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Mira's POV One month later... "Morning, Samuel," I say to the security guard as I pass him his coffee from my tray and he smiles. "Morning, Lexi," I say as I walk into the nurse's station, setting the coffee down on the table. The clinic I work at isn’t the biggest in the city, our patients are mostly regulars. I usually work on the first floor with the stay-in patients, but today, I was asked to fill in for a colleague who I’m fairly certain will be leaving us soon. The ER isn’t where I spend most of my days; as I mentioned, it’s a small clinic, and people usually prefer to go to the larger hospitals instead. "Morning, Mira. Thank you for the coffee. It seems you are the only one that cares that our coffee machine makes crap." Crap to say the least. You would think that someone would care that the people in charge of others' health were running on a bad fuel. "Dont mention it. Where is the doctor on call?" I ask as I start organizing the charts. "Honestly, I have no idea. The ni
"I already told you everything that happened. Twice. I just came in and set down the coffee when the man walked in armed, they knocked out Samuel and made us work on the injured man. I did what I had to do in order to ensure our safety, not to mention, save a life." I tell the police as they seat Lexi and me in a room, the words come out sharper than I intended, but the frustration is bubbling over. The constant questioning, the same damn questions over and over. I just want this to be over, to move past this entire nightmare. Lexi’s sitting next to me, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, but I can see her shoulders shaking slightly as she tries to hold it together."I understand," the officer finally says, lifting his gaze from the paper to meet mine. "But there are still details we need to clarify, Miss... Mira, was it? You’re telling us everything you did, but we need to know exactly what happened when they entered. What did they say? How did you respond?" I lean back in my chair,
I had the taxi drive me to a bar. Sorry Charlie but your walk will have to wait, I need liquor... strong one. The bar is dimly lit, with a few regulars nursing their drinks in quiet solitude. I make my way to the counter, the familiar scent of spilled liquor and stale beer filling the air. I don’t need to look at the bartender to know he’s seen a lot of people like me, tired, frustrated, and seeking a little peace at the bottom of a glass. “What’ll it be?” he asks, looking up with the kind of practiced indifference that comes with years of pouring drinks for people like me. “Two Whiskeys. Neat,” A husky voice was heard as its owner slipped into the chair next to me. "Mr.Vincenzo. Arent you the cherry on top of my shit day." Even his beautiful eyes weren't enough to remove the images of everything that happened this day. But the way he looked at me like he tried to pry into my soul, learn my codes... that made me uneasy. He was the kind of man who could make you feel like you were
The words hang in the air like smoke, suffocating any air of control I thought I still had left. Six years. Mira Saik. My name. The one I’ve built my life around. It’s not just a name, it’s a shield, a mask that I’ve worn to protect myself from something darker, something buried.But how the hell does he know that?"I have no idea what you are talking about." I lie, keeping my nerves calm as best as I can. He tilted his head, studying me like a puzzle he’d already solved. The man has the nerve to look amused as if he’s getting some twisted satisfaction from this."Perhaps I dont know your story, but I do know that you are not Mira Saik. And people who change their name usually do it for one reason. To hide. So who are you hiding from?" He asks, his eyes never leaving mine as if he didn't have the need to blink.I force a laugh, trying to brush him off. “You’re wasting your time, Vincenzo. I have nothing to say to you because I'm not hiding anything?” I know this game. I’ve played it t
Vincenzo lowers his gun slowly, the tension in his shoulders slowly ebbing away. But he doesn’t look at me yet. He’s still scanning the street, making sure the threat is gone, ensuring there’s no one else lurking in the shadows. Tamara was right, what happened this morning was connected to Vincenzo. Perhaps that man wasn't one of his, and it wasn't him who sent him to me, but he was responsible. I have no idea who the other man is and what war are they in... all I do know is that I want no part in it. He finally turns and takes a step toward me, his gaze lingering on my face like he's searching for something. Maybe fear. I don't know. But I don’t back away, even if every instinct inside me screams to flee, to run as far from this man as possible. Again, not because I'm scared, but simply because he brings complications I do not want. "You are quite the fighter." He says as he looks down at my hand. I didn't realize it at first but my keys also scratched my skin, leaving an open wound
"Because you saved my life." I blink, trying to process what he just said. It’s not the answer I was expecting. I lean forward slightly, my eyes narrowing as I study him, searching for any hint of a joke or a lie. "You’re serious?" I ask, my voice tinged with disbelief. "It's clear to me that you don't remember me... but I recognized you at the party, your eyes have been embedded in my head for years." I lean back, trying to see if putting some space between us would somehow inlight me on what he was talking about. "Vincenzo, what are you talking about?" I ask to which he proceeds to drag his hand through his hair until he reaches the hairband and lets down his hair. He separates his hair and turns his head towards me. “This scar,” he says, touching the side of his head, “is from when my head got bashed, blood poured down my face... I could bearly see where I was running in the dark alley. My leg has scars from the bullet, I was bleeding out, running from my enemy, waiting for
Love's POV These seem to be the best days of my life. I love and I'm being loved like never before. Christian adores me, showers me with his attention, and makes me feel like I'm the center of the world. All would be well... if only I could shed myself of my lies. Grace doesn't even mention it, she pretends like it doesn't exist and I worry that her promise of helping me out might be out of her hands. After all, it is a big thing to ask. Sebastian is happy, perhaps more than I have ever seen him to be. He learned how to hope again, the doctor gave him a good chance of recovery with the surgery the only thing that stands in the way is me. He wants me to have the surgery I do not need and I dont know what is going to happen. But right now, as I sit on my couch and call my mother on a video call for her birthday I have to push all those thoughts aside. "Happy birthday, mom!" I say as soon as she answers the call. She sits in front of a window and I can see it already dark there. Aft
Mira’s words hang heavy in the air. She is not wrong? The weight of her statement lands on me like a ton of bricks.“What do you mean by that?” My voice screeched as I looked at her. I'm pretty sure all color was now drained from my face."It is so beyond complicated I wouldn't know where to start." She says as she walks around the kitchen island and pours herself a glass of water."At the beginning, Mira. That is where you start." After what feels like an eternity, she exhales slowly, setting the glass down with a soft clink. "Alright," she says, her voice strained, as if speaking the words will somehow make it all real."The man who came to the clinic today did indeed come there because of Vincenzo... but he wasn't working for him, pretty sure I just saved his enemy." Enemy. That seemed like a word that belonged in a dialog for the military, or the big screen, or even a book, but being said out loud in real-life conversation was beyond crazy."I dont know the details, nor do I care
Bridget smiled wider now, clearly enjoying the reveal. “Oh good, he still talks about me. How sweet.”Grace took a sharp step forward. “You don’t belong here, Bridget. You never did.”Bridget’s gaze didn’t flinch. “Funny. That’s not what your husband used to say.”Christian’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “That’s enough.”"Grace is right," I say. "You have no business here." Showing her face here after all this time, after all the harm she did to Sebastian really showed she had no shame."You dont get a say in this." She directs herself at me. "Who are you to tell me what to do." Grace stepped closer again, now standing fully at my side. “She's is a Callahan, a part of our family something you will never be. So unless you want security to escort you out, I suggest you remember your place, Bridget.”“I am in my place,” Bridget said, her voice suddenly cooler, more calculating. “You all just forgot that this empire wasn’t built by Callahans alone. My father was one of the
A white sheet of paper and an artist's pen were somehow all I needed to feel free in the world. A dream I once had of making something beautiful that others would want, admire, and desire, was finally happening. Even if Christian may think this is a punishment for me, it was the opposite. I was designing jewelry again, I was telling a story, and this time, the story was mine. Each line I drew on the paper shimmered in my mind like gold catching sunlight. I sketched the delicate curve of a pendant, the kind that rests right over the heart, something soft, but powerful. The design was bold and unapologetic. Perhaps because I was starting to feel like there wasn't much I needed to apologize for. Maybe it is the Mira part in me, the one that tells me that my lie wasn't all that bad, that my lie in fact did a lot of good to a person who was at one point lost.I looked back down at the pendant. It had wings now, faint outlines spreading from the heart of the design. I didn’t remember adding
"Are you nervous?" Bash asked me as he sat down next to me. "I'm excited," I say. It was the truth, I couldn't be more excited to take these damn bandages off my eyes and finally be free. Well, as free as Christian allows it. "How are you feeling, the surgery is tomorrow?" I ask.I could feel him shrug beside me, but the sound of his fingers tapping restlessly on his knee told me more than his words ever could."I'm good," he said finally, eyes fixed straight ahead. "I mean, it's weird, right? We've talked about this for so long, and now it's actually happening.""Yeah," I murmured, tilting my head toward him, even though I couldn’t see him yet. "It feels like we’ve been dreaming about this forever. And now it's real.""This condition made me lose so much of my future, my position, the woman who I at the time thought was the love of my life... it took a big piece of my soul, yet now I can't stop thinking about all the things I got. It gave me a new perspective of life and myself... it
He didn’t respond. Then, footsteps. Slow, deliberate. He moved closer, and my breath hitched in my throat even though I tried not to let it show. I turned my face slightly toward where I thought he was standing, listening for the soft rustle of his suit, the shift in the air. I didn't need my eyes to feel the gravity of him near me. "You wore a mask, every single day. Lied, to our faces... and you say it was for our own good. You are no better than the bastard I had for a father." His voice was closer now, a whisper laced with venom. "But I am not him." "Perhaps you are even worse. He at least didn't pretend to love us, at least not in the end." Christian says, anger blooming inside of him. "I love you, Christian. More than I ever thought was possible." I say trying to reach him but he pushes back at me, my back against the wall. "Shut up, you lie so well I might believe you for a second." “If I wanted to keep lying, I wouldn’t have told you the truth, I wouldn't still be here
Four weeks later...The last night in the dark...I am on the edge.I can't take this darkness anymore. I keep telling myself it's soon going to be over, that at least I will be able to act freely, even walk into the world alone free of pretenses. I want my parents to see that the lie is over, and I want Bash to get over everything soon, even if that means that whatever this is I have with Christian comes to an end.We have been living in this penthouse for three weeks now, and every second for me has been hell. His indifference at times is worse than his hate, at least hating me meant he still had me somewhere in his soul, in silence alongside this darkness that was eating at me.If it weren't for Mira I would be completely alone, she is the only good thing here. She told me to take off the bandages while Christian was at work but I just couldn't. He was far too unpredictable, popping in and out at different times as if trying to surprise me by doing something wrong and I didn't feel
Hearing the voices of people I love around me made me feel peace, so much so that I never wanted them to leave. In front of them, Christian was the man, the husband I always thought he would be. He was loving, kind, and caring. I never wanted it to end.But all that is good has its end, so did this.My friends were about to leave, at least Grace and Bash would be around. At least not until Christian makes us move again.Tamara and Bash were aside, talking. It is nice to hear that the friendship between them is blooming, hopefully into something bigger and better. Grace pulled Christian away to the office for a moment leaving me alone with Mira."Love, call me crazy but something here doesn't feel right. Are you sure you are as happy as you say you are?" I knew she would sense something, and despite promising Christian I would say anything I needed to let go with someone, and who better than Mira? I need someone on my side, someone to stand in my corner... make me feel less alone."Mira
"People are still talking about the wedding. It's the talk of every event since." Grace says as we sit at the table. Christian is right next to me, holding my hand, his thumb tracing the side of my knuckle. It feels nice. Too nice. "And no one thinks you are pregnant anymore, so now they believe it's true love." Bash comments. "Good, because it is. As true as it gets," Christian says as he kisses my cheek. I smile. It is so hard to be in this darkness. The voices around me keep surprising me. Every movement strikes a nerve within me, and I have to pretend to be relaxed. "Why didn't you tell us about doing the surgery?" Bash asks. "We wanted you to see firsthand that the surgery you will go under would work because she will be taking off the bandages just before you go under. That will give you all the training you need to go there without a doubt in your mind that this will work." Christian’s words are calm like he’s presenting a plan instead of revealing something deeply personal.
Love's POVI think I understand Bash now better than ever. Being trapped in the dark was horrible. No wonder he felt the way he did. Even when I knew well that this would last only four weeks, walking around with my eyes bandaged up was hard. even harder than I imagined it would be.But one thing was good... as long as I couldn't see I wouldn't have to look at the hatred that grew inside Christian's eyes. This situation goes from bad to worse. The silence between us felt like it was splitting me in two. I could feel Christian beside me, his presence so tense, so tightly wound. I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to. I could feel the sharp edge of his anger cutting through the air between us. The hatred I’d seen in his eyes before, that dark, simmering look, now felt like a constant companion. He didn’t even have to say anything. I could feel it in the way he handled me, the way he spoke, the way he didn’t speak.But I liked the fact we were back home. Perhaps that way I won't fe
"How long is this going to take? We have a plane to catch." That's not true. It's not like my private plane would go somewhere without me, but I wanted out of this doctor's office as soon as possible."I thought you were returning in a month. If it's supposed we just did the surgery she wouldn't be recovered by now. The world won't believe it." The good doctor says as Love glances up at me."Plans change. Tell her what to do to fake it, she's good at that." I was on edge. Playing nice was so hard and I needed all the willpower I had to do this charade infront of my family, not him."We would need to bandage her eyes... keep her like that for about three to four weeks. And even after that she would need to use sunglasses outside for a period of time... pretend to adjust." Somehow that sounded perfect in my head. She would, even for a short four weeks be forced to walk around blind. She would get to taste her lie on her own skin. "She can do it," I say as I glance at her. "In fact, wrap