MasukBrandon slowly let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “When I woke up…” he continued quietly, “…I had no idea where I was.” “I couldn’t remember my own name.” “I couldn’t remember any of you.” “I couldn’t even remember why my body was covered in bruises.” He smiled bitterly. “I was just… a man with no past.” Hannah lowered her head, tears rolling silently down her cheeks. Brandon gently wiped them away before continuing. “A kind elderly couple found me lying near the river after the crash. They took me to a small clinic nearby.” “The doctor told them I had suffered a serious head injury.” “They asked me who I was.” “I couldn’t answer.” “They asked if I had any family.” “I couldn’t answer that either.” “I had forgotten everything.” Jessica wiped her own tears. “So… how did you finally come home?” Brandon smiled softly. “I later found out that after the crash, Alfred managed to escape with a few of his men.” “He was still trying t
No one around the table spoke. Not even a sound. The only thing anyone could hear was the ticking of the clock hanging on the dining room wall. Brandon looked down at his hands before continuing. “Alfred wasn’t like his father.” “He wasn’t interested in making deals.” “He wasn’t interested in becoming rich.” “He already had more money than he could spend.” “He wanted one thing.” “Revenge.” Lucas clenched his jaw. “He blamed me for Bernardo’s death.” “He blamed Teresa.” “He blamed every single one of us.” “He believed if the Colbys had never fought back… his father would still be alive.” Brandon sighed. “He kept me locked inside that warehouse for days.” “I honestly lost count.” “There were no windows.” “No sunlight.” “I couldn’t even tell if it was day or night.” “They only opened the door when they brought me food…” “…or when Alfred came.” Hannah’s eyes slowly filled with tears again. “What did he do to you?” she asked softly. Brand
“It’s a long story.” Hannah gently squeezes his hand. “I want to hear it.” Brandon brushes his thumb across her cheek. “You will.” He glances toward the house again. “But not now.” She looks at him in confusion. He smiles. “Let’s wait until tonight.” “Everyone deserves to know what happened.” ⸻ That evening… The Colby mansion, which had been filled with laughter only hours earlier, had grown quiet. After spending the entire afternoon playing in the garden with Brandon, the octuplets had completely exhausted themselves. They had refused to leave his side, clinging to him as though they were afraid he would disappear again the moment they looked away. By the time dinner ended, every one of them had fallen asleep. Alex and the maids carefully carried the sleeping children upstairs one after another, tucking them into bed. Only after the last bedroom door closed did silence settle over the mansion once again. Downstairs, the dining room remained brigh
Brandon stared at their joined hands. His breathing became shallow. The warmth of Hannah’s hand against his felt so familiar that it terrified him. He squeezed her hand unconsciously. And then— Everything exploded inside his mind. Not scattered flashes. Not broken pieces. Everything. … The first day he met Hannah. The way he had looked into her eyes and asked her to marry him almost immediately. Her shocked expression. “Are you crazy? We just met.” His own stubborn smile. “I know.” “But marry me.” … The contract marriage. The day she finally agreed. The way his hands had secretly trembled as she signed the papers while he pretended to remain calm. … The first night they moved into the mansion. She had insisted on sleeping in another room. “No.” He had folded his arms. “We’re pretending to be husband and wife.” “If people find out we’re sleeping separately, the whole plan falls apart.” She had glared at him. “You planned this.
Brandon’s body trembled. His arms tightened instinctively around the children. He didn’t even realize he was holding them so tightly until one of the boys laughed. “Daddy… you’re squeezing us.” The words snapped him back for only a second. “I’m sorry…” he whispered automatically. Then another memory hit him. Not a flash. Not a blur. A complete moment. He was sitting on the floor of the playroom. Eight tiny toddlers were climbing all over him. One sat on his shoulders. Another was tugging at his tie. One little girl kept insisting she was a princess while another demanded he become the dragon. He remembered pretending to roar. He remembered Hannah standing at the doorway, laughing so hard she almost dropped the tray of snacks she was carrying. “You’ve created eight little troublemakers.” “They’re your children,” Hannah had teased. “You spoiled them.” “I did not.” “You absolutely did.” “I prefer the term… well-trained.” She had rolled her
For a long moment, no one spoke. The silence was so heavy that even the children stopped breathing. Isabella’s face slowly drained of color. “No…” she whispered, forcing a laugh that sounded hollow. “That’s impossible. Brandon, you’re only saying that because they’ve been filling your head with stories.” She grabbed his hand again. “Look at me.” “You love me.” “You’ve always loved me.” Brandon looked down at the hand holding his. He frowned. He didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he studied her face carefully. He wanted to feel something. Anything. Comfort. Warmth. Familiarity. But… Nothing. It felt… Empty. Like he was looking at someone he was supposed to know but didn’t. Slowly, he withdrew his hand from hers. The movement wasn’t violent. It was gentle. Almost absentminded. But to Isabella… It felt like the ground had disappeared beneath her feet. She stared at her now empty hand in disbelief. “Brandon…” He didn’t answ
Hannah stood in the dimly lit warehouse, her fingers clenched into fists at her sides. The stale scent of dust and oil filled the air, mingling with the cold fear settling deep in her stomach. The warehouse was one of many they had searched in the last twenty-four hours, but this one felt differe
Dante’s grip on his phone tightened, his knuckles turning white as his eyes darted across the message that had just popped up on his screen. His pulse quickened, a deep sense of unease creeping into his chest. He had worked under Bernardo Provenzano for years, long enough to know when something wa
Brandon sat stiffly in the back of the van, his hands gripping the strap of his bag so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The enclosed space reeked of sweat and gunmetal, and the silence between him and the armed men around him was suffocating. Every time he glanced at them, they remained ee
Chapter 18Just then she felt a hand touch her from behind. She turned swiftly and to her surprise, she saw a familiar face staring at her with a smile on his face. She frowned immediately as she saw him. “Rhoda!” The figure called out surprised to see her standing outside a hotel with luggage beside







