(Mia)The townhouse is spotless. Every vase, every gold fixture, every inch of marble gleams under the crystal chandelier’s glow. I’ve made sure of it, not for me, but for them. My family is coming, and I know the judgment in their eyes will be as sharp as their words. They will think I don’t belong here. Such luxury and display of wealth is unbecoming. I should be more humble. Show more gratitude and grace.I don’t care. I do belong here. All I want is for mother to love and respect me as a woman. Not to always see me as her baby girl who needs constant mothering.I straighten the throw pillows for the third time, my nerves simmering beneath my skin. When the doorbell rings, I force my shoulders back and my face into a practiced smile. “Come in,” I say as I open the door. Mama steps in first, her dark eyes scanning the room like she’s searching for something to scold me about. Behind her, Ana and Eva follow, their expressions less obvious but no less guarded. Gabriel brings up
(Mia)“You know what, Gabriel?” I say, my voice sharp. “Maybe you’re not as noble as you want everyone to believe. You think I don’t see what you’re doing? You’re not trying to protect this family. You’re trying to control it.”He narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about?”“Don’t play dumb,” I snap. “You just want Brennan Industries for yourself. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? Turning Ana and Eva against me so they’ll sell to you.”“That’s ridiculous,” Gabriel retorts, his tone cold. “I’m protecting the company from you. You’ve already proven you can’t be trusted. Someone has to safeguard what Papá built.”“What Papa started,” I say, crossing my arms. “That company was built by Judy Brennan. Our father was an awful businessman. But he loved us, all of us. Don’t forget, Gabriel, we all share the same blood. The same father. We all deserve to benefit from the legacy, not just you.”Ana shifts uncomfortably, her eyes darting between us. “Mía, it’s not about taking sides
(Jayden)“Daddy’s home!” Abbey squeals, her feet thundering across the wooden floor towards me. I barely have time to drop my briefcase before she launches herself at me. I scoop her up, spinning her in a slow circle while she giggles wildly. “Hey, princess,” I say, kissing her cheek. “Did you miss me?” She nods, curls bouncing. “Missed you so much! Mommy’s upstairs. She said you were bringing Henry back, but you didn’t. Where is he?” “Henry’s asleep in the car,” I explain, setting her down. “I’ll grab him in a minute. I had to get my Abbey hug first.” Bobby appears in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame like he’s auditioning for a teen drama. “Dinner’s almost ready. Sarah and I are making sure everything’s perfect for Mom. We’re making up trays.” “That so?” I ruffle his hair, and he swats my hand away with a grin. “Good work, kid. You’re the man of the house when I’m not here, right?” “Obviously,” he says, puffing his chest out. “This place would fall apart without
(Jayden)I find her on her laptop. “How are you really feeling?” I ask, standing by the edge of the bed. She looks up, her eyes softening. “Tired, but okay. It’s good to be home. That makes me feel one thousand percent better. You’ve got that look.”“What look?” I ask, kicking off my shoes and stripping down to my boxers.“The one that says you’ve got something weighing on you,” she replies, her tone softer now.I sigh, running a hand through my hair and sit on the edge of the bed. “It’s Cass. She’s in danger, Winona. Real danger.”Winona shifts, her eyes narrowing with concern. “What kind of danger? How?”“Don Alejandro, he hasn’t been arrested. He’s gone underground and he’s still calling the shots,” I say, my voice low.“But Cass has nothing to do with him, or Mia anymore. Gus cleared her of anything drug-related. How can she be in danger?”“Cass went to her old apartment. To clear it up. Trying to make a clean slate, I think. While she was there, they turned up.”“Who?”“Mia fir
(Cass)I stride through the penthouse, my stiletto heels clicking against the marble floor with purpose.I know I look good—stunning, actually. This dress hugs every curve just right, and the deep emerald green makes my eyes pop.Tonight is about reminding myself that I have a feminine side and I’m not afraid to use it. Gabriel may have been part of my past, but I’m going to show him just how irresistible the present me is. But as I head towards the elevator, Viktor steps out, his tall frame filling the space and his expression hard as stone. He crosses his arms and plants himself directly in front of the doors. “Ready for your date then??” he asks, his voice low, almost a growl. “You know I am,” I reply, refusing to let him intimidate me. “Unless you plan to stand there all night.” His eyes rake over me, lingering just a second too long on the neckline of my dress before snapping back to my face. “You’re really going out with Gabriel.” It’s not a question. “Yes, I am.” I tilt my
(Winona)The soft cry of a baby envelopes me. At first, it’s faint, like it’s coming from another room. Then it grows louder, more insistent. I’m fumbling, trying to pinpoint the direction, but I can’t find it. My hands press against empty air, the cries getting louder. I’m coming, baby. I’m coming. I wake with a gasp, my chest so tight I can’t draw a breath back in. My hands grip the sheets. It’s like I’ve been running. But I’m in bed. My bed.I look over and see Jayden isn’t beside me. But bright sun is coming through the window. I must have slept late.The room is still. I finally suck a breath into my lungs. No baby crying. No baby to find. No baby.The realization twists. I sit up, forcing myself to breathe slowly, deliberately. “It’s just a dream,” I whisper, running a hand through my hair. “Just a stupid dream.” ***After dressing in a loose shirt and jeans, I decide to head downstairs. The scent of coffee and toast wafts up, warm and inviting. I can hear the kids’ chat
(Lisa)I can’t breathe.Meeting this CEO is going to be the death of me. I’ve been throwing up from nerves all morning.I adjust my blazer, trying to act like I’m not about to pass out, and glance over at Winona, who’s giving me the look—the one that says she’s about two seconds away from laughing at me.I’ve never worn a damn blazer in my life. Give me a mini-dress any day.“You know, I didn’t sign up for this level of stress. I thought we were just going to grab lunch with some rich guy, not audition for a role in The Apprentice,” I mutter under my breath, trying to hide the shaky hands clutching my bag.Winona raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “It’s not The Apprentice. Just act like you know what you’re doing. And for God’s sake, don’t spill a drink on the guy.”“Drink, do you think he’ll offer some bubbles?” I deadpan.“It’s 9am, I think not, I meant coffee.”“Damn.”“You’ll survive.”“Barely. I’m not cut out for this crap.”“You know it. I’ll always b
(Winona)Lisa’s body is sprawled awkwardly on the sleek office floor, and my heart nearly stops as I drop to my knees beside her.“I’m Logan Bennett.” The sound of Logan’s voice, Lance’s voice, steady but sharp, slices through the haze of my panic.I glance up at him. Neater haircut, lesser designer suit, but that is Lance Collins right there.What the actual fuck is going on? No wonder she collapsed.“I’m calling 911,” he says, his phone already to his ear. “St James Hospital is close.”“Lisa!” I whisper, shaking her gently. Her skin feels clammy, her breathing shallow but steady. “Come on, Lis, wake up.” I turn her over to the recovery position. She is breathing but she isn’t waking up.Logan lowers his phone. “Paramedics are on the way.” His gaze flickers between Lisa and me, worry etched into his expression. “Is she…?”“She’s breathing,” I say. “But she’s not waking up.”Logan crouches down, his movements deliberate and calm, and for a moment, his presence reminds me so much of La
(Cass)The estate is always buzzing, a whirlwind of activity that makes my head spin. Between the kitchen, the constant flow of guests, and the never-ending lists of things to do, there’s always something in motion.But my only day off this fortnight is tomorrow and I can’t wait to get out of this kitchen. The tension in my neck that no amount of stretching is going to fix. The tension in my whole body that can only be fixed by one thing and my rechargeable collection ain’t gonna cut it.I need something real, something to blow off the steam that’s been building for weeks.I’m making my way out of the estate’s kitchen when I see Viktor lingering by the rose arbor archway, watching me. He knows I have to go through it to get to the cottage. I can’t help but feel a flash of irritation. If he insists on being my uninvited shadow, he can at least be useful and scratch my itch.He wants it too, but he’s all concerned about if it’s right and proper. I’m not interested in dancing around it a
(Lisa)The USB is shoved in the back of the cupboard. I don’t need to watch it to feel it. Lance’s voice, his thoughts, his truths—maybe. Or maybe it’s just his grin and some awkwardly stupid joke about death.You never know what you’ll get with Lance.I still haven’t answered Winona’s last text. I just can’t. She’s going to know something is up as soon as we meet in person. How can I do this to her?I can’t tell Winona. How could I? After what she’s lost? After that brutal, hollow look in her eyes when she told me about the hysterectomy?She said she was okay. That she’d accepted it.She was lying. I know it. And if I tell her I’m pregnant now? If I admit I’m carrying Lance’s baby and that I don’t want to be a mother?It would be a gut punch she doesn’t deserve.Tears sting my eyes. I swipe them away and force myself back to the files.Project Lighthouse—Pilot Program ResultsI curl up on the couch, surrounded by a fortress of papers and files, all scrawled with his handwriting. No
(Winona)The second I step into the farmhouse, the noise hits me like a freight train. Henry is wailing from his highchair, Abbey and Sarah are locked in a heated argument at the craft table, and Bobby’s lying facedown on the couch muttering something about the injustice of salad for dinner. River stands near the sink with a unicorn sticker stuck to her shirt. Kit is pacing across the living room barefoot, holding a toy walkie-talkie and trying to negotiate peace terms between the girls. Yeah. Long day for everyone. “Mama!” Henry’s sobbing slows the moment he spots me, his arms shooting up. He grabs at the air with his hands. “Mama.”“Hey, buddy.” I drop my bag and scoop him up, pressing his sweaty little face into my neck. His hiccuping sobs slow instantly, his tiny hands clutching my collar. I bounce him gently, scanning the chaos. “So... I see today went smoothly.” Kit drops into an armchair with a groan. “Oh yeah. Textbook. We had routine but that was a major fail.” River t
(Jayden)There’s no hesitation in the way the staff greet me. A few nods, murmured “Bonjour, Monsieur Brennan,” or “Goedemorgen,” the Belgian Dutch mixing in seamlessly. With Winona’s help, I’ve got the basics of three languages down.It’s a far cry from the first time I walked in here when half the team still thought I was some overprivileged American with no business running Gus’s empire. They hated me and all thought I would fail.Now? They respect me.I make my way to the executive floor, where Matteo is already waiting by the elevators, arms crossed. I know I’ll cop some fun and games from him. But also know he operates the finance department like a steel vice.“Mon frère! Look who finally remembered where his office is,” he announces in dramatic Italian flair.“Miss me that much?” I smirk, stepping inside the elevator. “Pfft, please,” Matteo scoffs, pressing the button for the top floor. “You flatter yourself. I was enjoying the silence.”The doors close, and Matteo leans agai
(Winona)“It’s more than just budgeting. More than saving. Vault is the bridge between financial literacy and financial success.” Phillip has everyone mesmerized by the sheer magnitude of his presentation.His confidence and maturity are magnetic. I’m impressed. The last time I was in the same room as him, I had to deal with his innuendos, his smug little smirks, and that irritating way he acted like a schoolboy caught kissing behind the gym.But this? This is different.He commands the room without effort, every movement deliberate. Even the way he flips through slides is calculated. Not a single wasted word or motion.He has my attention.“Think about it—what’s the biggest issue people have with money? Not rich people, normal everyday people.”“Understanding how to make it work for them?” Darien tentatively suggests.“Exactly!” Phillip grins and fist-bumps Darien. “Understanding how to make it work for them. Schools don’t teach it, banks don’t prioritize it, and the internet is full
(Winona)“…and that’s why we’re proposing a total overhaul,” Darien is saying. His voice is confident, but his idea is garbage.I hate it. None of this new branding speaks to innovation or trust—it looks like stuff college interns throw together after one too many energy drinks. I open my mouth to tell him to sit down, but before I can, the meeting room door swings open. And every muscle in my body locks up. Phillip. For a second, I think I’m hallucinating—like my subconscious decided to really mess with me today.But no, he’s real. Tall, perfectly put together, that same effortless confidence that made him such a force in my business. And in my life. The man I was engaged to. The man I built a business with. The man I spent one reckless night with before everything went to hell. But even more than that, Phillip was my trusted friend. My best friend when I had to flee from Judy and Ashlyn before I had Abby. He knows he almost as intimately as Jayden does. He also betrayed me in
(Winona)Jayden’s gone. I remind myself of that as I walk through the towering glass doors of the office building. He’s only in Brussels. Not gone-gone. I have things to do. I’m handling everything. I exhale. I do have this.So why does it feel like the entire world is off balance? Kit and River are back at the house, settling into their first official day. The kids were so stoked they practically pushed me out the door. Anne’s in the city at her apartment for the week.The kids are fine. Jayden’s fine. Everything is under control.Except me. Everywhere I look, there are babies.Babies in strollers, babies strapped to parents' chests, babies gurgling in cafés.My heart surges to grab them up, smell their baby smell. Feel their soft new hair. Hold them close and never let them go again. I push the thoughts away. It’s not only weird but it’s unhinged to think like that about other people’s babies.One locks eyes with me now from the elevator next to mine, chubby hands gripping his p
(Mia)The key doesn’t turn. I frown, twisting it harder, but the lock won’t budge. I jiggle it, my pulse kicking up. What the hell? I step back, staring at the door of Cass’s old apartment like it’s personally betrayed me. She left here months ago, so there’s no reason she should’ve changed the locks. I know she’s back in Brussels now and as far as I can see she never came near the place while she was back.Unless she somehow knows I’ve been using it. Maybe Gus found out and tipped her off. A chill creeps down my spine, but I shove it down. It’s coincidence.This is probably just a landlord thing. A random maintenance update. But still. I know how this looks. I know how it will look to grandfather and I’m meeting him here before he leaves this city.Behind me, footsteps echo through the dimly lit hallway. Slow. Measured. Unhurried.I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.“Problem, mija?”Don Alejandro’s voice slides over me like oil—smooth, but suffocating.I inhale slowl
(Cass)By the time the last dish is stacked, my arms feel like they’re made of lead. My back aches, my hands sting from endless scrubbing, and I swear I’ll smell like onion peels and garlic skins for the next month. It’s nearly two a.m. But I’m still standing. Barely. The Brussels estate kitchen is a monster. The lunch service alone had my head spinning—three different menus running at once, dignitaries arriving early, last-minute changes because some VIP decided they’re suddenly vegan but still want the flavor of foie gras. Fine dining is bullshit. And I love it. I grab a clean cloth and wipe the sink and counters dry, catching my blurry reflection in the shiny steel of the dishwasher. Flushed cheeks, hair barely contained in my headscarf, exhaustion written all over my face. The executive chef—aka Satan in a toque—barks at the nightshift team, sending them scrambling into action while I keep my head down. I learned that trick fast.Do the grunt work, keep your mouth shut, don