LOGINClaire Hamilton gave up everything for love. Her name, her inheritance, and her father’s trust. Everyone warned her not to marry Lucas Blackwell, the charming businessman with secrets behind his smile. But she didn’t listen. Now her father is dead in a suspicious crash. And on the day she buries him, Lucas hands her divorce papers and says the cruelest words: “I no longer have use for you.” He takes everything: her family company, her wealth, her dignity. But what he doesn’t know is… Claire is pregnant. She vanishes, opens a small flower shop, and raises her son in peace—until Alexander Sinclair walks in. A cold billionaire. A grieving widower. His daughter hasn’t been herself since her mother died… but around Claire, she begins to heal. So does Alexander. Claire tries to guard her heart, but he keeps showing up, not just for flowers, but for her. Just when she dares to love again, Lucas returns. Claims he’s dying and wants her back. Says walking away was his biggest mistake. And that’s when Claire uncovers the truth: Lucas planned everything. Now he’s back to finish what he started. But Claire isn’t the girl he once discarded. She’s a mother. She’s angry. And she’s not running anymore. This time… she’s the one coming for him.
View MoreI wasn’t supposed to be here.The plan was simple: have the courier handle the delivery, keep things professional, avoid any unnecessary face-to-face interactions. But when the delivery service called last minute to say their van had broken down, I didn’t even think twice before volunteering to do it myself.And maybe — though I’d rather die than admit it, I was a little too eager to come. To see him again. Alexander.One week. It had only been one week since he stepped into my flower shop and turned the air into something sharp, charged. But in those days, between orders and Maya’s chatter and Aiden’s stubborn questions about whether chickens can talk, my mind had found a hundred ways to circle back to him. To his voice. His presence. That pull I still couldn’t explain.I pulled up the long, winding driveway, my tiny Corolla looking like a lost child against the towering gates and perfectly trimmed hedges. My heart stuttered as the house finally came into view. No, house wasn’t the
I couldn’t sleep.Not because of the wind or the occasional hoot of an owl outside my window. It was something else, something heavier.I sat at the edge of my bed, staring at the dim glow of the lamp across the room, my hands wrapped around a cold mug of chamomile tea that I’d long stopped drinking.Blackwell Enterprises.In Maine.Here.I kept hearing it, over and over again. Like it was echoing through every nerve in my body.I knew this peace was too good to last.For four years, I built a life here. A quiet, lovely life. One where I wasn’t Lucas Blackwell’s wife. Just Claire. Just me.And now he was coming to my town.Or worse—he was already here.I looked toward Aiden’s room. The door was cracked open just enough to see the edge of his Cars-themed nightlight.He was still sleeping peacefully.Blissfully unaware of the storm that might be heading our way.I didn’t know what Lucas knew, if anything. I didn’t know if his expansion to this town was just business or something more. B
The moment he stopped in front of my counter, I finally noticed the little girl clinging tightly to his hand. She had been standing quietly beside him the whole time, like a shadow I hadn’t even seen until just now.She couldn’t have been older than four or five, dressed in a tiny navy coat with shiny buttons and caramel-brown boots that matched her curls. But what truly caught my attention wasn’t her outfit; it was the way she looked up at me with wide, solemn eyes. Eyes that mirrored his. I’d seen cold before. But this... this was something else. She looked like someone who had already learned too much about silence.“Can I help you?” I managed, forcing my voice to come out even.The man—Alexander, I would later learn, nodded once. “I’d like to place a bouquet order for next week. Something custom.”“Of course,” I said, straightening. “Any specific occasion?”He hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. “A remembrance.”My fingers paused on the notepad. “Got it. Any pre
Four years later…“Mummy! Mummy! Watch me gooooo!”I looked up from the counter just in time to see Aiden barreling through the shop, monster truck in hand like it was a prized jewel. His little legs moved so fast it was a miracle he didn’t trip over them. His sneakers, bright blue with tiny lights, flashed with every stomp, and he made the loudest engine noises his little lungs could manage.“Careful, superhero!” I called out, grinning. “If you crash into the tulips again, I swear I’m selling that truck.”He gasped, clutched the toy to his chest like it was sacred, and shook his head dramatically. “Nooo! Not Thunder!”Thunder. That’s what he named the truck. Apparently, it saved the world every Tuesday.I leaned my weight onto the counter, arms folded, chin resting on my hand as I watched him. My whole heart in one tiny, messy, loud, beautiful boy.It still felt surreal sometimes how we ended up here. In this little town tucked into the coast of Maine, surrounded by old lighthouses,


















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