LOGIN[Sarah’s POV]"Ms. Hale? If you look at slide fourteen, you’ll see the projected margins for the Q3 expansion into the Asian markets."Adam, the Director of Global Marketing, was standing by the massive LED screen. He was young, sharp, and radiating a nervous energy. He had been talking for forty-five minutes.I didn't hear a word of it.Instead, I felt the phantom sensation of the North ridge wind against my bare skin. I felt the rough texture of the wool blanket beneath me and the heat of Norman’s mouth against my neck. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the way the sunlight had caught the sweat on his brow as he looked down at me, claiming me in the middle of my own land.A slow, involuntary blush crept up my neck, warming my cheeks. I leaned back in the executive chair, my fingers tracing the outline of my lower lip, remembering the weight of his kiss. A small, private smile tugged at the corners of my mouth."Ms. Hale? Ma'am?"I snapped back to the present. The room was silent. T
[Sarah’s POV]The house felt like a morgue as I moved through the hallway with my shoulders squared. But the usual chatter, that had once filled these walls was gone. I walked through the kitchen on my way to the terrace, my heels clicking against the stone. Rosa was there, dicing onions. She didn't look up. She didn't offer her usual morning greeting or ask if I wanted a second cup of coffee. Her shoulders stiff, her movements entirely devoid of warmth.I hadn’t apologized yet. The words sat heavy in my throat every time I opened my mouth, but they refused to come out. Yesterday’s explosion still echoed in my ears. Part of me knew I had been too harsh. Another part, the raw and exhausted part that had been carrying too much for too long, still believed they needed the reminder. I turned and walked out, leaving the kitchen."You’re overthinking it, Sarah."I jumped slightly as Norman stepped out from the shadows of the hallway. He didn't look like the brooding, sulking man who had s
[Tyler’s POV]The silence of in our family mansion wasn't the peaceful kind. I sat on the edge of a velvet armchair, my head in my hands, listening to the rhythmic thump-thump of a rubber ball hitting the marble floor. Leena was sitting in the center of the foyer, surrounded by the designer suitcases Sarah had packed. The child looked too small for this house.The house was cold. Even with the heat cranked up, the stone walls seemed to radiate a chill that no furnace could touch."Tyler? Where is the Nanny? Where is Mrs. Gable?"I looked up. Chloe was leaning over the banister, her hair perfectly layed looking like she was ready for a gala instead of a family collapse. She was frowning, her phone clutched in her hand."She’s upstairs, Chloe. Putting some of Leena’s things away," I said, my voice sounding like it had been dragged through gravel. "Why?""I’m starving," Chloe said, descending the stairs with a practiced grace that made my stomach churn. "I’ve been craving those truffle F
[Sarah’s POV]"Clear the room properly," I said.My voice was sharp, cold, and dangerously tense. "I want the suitcases in the entryway by 6:00PM. If Tyler isn’t at the gate to collect them, Dex will drive them to the city himself. I don't care if he drops them at a hotel or on a street corner. They are not spending another sunrise on this property."Marissa and two of the junior house staff stood paralyzed in the hallway. They were holding a stack of Leena’s pink cashmere blankets and a wooden puzzle set. They looked at me as if I had suddenly grown a second head."Sarah, dear..." Mrs. Gable’s voice drifted from the sunroom, fragile and trembling. She was seated in a chair, her trembling hands clutching a diaper bag. She looked older than she had that morning, shattered by the sudden, violent shift in the atmosphere.. "Leena is just settling here, getting to bond with her brother. Surely, whatever Mr Rider has done... The child is innocent."I didn't let her finish. I didn't even tu
[Tyler’s POV]I slammed the heavy oak door of my father’s house at the east wing of Manhattan shut with a loud bang. The sound echoed up the marble staircase and through the vaulted ceilings of the Rider estate, a hollow, mocking boom that punctuated the end of an era. I didn't care if the neighbors heard.I had driven like a madman behind my father’s black sedan, the two of us weaving through Manhattan traffic like funeral cars racing to a burial. Except we weren't burying Beatrice today. We were burying the Rider Group.My father, the man who had built a kingdom out of steel and secrets walked with a terrifying, rhythmic calmness toward the bar in the corner of the study. He moved like a man who had all the time in the world, shedding his suit jacket and draping it over a leather armchair as if we had just come home from a pleasant charity gala rather than a corporate execution.I stood in the center of the room, my chest heaving, my hands still curled into useless, trembling fists.
[Tyler’s POV]The forty-eight-hour grace period Marcus had granted me to fix my mess has elapsed.As the elevator hissed open on the fiftieth floor, the air felt thinner, colder. I adjusted the knot of my silk tie, my fingers trembling slightly. I was walking into the mouth of the wolves bigger than I am, heading toward the boardroom to face the men who had spent the last three days sharpening their knives for my back. I had spent those seventy-two hours screaming into the void. My father hadn't replied to a single text. He hadn't returned a single call. The silence from the man was the loudest warning I’d ever received."Any updates?" I asked my secretary, leaning over her desk. My voice sounded ragged, even to my own ears.She didn't look up from her screen. Her posture was stiff, her professional warmth replaced by a clinical detachment. "Nothing new, Mr. Rider. But your father is already in the boardroom. They’re waiting for you."My heart did a slow, heavy roll. He’s here? The o
Sarah’s POV"Push, Sarah! Push!"Rosa’s voice was barely audible over the rainstorm outside. A massive crack of thunder shook the entire house, shaking the windows so hard I thought the glass would shatter over my bed."I can't!" I screamed, my fingers digging into Norman’s hand until I felt his bon
[Tyler’s POV]The dining room of my sister Brenda’s mansion was a sea of white linen, and the suffocating scent of lilies. It was supposed to be a family bonding evening. Instead, it felt like a wrestling ring.I adjusted my tie for the tenth time, my skin crawling. I had just come from a warehouse
"If you sneeze, we’re dead," Norman hissed, his eyes darting to the window. "If you trip over those boots, you blow your cover. Do you understand the stakes, Sarah?""I’m not Sarah today," I snapped back, my voice gravelly and low. I adjusted the itchy beard and patted my five months old pregnancy
[Sarah’s POV]"She’s waking up! Norman, look!"The voice was thin and distant, like someone shouting from the other side of a bridge. I fought against the heavy, dark fog pulling at my limbs. My eyelids felt like they had been glued shut, but the sterile, sharp smell of bleach and antiseptic told m





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