why can’t you just give me up to him, Matthew?!” I screamed, voice cracking.
Tears streamed down my face as Farah told me everything—every horrible detail.Noel killed Uncle Sandro. Just because he refused to sign that damn petition. Just because he stood for what was right.Farah was lucky to escape, all thanks to Matthew… and now here we are, clinging to each other like broken pieces trying to fit back together.I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, my voice shaky. “What about them, Farah? My kids… Elijah? Do you know anything?”Her face fell, and my heart dropped all over again."Days after you left, Elijah... also left the country, El,” Farah said, her voice low. “He brought the kids with him. Uncle Sandro and I tried to connect with him, but… we couldn’t anymore. He disappeared.”I froze.“What do you mean disappeared?” My voice was sharp, panicked.Farah shook her head, wiping her tears. “We don’t know where he went. He cut everyone off.”Farah lowered her gaze. “Maybe… maybe he just got tired, El. Of the push and pull, the hiding, the danger—everyt
"Congratulations, Mrs. Dawson. You are two weeks pregnant."I blinked, frozen in place on the couch as those words sank in. My eyes shifted from the doctor to Farah, whose mouth was slightly open in shock, then to Matthew—who was standing stiff across the room, silent.A bittersweet ache spread in my chest. I should be happy, right? New life. A child. But nothing felt right. Not the place, not the timing. Not even the father.Farah slowly reached for my hand, squeezing it. “El…”The doctor packed up her things and gave a polite smile before excusing herself, leaving the three of us in heavy silence.I couldn't even look at Matthew.This wasn’t how I imagined finding out. Not here. Not like this.I laughed sarcastically, the sound dry and bitter. “Great. Pregnancy in this kind of situation.”Farah didn’t say anything. She just stared at me, worry etched deep into her face.Matthew took a slow step forward but didn’t speak.I looked at them both, then placed a hand on my stomach.“Of al
The next morning, I waited until Matthew left—he said something about a meeting, but I didn’t even register the details. I just nodded, watching him walk out the door like nothing was wrong, like I didn’t hear the truth bleeding from his lips last night.As soon as the door closed, I made my way to the kitchen where Maren was pretending to fix the sink. Her back was to me, but I knew she felt my presence.“I heard everything,” I said coldly.She froze, her hand tightening around the towel she was holding. “Heard what?”I stepped closer, my heart pounding. “Last night. You. Him. His sickness. One year. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”Maren slowly turned to face me, her expression unreadable. “I don’t know what you think you heard, Eloise, but—”“Stop it,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. “Don’t lie to me.”She opened her mouth like she was going to deny it again, but something in my eyes must’ve stopped her. Instead, she just looked away, lips pressed
I was seated on a cold chair, my hands tightly bound behind my back. I didn’t feel fear—or maybe I’d just gotten used to it. In front of me, Noel was pacing back and forth like he was putting a plan together in his head. He was holding a folder, and with every step closer, I could hear the slight crack of his clenched knuckles.“You know,” he began, staring at me, “I’ve waited years for this.”I didn’t respond. I just looked straight at him, right into his eyes. I didn’t blink. I didn’t flinch.He opened the folder. Photos. Documents. Papers I couldn’t quite make out. “All of this, Eloise,” he said as he spread them out on the table between us, “is proof of how weak you are as the heiress of your mother’s company.”I smiled bitterly. “That’s funny. Because while you were collecting those, I was figuring out how to bring you down without even having to touch a single gun.”He paused. Then grinned. “So you’re brave now?”“I’m not brave, Noel,” I answered, my voice hoarse but firm. “I’m
I can endure anything. Anything in this world. But the thought of my child suffering and getting hurt will be the end of me. The end of my sanity.Let them take my name. Let them strip me of my pride, of the company, of everything I’ve built, of everything she built. Let them break my body, tie my hands, chain my freedom—but not my children. Not Eliana’s soft laugh. Not Eloah’s gentle eyes. They are the last pure thing I have. The last reminder that something good still exists inside of me.If Noel touches even a strand of their hair, I swear—he won't just face a grieving mother. He'll face a monster he created with his own hands. One he's not ready for.Because if I have to burn this whole world just to keep them safe… I will.Noel’s smirk only grew wider, clearly enjoying the control he had over me.“Ah, there it is,” he said, his voice mockingly soft. “I hit a nerve, didn’t I? You see, Eloise, this is the kind of leverage I have over you. Your love for your children, your weakness
They say time heals all wounds. I used to think that was a lie we tell ourselves to make pain more bearable. But watching my family now… I know it’s not time that does the healing—it’s love.Life doesn’t go back to what it was. No—after everything that happened, it moves forward. Slowly. Quietly. And sometimes, beautifully.It’s been months since that chaotic morning when Eloah dropped that bomb during breakfast. Since then, things started changing around here. Not in the grand, dramatic way—but in small, healing ways.Eliana’s belly is growing now. She's finally smiling again. Some days are harder than others, but her strength reminds me of her mother. She spends most of her time with Eloise now—quiet conversations, warm hugs, even silent cries. It’s a bond they’re rebuilding, one I’m proud to watch from a distance. The moment I heard her scream from inside the delivery room, everything inside me stilled.Eliana—my daughter—my little girl, was about to become a mother.I was pacing
I needed air. I needed to get out of the house before I completely lost it.I found myself driving to Rafael’s place, the weight of everything pressing on me. I didn’t know why I ended up there, but I did. Maybe because he was the only one who could listen without offering judgment. Or maybe because I just needed to hear someone else’s voice that wasn’t full of disappointment or anger.Rafael answered the door, already holding a bottle of whiskey. No words were exchanged; he just handed me a glass and led me to the couch.“Talk,” he said, pouring his own drink.I sank into the couch, staring into my glass. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Raf. Eliana… she’s not the girl we raised. I thought we had a chance at fixing things, but I don’t know. She didn’t abort the baby, but she’s still a mess. I don’t understand what happened to her, to all of them.”Rafael didn’t interrupt, just took a swig of his drink, waiting for me to continue.“Everything I do feels like it’s wrong. Eloise and I,
I sat on the cold hospital couch, my hands clenched tightly in my lap as the ticking of the wall clock echoed in my ears. Elijah was pacing silently beside me, his jaw tense, arms crossed tightly over his chest.The door finally opened, and our family doctor—Dr. Ramirez—stepped in with a clipboard pressed to his chest, his expression unreadable.I stood immediately. “Doc? How is she?”Dr. Ramirez sighed, then gently closed the door behind him. “Eliana is stable now,” he began, voice calm. “She’s severely dehydrated and physically exhausted, but nothing that fluids and rest won’t fix.”Elijah exhaled sharply, relief flickering in his eyes—but only for a second.“There’s something else,” the doctor continued, shifting his weight. “She’s still pregnant.”My heart dropped.“What…?” I whispered.“She’s in her first trimester,” he said softly. “Roughly nine to ten weeks, based on her lab results and ultrasound. The bleeding wasn’t a miscarriage—it’s stress-induced. But the fetus is still th
The moment I heard Elijah's question, the moment I knew that his patience died.Between the two of us, Elijah was always the gentler one. The soft place to land. Especially when it came to our daughters, he always managed to calm the storm—even when I couldn’t. But hearing him now—his voice sharp, raw, filled with something close to rage—it scared the hell out of me.I took a shaky breath, stepping in fast, reaching for his arm. His shoulders were tense, fists clenched at his sides, and his eyes—God, his eyes were locked on Eliana like he didn’t recognize her.“Elijah... Hon, please...” I whispered, gripping his arm tightly. “That’s our daughter.”But he didn’t even look at me. He took another step forward, and Eliana flinched.“What did I hear, young woman?” he said, his voice low but thundering in the room. “You aborted—you killed your own child?”My chest tightened. I saw the tears pooling in Eliana’s eyes, her jaw trembling, but her pride still holding her back from crumbling. I c
I stood beside Eloise, both of us silent as we stared at the wall filled with framed photos. Six kids—but basically seven kids.God, time flew fast.Each photo captured a piece of our life—Eloah with his mischievous grin, Eliana's shy little smile, and the twins, Sandra and Matthew, always caught mid-laughter, Ezrah smiling naughtily, and Eliam proudly showing off his new set of teeth. Then there was Elisha, our youngest for now, her baby photo framed right at the center.I slid my arm around Eloise’s waist, pulling her closer. "If we have another one," I murmured against her hair, "we’re gonna need a bigger wall."She let out a soft laugh, and I felt it against my chest. I smiled too. This wall—it wasn't just filled with pictures. It was filled with life, with memories we built together, one kid, one moment at a time.I leaned down and kissed the side of her head, thinking…If we were given another blessing, I wouldn't hesitate.I'd fill all the walls if it meant more of her, more of
The blinding lights above me blurred through the tears in my eyes. My body shook, exhausted, every inch of me screaming in pain. I gripped the sides of the bed so hard my knuckles turned white."Push, Eloise! One more push!" the doctor said.I sucked in a breath and pushed with everything I had. My heart pounded in my ears, the world narrowing to nothing but the sound of my own strained breathing and the overwhelming need to meet my baby.Then — a cry.A loud, desperate cry that made my heart burst in my chest. Tears streamed down my face as I collapsed against the bed, gasping for air."It's a girl," the nurse said softly.A girl.Our girl.I screamed again, my body wracked with a new wave of pain. I thought it was over—but the doctor’s voice cut through the chaos."Another one! Keep pushing, Eloise!"My eyes widened in shock. Another one?I didn’t even have time to process it. Elijah and I had agreed not to do an ultrasound, wanting it to be a surprise... but we never imagined this.
"Won't you apologize for Matthew?"Those were the first words I said the moment I sat across from him. No anger. No shouting. Just a cold, tired question.Noel leaned back in his chair, chains clinking lazily, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Apologize?" he repeated, almost amused. "For what?""For everything," I said, voice flat. "For ruining him. For dragging all of us into your mess. For being the reason he's dead."Noel scoffed, shaking his head slowly like I was the one who didn’t understand. "Matthew made his own choices. Don’t put that on me.”"You robbed me of ten years with him—""Oh, come on, Eloise. Don’t act like what I did didn’t favor you. And don’t pretend you loved Matthew the way I loved him. It was Elijah you loved, not Matthew. So stop acting like you’re heartbroken just because Matthew died!”I stiffened, feeling the rage rise in my chest, but I forced myself to stay still. I wasn’t going to give Noel the satisfaction of seeing me crack."You’re right,"
The walls were white. Too white. Too clean. Too quiet.I sat on the hospital bed, my hands resting on my lap, fingers unmoving. My eyes stared ahead, but I wasn't really seeing anything. Everything felt distant. Muted. Like the world decided to move on without me.I could hear Elijah’s voice somewhere near the door, low and serious. He was speaking to a doctor, their words blurring together until I finally caught one thing clearly—“They’re both okay.”They were talking about me and the baby.I’m okay.The baby is okay.But why didn’t it feel like it?My chest felt hollow. Heavy. Like something had been scooped out of me and all that was left was the echo of his voice.Matthew…He died in my arms.I keep replaying it—his last words, his final breath, the way his eyes dimmed as if the light just flickered out of his soul. And I just kept crying, screaming his name, begging a God I wasn’t even sure I believed in anymore.I didn’t get to say sorry.I didn’t get to tell him that I truly lo
We arrived at the edge of the abandoned building, the air thick with tension and dust. The place was rotting, every window shattered, every wall covered in graffiti. But it was quiet—too quiet. The men we brought with us started to spread out, silently taking their positions, blending into the shadows. I felt the weight of every second pressing down on me. My jaw clenched. My fists itched. My heart pounded with one thing in mind—Eloise.I glanced at Matthew, who gave me a nod. Even now, even with everything he was carrying, he was calm. Focused. We didn’t exchange words. We didn’t need to. We were here for one thing. And nothing was going to stop us.We didn’t go in right away.The building loomed ahead like a sleeping beast, silent and dangerous. But I knew better. It wasn’t sleeping. It was waiting.Matthew came up beside me, crouched low behind the broken wall we were using for cover. "Two on the left," he murmured. "Three more near the back, guarding the exits."I nodded once.