INICIAR SESIÓNWilliams' POVMy father arrived on a Thursday.Clara had flagged the flight details two days earlier, forwarded by his assistant abroad.I didn't go to the airport.I told myself I was busy with work. The kind of thing a man running a company was supposed to prioritize over airport arrivals.I was in my study when I heard the car pull into the drive.Samantha had organized dinner.I came downstairs at seven to find the table set with the kind of careful attention that communicates effort — the centerpiece she had bought last week and placed with the authority of someone furnishing a space that belonged to them. She was in the kitchen speaking quietly to the cook.She looked up when I walked in."He's in the sitting room," she said. "He's been there for an hour."I said nothing."Ethan." She set down the wooden spoon. "Whatever this dinner is, I need you to tell me how to handle it.""There's nothing to handle," I said. "It's just a dinner."She looked at me for a moment with an expres
Williams' POVI missed the meeting by thirty minutes again.I knew it before Henderson said anything. I had known it since the third week of the quarter, when I had sat at my desk with the preliminary reports open on my screen and found myself reading the same paragraph four times without retaining a single word of it.Henderson was the oldest board member. Seventy-one, silver-haired, the kind of man who had attended enough of these meetings to understand that how you respond to a number matters.He looked at the figures on the projected slide for a long moment. Then he looked at me.Across the table, Marsh cleared his throat."The overseas expansion projections seem optimistic given current—""They're accurate," I said, cutting him off.Marsh looked at his copy of the report. Then at me.His pen moved to the margin of his page and made a small mark.The meeting ended at half past twelve.The board filed out with the particular controlled energy of people who had things to say to each
Bella's POVThe apartment was small.Deliberately so.I had chosen it that way—two rooms, a narrow kitchen, a window that looked out onto a street busy enough to feel safe. The kind of place that exists in the middle of a city without being part of it.I had been here four months.Four months of learning how to sleep on a mattress that was not the Hayes family's imported Italian linen. Four months of grocery shopping without a household account and cooking without a staff.Four months of being nobody's wife.It felt like the first real air I had breathed in three years.I was at the table when the discomfort started.The particular weighted fullness that had become my constant companion over the past weeks, the feeling of carrying something enormous in a body that was quietly rearranging itself to accommodate what it had been given.I pressed both palms against the sides of my stomach and breathed through it.The doctor here had been thorough. Careful. She had looked at the scans with
Ethan's POVSamantha was at the kitchen counter with a cup of tea in her hand, scrolling through her phone. She looked up when I walked in and smiled.“Are you done with the meeting?” she asked.“Yes,” I said as I pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table.She went back to her phone while I watched her.The thing about Samantha was that she was very good at pretending. At presenting exactly the version of a moment she wanted you to see and holding it so steadily that questioning it felt unreasonable.She looked completely unbothered but I am very certain she was the one that tore the photograph.The timing of the lawyer’s arrival replayed itself in my mind.The lawyer hadn’t mentioned being kept waiting when I walked in.He had only greeted me, opened his briefcase, and moved directly to the documentation. No comment about the wait.Samantha set her phone down and looked at me.“You’re quiet,” she said.“I’m tired,” I said.She studied me for a moment with the particular attenti
Ethan's POVI didn't move from my desk for almost two hours.The photograph was still open on my screen. I had zoomed in and out countless times.I set my phone face down on the desk and pressed both palms flat against the surface, forcing myself to breathe slowly — the kind of breathing meant to convince your body it is on fire.I picked up the phone and called Reeves. He answered on the second ring."The photograph," I said without greeting. "I need you to confirm what I'm looking at.""Mr. Hayes—""Confirm it, Reeves.""Based on the visual assessment and the timeline of her departure," he said carefully, "and cross-referenced with the clinic visit I reported previously — the assessment would be consistent with an advanced early pregnancy. Possibly into the second trimester at time of photograph."Second trimester.The words landed in my chest with weight, and the memory rebuilt itself piece by piece: she had been pregnant when she signed the divorce papers, pregnant when she stood a
Ethan's POVI called Reeves before breakfast the next morning.Samantha was still upstairs. Rebecca had left for her own apartment without eating, which was unlike her — she was a woman who never missed a meal regardless of her emotional state. The fact that she'd gone without even taken coffee told me the phone call with my father had unsettled her more than she'd shown.It had unsettled me too but I just had nowhere to put it."I need you to expand the search internally," I told Reeves when he picked up. “Hire whatever resources you need. I want her location within the week."There was a pause on his end. "That's a significant escalation, Mr. Hayes.""I'm aware.""May I ask what has changed?""Company matters," I said. "It's purely procedural."It was obvious in his voice that he wanted to argue as the decision was too dangerous but Reeves didn't push because that was what I paid him for."I'll need an expanded budget authorization.""You have it. Send the paperwork to my private e







