LOGINTessa pushed open the glass doors of the hotel, her hands trembling as she walked down the marble stairs. When she looked up, Roman was staring at her like he’d just made a deal he regretted.
She had signed the contract. She had gotten more compensation than she had ever imagined. And when the time came, he would take the baby. This was supposed to be good, she told herself. “Tessa,” Roman called out. “I’ll be leaving now.” One of his bodyguards opened the car door for him. He slid in, adjusting his dark glasses. Then his eyes narrowed, a flicker of realization crossing his face. “What happened to your lips?” he asked darkly. “What do you mean?” Tessa tried to sound confused. “Your lips are bruised,” he said, reaching up to tilt her face so he could inspect her. “What happened?” Her fingers brushed over her lips, and the sting burned into her flesh where Grayson had hit her. “It’s nothing,” she said quickly. “I fell, that’s all.” He looked at her like he knew she was lying but didn’t want to press. “You must be more careful now that you’re carrying my child, Miss Quinn.” “Yes, Mr. Blackwood,” she said softly. He nodded once, tapped her shoulder, and then his car drove off without another word. Tessa turned to leave and froze. Across the street, a figure stood beside a black sedan, the sunlight catching on his face just enough for her stomach to drop. Grayson. She didn’t know how long he had been there or what he had seen, but the way he was standing—rigid, his jaw set—made her skin crawl. His arms hung at his sides, his fists clenched like he was holding himself back from breaking something. Or someone. He started walking toward her, each step slow but deliberate, like someone chasing after its prey. “Grayson?” Her voice came out thin and trembling. “What are you doing here?” “Really? What am I doing here?” He folded his arms across his chest. “The real question is what’s a cheap thing like you doing coming out of a hotel you can’t afford?” She scoffed, already tired. “You know what, Grayson? That’s enough. Why are you following me?” “Following you?” His laugh was low and sharp. “Please. I’m here to see the manager of this damn hotel, who just happens to be my—” “Just stop!” she cut him off before he could finish. “You and I are over. You made that clear when you made me choke on my own blood. Now leave me the hell alone.” His eyes narrowed. “Who was that?” “What?” “The man touching your face like you meant something to him.” He stepped closer, his gaze hardening. “Who was he?” “That’s none of your business.” She turned to walk away, but his hand shot out, clamping around her arm. “Stop!” she screamed. “Let me go.” “Answer me. Who was he?” “What the hell is wrong with you?” she yanked, trying to break free, but his grip only dug in harder. “Let me go now.” His jaw flexed, his eyes dark with something ugly. “That’s the father, huh? So that’s the man you’ve been spreading your legs for? Is this the hotel where you screamed his name in bed?” She tried to pull away, but his fingers were like iron around her arm. His voice dropped to a low, venomous threat. “I told you, if I ever saw you again, I’d make your life hell.” Before she could react, he dragged her toward his car. Her feet scraped against the pavement, her protests useless against his strength. He shoved her inside like she weighed nothing. “Grayson, stop!” she clawed at the door handle, but it was already locked. “Open the damn door.” His mind was set, his eyes hard as stone. “You think I’m just gonna let you get away with everything? Not when you look like that.” “Like what?” she snapped, her voice shaking despite her best efforts. “Pregnant. Stupid. And lying through your damn teeth.” He slammed his door shut and started the engine. Tessa’s stomach twisted. “Where are you taking me?” “To teach you a lesson,” he bit out. “One you’ll never forget.” “What kind of sick idea do you have now?” she blurted. He didn’t answer, he just kept his eyes on the road, one hand loose on the wheel, the other tapping impatiently against his thigh. The hospital came into view, and her pulse spiked. “Why are we here?” He didn’t even look at her as he pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. “Get out. Let’s go pay daddy a visit.” She hesitated for half a second before he yanked her out, his grip bruising her arm as he dragged her inside. Every step toward her father’s room felt like walking into a nightmare. The moment they reached the bed, Grayson ripped the covers off her father. “This is the man who raised you? Pathetic.” Her father’s eyes fluttered open, confusion written all over his face. “Tessa, what’s going on?” “I’ll tell you what’s going on. Your daughter is a filthy bitch, and she’s gonna pay for it.” Then Grayson’s fist came down, connecting with her father’s jaw. “Grayson, stop!” Tessa screamed, shoving at him. He turned, slammed her into the wall. Pain shot through her shoulder. “You think you can humiliate me?” he snarled, kicking over the tray table, sending food and metal clattering to the floor. Her father groaned, clutching his face. Tessa lunged toward him, but Grayson shoved her back again before landing another punch. Blood streamed from her father’s nose. “Please, stop! You’re upset with me—leave my dad out of this!” she begged. “Shut up!” he barked. “Shut the fuck up, Tessa!” She knelt beside her father, helping him sit up, but Grayson knocked him down again. Grayson wasn’t going to stop and Tessa didn’t know what to do. Her hands shook as she reached for her phone, Roman’s number flashing in her mind. She pressed call, her heart racing, as Grayson took another step toward her father. Roman’s car rolled to a stop in front of the Blackwood mansion. He barely stepped through the doors before his mother’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “So you remember you have a home? We rarely see you around anymore, Roman.” Salima Blackwood—his mother—stood at the entrance like she had been waiting for this moment. He dropped his keys on the marble counter, unbothered. “Last I checked, I’m running a billion-dollar hotel.” She crossed her arms, her silk robe clinging to her like she had stepped straight out of a magazine cover. The years hadn’t dulled her beauty or her ability to make him feel ten years old again. “You’ve been dodging my calls. Again,” she snapped. “That’s because I’m busy, Mom. And I always know what you want to say.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Busy burying yourself in work or women?” she raised a brow. He smirked. “Why not both?” Her sharp inhale told him he had hit a nerve. She hated when he played the unbothered devil. “Then, if that’s the case, one of those women should’ve given me what I want by now.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He walked over to the minibar and poured himself a glass of bourbon. “Mother, you make it hard to give you an heir when we both know that child would be nothing more than a ticket to an empire I don’t want.” She squinted at him. “One day, Roman, that mouth of yours will cost you something you can’t buy back.” He leaned on the counter, meeting her eyes. “And one day, Mother, you’ll accept that I’m not the boy you raised. I’m the man keeping our family untouchable.” They stared each other down. Same eyes. Same stubbornness. And then—“You know, I heard that Grayson’s girlfriend got pregnant.” “Oh, did she now?” he chuckled. “Then that’s good news for him. It means you can finally leave me alone.” “The child isn’t his,” she blurted. He coughed, something between a laugh and shock. “Oh wow. That must suck. Whose is it?” “No one knows yet. Not even Grayson.” She shook her head. “Shit,” he muttered. “Roman…” she walked over to the bar. “You need to take this seriously. Not just for yourself but for me. I need this for my claim on that family. You know how they treat us. How they treat me like I don’t belong.” His jaw tightened. He knew exactly how she felt. His mother was the mistress of his father—Bernard Thorne—and the only woman who had ever managed to keep the man on a leash. She stood across from him now, her arms folded, her eyes glassy. “I want a grandchild before I get any older,” she said, breaking the silence with that unapologetic tone. “Can’t you see the wrinkles on my forehead?” His mouth twitched into a smirk. “Don’t worry, Mom. You’re not getting old. You don’t look a day over sixteen.” She arched a brow. “Be serious, Roman.” “I am serious.” He leaned back, swirling the liquor in his glass. “And you don’t need to worry. You’ll get your grandchild soon.” Her eyes sharpened. “Really?” “Yeah.” “Well then,” she said, leaning forward slightly, “when do I get to meet the girl?” His smirk deepened. “Soon. Very soon.” Before she could press further, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, and the smirk faded into something colder. Tessa? “Not even twenty-four hours,” he muttered. “And she’s already bothering me.” Without a second thought, he declined the call and slid the phone face down. “Now, Mom… let’s talk baby names.” Tessa’s heart dropped. Did Roman hang up on her, or was it a mistake? She called again, this time silently praying. Grayson’s head snapped toward her. “What are you doing?” he said, taking slow steps forward. “Stay away from me!” she yelled. “And leave my dad alone.” Grayson froze, his eyes narrowing as they caught the glow of her phone screen. In two strides, he was in front of her, ripping the phone from her grasp and hurling it across the room. “If that’s your lover,” he growled, his voice low and deadly, “tell him he’s next.” Her breath hitched. “You’re insane.” A slow, dangerous smile tugged at his lips. His hands slowly wrapped around her neck. He leaned closer, his breath hot on her cheeks. “And you, Tessa… you’re finished.”Roman 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
The police car rolled to a stop behind the station.Roman barely noticed the building itself. The ride had been silent except for the radio chatter and the faint rattle of the cuffs around his wrists.The back door opened.“Please step out.” The officer said.Roman stepped out without protest. The
Roman stormed down the stairs, gun gripped tight in his bleeding hand. Tessa chased after him, tears streaming, voice breaking.“Roman! Roman please stop!”But he didn’t listen. His shoes slammed against the wood, echoing through the house.“Grayson!” he roared.The name exploded out of him, loud e
The bedroom was quiet now, only the slow rhythm of their breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioner. Roman lay on his back, one arm curled around Tessa, her head resting on his chest. Her fingers traced lazy patterns over his skin, following the rise and fall of each breath.Their clothes
Davin stood rigid in the doorway, fists clenched at his sides. Roman leaned back in his chair, Tessa’s old phone still resting on the table like a silent accusation.“What are you doing here, Davin?” Roman asked, voice calm, almost bored.Davin’s jaw ticked. “What do you mean what am I doing here?







