MasukThe morning light filtered softly through the hospital blinds, casting gentle stripes across the sterile white walls of the ICU room. The machines continued their steady rhythm—beep, hiss, beep, a mechanical lullaby that had become the soundtrack of Lord Blackwood's existence for the past several days.Mrs. Blackwood sat in her usual chair beside the bed, a cup of lukewarm tea clutched in her hands. She'd been there since five in the morning, unable to sleep at home, drawn back to her husband's side by an invisible thread of hope and fear.She stared at his face, memorizing every line, every shadow. His breathing was so shallow that sometimes she had to lean close just to confirm he was still alive."Please," she whispered for the thousandth time. "Please wake up. Please come back to me."As if responding to her plea, Lord Blackwood's fingers twitched.Mrs. Blackwood's breath caught. She leaned forward, setting down her tea so quickly it sloshed over the rim."Darling?" Her voice was
The night was quiet in Serena's bedroom. The only sound came from the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional rustle of fabric as she moved around the room.The curtains were drawn, blocking out the glow of the city lights. A single lamp on her nightstand cast a warm but eerie glow across the space. On her bed lay several items, carefully selected and arranged like tools for a surgeon preparing for an operation.Serena stood before her full-length mirror, studying her reflection with cold, calculating eyes. She wore all black—a fitted turtleneck, slim pants, and flat shoes. Nothing flashy. Nothing memorable. The kind of outfit that would blend into shadows, that cameras would struggle to capture clearly.Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. No jewelry. No makeup. She looked nothing like the glamorous society wife she usually presented to the world.She looked like someone preparing for war.Satisfied with her appearance, Serena turned to her bed and picked
The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the windows of the Harrington mansion study. The barrister sat slumped in his leather chair, staring blankly at the wall across from him. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes like bruises. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened and hanging askew around his neck.He hadn't slept properly in days.Every creak of the house made him jump. Every car that passed on the street made his heart race. Every phone notification sent a spike of fear through his chest.But nothing had come.No messages. No calls. No more photographs.Three days of silence.Maybe—just maybe, Serena had given up. Maybe she'd moved on to some other scheme. Maybe the photographs had just been a warning, and now that he'd been sufficiently terrified, she was satisfied.He wanted to believe that.God, how badly he wanted to believe that.The barrister rubbed his face with both hands, feeling the rough stubble that had grown from days of not shaving. He looked at the desk in fron
The morning arrived with a vengeance. Lira's eyes snapped open as her stomach churned violently. The nausea hit her like a wave, sudden and overwhelming. She threw off the covers and bolted toward the bathroom, her hand pressed against her mouth.She barely made it to the toilet before her stomach emptied itself. The retching was violent, her body shaking with each wave. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes from the force of it.Behind her, she heard movement. Damian appeared in the doorway within seconds, his hair disheveled from sleep, concern etched across his face."Lira," he said softly, kneeling beside her.She couldn't respond. Another wave hit her.Damian gathered her hair gently in his hands, holding it back from her face. His other hand rubbed small circles on her back, offering what comfort he could."I've got you," he murmured. "Just breathe. It's going to pass."When the nausea finally subsided, Lira slumped against the cool bathroom tile, exhausted. Her whole body f
The morning sun broke through the clouds, casting pale light across the hospital room. Mrs. Blackwood sat in the chair beside her husband's bed, her fingers wrapped around his hand. She had spent another night in the hospital, refusing to go home despite the nurses' gentle insistence.Her eyes were fixed on his face, watching for any sign of movement. Any flicker of consciousness.Lord Blackwood remained still. The machines continued their steady rhythm. Beep. Hiss. Beep.A soft knock came at the door.Mrs. Blackwood looked up to see a young woman in a crisp business suit standing in the doorway. She recognized her as Rebecca, her husband's personal assistant."Mrs. Blackwood," Rebecca said softly, bowing her head respectfully. "I'm sorry to disturb you.""It's alright, Rebecca. Come in."The assistant stepped inside, clutching a leather portfolio against her chest. Her expression was uncertain, as if she wasn't sure she should be there."I wouldn't have come, but there's something th
The evening had settled over the city by the time Harold's car pulled into the driveway of his mansion. The sun had disappeared behind the buildings, leaving behind streaks of orange and purple across the sky. He killed the engine and sat for a moment, his hands still gripping the steering wheel. The hospital visit had left him unsettled. His father's pale face. The machines keeping him alive. The way Damian had looked at him suspiciously and calculating, as if Harold were guilty of something. And maybe he was. Not of poisoning. He hadn't done that. But of wanting his father's position. Of resenting Damian's success. Of feeling like a failure in comparison. Harold stepped out of the car and walked toward the entrance. The bodyguards stationed at the door bowed slightly as he passed. He barely acknowledged them. Inside, the mansion was quiet. The usual sounds of Max playing or Serena moving through the house were absent. Only the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant t
The afternoon sun shone bright, casting its soft golden light over the tall walls of the Blackwood mansion. The rays touched the glass windows gently, making them glimmer like diamonds. The flowers in the front yard bent lightly in the breeze, and the large gate stood firm, guarding the secret
The evening was sinking in, and the sky was turning grey as the wind swept around the hospital. Inside, the cold air hummed softly through the vents.Damian sat quietly in the doctor’s office, with his heart pounding hard in his chest. His mind kept spinning with the image of Lira’s face, the same
Damian’s eyes burned with anger as he stared at Leo. The way Leo smiled at Lira, the ease in his tone, made his blood boil. He could not stand the fact that Lira remembered him but did not remember him, her husband. He swallowed hard, bit his inner lips. This couldn't be happening.Without thinki
Lira and Damian stayed still, with their hearts beating fast like drums. The silence in the room felt thick, and their eyes met for a brief moment that made both of them restless inside. Then, all of a sudden, Lira felt her heart racing, as if it could burst. Quickly, she let go of Damian’s arm







