ログイン“Salima. Salima.” Bernard called after her but she didn’t stop. “Salima would you listen to me?” Bernard yelled.“Five years,” Salima said, turning around. “Five fucking years Bernard and you just show up at my door like it’s supposed to mean nothing.”“I know what it means Salima, and I'm sorry it had to be this way. I'm sorry.”“I can’t believe this.” Salima sniffed. “I just don't know what to make up of all this.”Bernard moved closer to her now. “Don’t, don’t take another step please.” She cried. “Salima, I just want to see you.” “No.”“I want you to know I never wanted to leave,” Bernard said softly. “I promise you, Salima. I thought of you every single day.”“Bernard, stop it,” Salima said. Her voice trembled harder now.Bernard went quiet immediately.For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The tension between them felt fragile, dangerous almost, like one wrong word would shatter whatever control Salima still had left.She looked away first, wrapping her arms around herse
No one moved.Salima stayed where she was. Victor's hand rested on the back of the nearest couch. Roman remained standing, arms crossed, feet planted like he was bracing for a storm."I'll stand," Roman said.Bernard nodded slowly. He lowered himself into the chair instead — not out of weakness, but because his legs had started to feel less reliable than he wanted to admit."Five years ago," he began, "I was preparing to leave Eleanor."Salima's breath caught."I had the papers drawn up. I had a plan. I was going to divorce her and come back home to you. Both of you.” He looked at Roman. “No more hiding. No more secrets."He paused, his eyes finding Salima's."I was going to choose you. Finally. Out loud. In front of everyone."The room was silent."But Eleanor found out." Victor's jaw tightened. "Of course she did."Bernard nodded grimly. "She confronted me. Not with tears — with threats. She told me that if I left her, if I humiliated her in front of Atlanta's elite, she would dest
The world stopped and for a moment, Salima didn’t breathe. Her hand remained on the handle, fingers tightening around the metal as if it were the only thing holding her upright.Standing on the other side of the door was Bernard Thorne.Bernard!The man she had mourned. The man she had buried. The man she had lost five years ago. Now standing on her porch like his presence meant nothing.His eyes rested on her face with a strange softness, like five years had not passed at all.“Hello, Salima.”His voice was exactly the same.She couldn’t speak. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She took one slow step back, staring at Bernard like she was looking at something impossible.Roman frowned from the living room. “Mom, is everything okay?”No response. Something in her silence made him straighten.Bernard’s face softened at the sound of Roman’s voice. “Is that him?” He asked. “Is that our son?”Salima still didn't speak. Her eyes were glistening with tears now.Victor moved toward the
The living room was dim. Roman sat alone on the leather couch, a bottle of wine in one hand, a half-full glass on the table in front of him.He wasn't drinking fast. Just slow, measured sips—like he was trying to feel something or not feel something. Even he wasn't sure anymore.The bottle had been full an hour ago.Now it was nearly empty.His phone buzzed against the table.He glanced at it. Tessa.His jaw tightened though his expression did not change.He reached over, declined the call, and set the phone face down before taking another drink.Across the room, Davin and Alec watched in silence."I know he said he's good," Alec murmured, low enough that Roman couldn't hear. "But honestly? I don't think it's true."Davin shook his head slowly. "Yeah. I can see that."He paused, watching Roman pour another glass."This divorce is obviously hard on him," Davin continued. "I've just... I've never seen him like this before."Alec nodded. "True. He really loved Tessa.""He did," Davin agr
The room was too quiet.Tessa sat on the edge of the bed, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap. She wasn't crying anymore. She wasn't doing much of anything really.Her eyes were fixed on the window.Outside, Atlanta blurred past—cars she couldn't hear, people she couldn't see, a city that had stopped making sense hours ago. She watched it all like it belonged to someone else's life.His life.Roman's city. Roman's world. Roman's rules.The memory played behind her eyes without permission. His hand closing around her arm. The way he lifted her off her feet like she weighed nothing. The slam of her body back into the chair. The pen shoved into her trembling fingers.‘Sign it.’ Romam’s voice echoed in her ears. Her throat tightened.‘Sign the fucking papers, Tessa.’A single tear slipped down her cheek. Then another.She wiped them away—slow and mechanical. No sound. No sob. Just the motion.Then she went back to staring.The window didn't change. The city didn't stop.Neithe
Grayson lounged back against the arm of the sofa, his phone balanced in one hand as he scrolled absentmindedly. He wasn’t really paying attention at first, just flicking through one video after another—until something caught his eye.A video with a familiar name written boldly on the screen. He stilled.The video replayed automatically, the voice of a young woman spilling through the speakers—bright, animated, and far too excited for the kind of story she was telling.“—Is there trouble in paradise? Because sources are saying that what went down at Blackwood Hotels yesterday wasn’t just business as usual…”Grayson’s posture shifted, his brows drawing together as he sat up properly now, his attention fully locked in.“…Roman Blackwood and Tessa Blackwood have officially called it quits after a dramatic confrontation. Reports claim that Tessa was allegedly forced into signing divorce papers—”A video of Tessa crying and yelling popped up.The girl’s tone dipped into something even more
Roman’s smile froze mid-breath as the scream tore through the ballroom.For half a second, no one moved. The applause died unevenly, confusion rippling across faces.Roman’s eyes drifted instinctively toward the staircase.He saw the blood first.A dark, spreading stain against the gold marble floo
Roman stepped out of the shower, his hair plastered across his face. His mother had left him a while ago. He had tried to get some sleep…anything to take his mind off the chaos his life had turned into. He spotted his shirt on the bed, the white T-shirt Tessa had picked out for him. The one that w
The private terminal in Chicago was polished steel and glass, quiet in the way money demanded. No crowds. No noise. Just the low hum of engines and the sharp winter air rolling across the tarmac.Roman Blackwood stood at the base of the stairs, coat buttoned neatly, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed
Davin cleared his throat.The sound cut through the room like a blade.He looked down at the paper again, as if confirming what he already knew, then lifted his eyes—steady, professional, unreadable.“The results confirm,” he said evenly, “that Roman…. is Bernard Thorne’s biological son.”For a hea







