LOGINRoman sat in his car, parked outside his own house.The engine was off. The night was quiet. But inside the car, the only sound was the relentless beep of a call that wouldn't go through.He pulled the phone from his ear and stared at the screen."What the hell Tessa?” He murmured.He had called her seven times today. Fourteen times this week. Dozens of times over the past month.Yet, no response.The line just kept beeping. No ring. No voicemail. Just... nothing.She blocked me.The thought sat in his chest like a stone.He understood things had been difficult between them. He understood she was hurt, angry, confused. But to block him completely? To cut him off without a word?That was more frustrating than he’d like to admit.He groaned and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.His eyes fell on the items beside it — flowers, chocolates, a small velvet box he hadn't touched. Romantic things. Hopeful things. Things he had planned to give her tonight.Now he just looked stupid.He
The sound of Eleanor's heels against the marble floor echoed through the corridor.She had faced many difficult situations before. Boardroom battles. Social scandals. The return of a dead husband. But this — watching her son be led away in shackles while the world watched — this had to be the most humiliating.She put on her dark glasses and continued down the corridor."Eleanor."The voice stopped her cold.She turned.Salima and Roman walked toward her, side by side. Roman's face was unreadable. Salima's was not.Eleanor exhaled sharply. "Salima. Roman." She adjusted her sunglasses. "I believe you are here to gloat."Salima stepped closer, her shoulders high, her chin lifted. The years between them seemed to collapse into a single moment."Do you remember," Salima said quietly, "months ago... in this very courthouse... you stood there after you tried to lock up my son. And you told me that it was just the consequences of his bad decisions?"Eleanor's jaw tightened. She said nothing.
The courtroom was already packed by the time the deputies brought Grayson in.The chains around his wrists rattled softly with each step.For the first time in his life, Grayson Thorne looked small.The expensive suits were gone. The arrogance was harder to maintain in a prison uniform. Bruises still lingered along his jaw from the night of his arrest, and dark circles sat beneath his eyes.A murmur swept through the gallery as he entered.Roman watched silently from the front row.Grayson’s eyes immediately found him.The hatred there was instant.Raw and unfiltered.A deputy guided him toward the defence table.On the opposite side of the courtroom sat Eleanor and Liam.Eleanor looked immaculate as always. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect posture.But her hands were clenched tightly together in her lap.Liam sat beside her, his expression unreadable.A few seats away sat Bernard.Salima occupied the space between Bernard and Victor.The arrangement hadn’t been planned, but Roma
Roman stood before the mirror, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. His suit was jet black, crisp and expensive. His watch clicked into place — a gift from his father, years ago, before everything fell apart.He barely recognised himself.Not because he looked different. But because he felt lighter than he had in months.It had been four weeks.Four weeks since the fire.Four weeks since Grayson had been dragged away in handcuffs while screaming threats into the night.And now the day had finally arrived.The trial.Grayson would finally face consequences. And Roman could breathe.The door opened behind him."Hi, Mom," Roman said without turning. "Good morning.”Salima stepped into the room, her heels soft against the carpet. She was dressed in a deep navy dress, understated but elegant. Her hair was pinned back. Her face was calm."Good morning," she said. She walked up to him and reached for his tie. "Let me."Roman laughed. “You know I can do that myself.”“Clearly not very well.” Sal
Tessa sat propped against the pillows, her wrists still bandaged, her arms spotted with healing burns. The room smelled like antiseptic and flowers — too many flowers, brought by people who didn't know what else to do.Daniel sat on her left. Her father, Peter, stood by the window. Gina was curled in a chair in the corner, pretending to scroll through her phone but really just watching."How are you feeling?" Daniel asked."I'm fine," Tessa said. "I've said that three times already.""You keep saying it. Doesn't make it true." Daniel said.“Maybe.” She tried to sit up. “But I’m going to be fine.”“You should just have stayed home,” Daniel said. “Told you not to go see Roman. But you wouldn’t listen. Now see where you end up.”Tessa sighed. "Daniel, please. I don't have the energy to fight with you.""Good. Because I'm not going to fight either." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I'm here to tell you what we've decided."Tessa's eyes narrowed. "We?""Dad and me." Daniel glanced
"When you said fighting fire with fire, I didn't think you meant literally," Alec said as Roman uncapped the gasoline container in front of him.Behind him, Bernard stood still, arms crossed, saying nothing.Alec leaned against a wall, phone in hand, watching but not interfering.Roman didn't look back. He knew what he was doing. He didn't care.Grayson's cars were lined up in a row in the compound — the black Mercedes, the silver Porsche, the matte grey Lamborghini he never drove but loved to show off. Roman had seen them all before. Had listened to Grayson brag about the engines, the custom interiors, the price tags.None of it mattered now.Roman unscrewed the cap and started pouring.The liquid splashed across the hood of the Mercedes, dripped down the windshield, and pooled on the ground. He moved to the Porsche. Then the Lamborghini.The smell was thick, acrid, and familiar.The same smell Grayson had left after he tried to kill Tessa.Roman's jaw tightened.He finished the cont
Roman’s eyes squinted at his mother’s question.“Klara? What kind of question is that Mom?”“Just answer it.” Salima insisted.“I can’t answer what I don’t know. Why are you bringing up Klara, what does she have to do with any of this?” Roman snapped.“I’m not saying she has anything to do with thi
Klara stood frozen outside the master suite door, one palm pressed flat against the wall, as if it were the only thing keeping her upright.She hadn’t meant to watch or stay that long. She’s been listening for too long—long enough to hear Tessa come twice, long enough to know Roman wasn’t angry, w
Roman and Tessa walked toward the front door of his mansion. The eyes staring at them were filled with love and anticipation.Salima stood at the entrance, draped in crimson silk, bangles chiming as she smiled proudly.Beside her, a silver tray gleamed with lit diyas, rice, and a bowl of red dye.A
The door shut with a soft click that sounded louder than a gunshot.Klara stood in the centre of the rug, hands clasped, playing innocent.Roman stayed behind the desk, his fingers resting on the small gold hairpin Salima slipped him earlier.“Sit,” he said.Klara lowered herself into the chair.Ro







