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Is this love?
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2025-09-06 15:41:28
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Game over. The press conference.
Maddie’s POV The cameras flash like lightning, blinding bursts that ricochet across the hall as Logan and I step up onto the stage, the weight of expectation settling heavily over the crowd of reporters, investors, and onlookers who have packed themselves into the conference hall. The air is thick with speculation, the buzz of whispered questions swelling and breaking in waves that crash into sudden silence the moment Logan’s tall frame commands the podium, his presence effortlessly dominating the room. I stand just to his side, my chin lifted, my expression composed, every inch of me the woman who has walked through fire and now refuses to bow to the smoke.Logan’s voice, when he speaks, is steady, deep, carrying the kind of finality that leaves no room for challenge. “Effective immediately, Bella Rosa is no more,” Logan says. The words hang in the air, shocking in their simplicity, no explanation offered, no numbers, no reassurances, just the clean, merciless declaration of an end
Game over. They are going down.
Maddie’s POVSunlight filters through the tall windows of Heavenly’s boardroom, cutting sharp lines across the polished table where the other board members of Bella Rosa are already seated, papers shuffled in nervous hands, eyes darting around the room. I enter with Logan at my side, the subtle click of my heels against the floor echoing like a heartbeat, drawing every gaze toward me. My stomach turns with adrenaline, but my expression is calm. I am Donna Santoro now, not just Maddie, not just a mother, not just a woman who endured, but the woman who commands.“Good morning,” I begin, voice steady, filling the space without needing to raise it. The room falls into silence.“I know you all wonder why I asked you all to be here today. I’ve recently sold my majority shares in Bella Rosa. Effective immediately, Madeline O’Connor now holds a controlling interest in the Bella Rosa group. I sold all my shares to her for one dollar,” Logan says. His words land like stones thrown into still wa
Game over. Are we a family now?
Maddie’s POVThe first thing I become aware of is warmth, the kind that seeps not only from the heavy sheets tangled around me but from the body pressed firmly against my back. Logan’s arm is curved possessively around my waist, his hand resting flat against my stomach, the slow rhythm of his breathing fanning across the back of my neck. The estate is utterly quiet, that rare countryside hush that is never truly silent but filled with the faint chirp of crickets, the rustle of leaves stirred by a distant breeze, the low creak of the house as it settles with age. It is the kind of quiet that feels alive rather than empty.Last night happened, and I do not know how I feel about it. Every inch of my body aches with the memory of it, the kind of ache that makes my skin still buzz with the ghost of his touch, the raw tenderness of being wanted without hesitation. Logan kissed me like I had always belonged to him, and when he finally took me, it felt less like crossing a line and more like
Game over. Is this love?
Maddie’s POVThe silence that follows the signing lingers like smoke after a fire, heavy and charged, as if the walls themselves understand what has just been set in motion. The contract lies on the desk, the black ink still glistening faintly in the lamplight, binding Logan and me not only in a pact of revenge but in something deeper, something that thrums beneath my skin like an unspoken promise. I trace my fingers along the edge of the desk as I stand there, staring down at the papers as though they might suddenly burst into flame, the weight of the choice pressing down on me and yet lifting me. For the first time in years, I feel like I have power, like I am no longer caged by the legacy of my father or the betrayal of those who were supposed to love me.Logan doesn’t move at first. He simply watches me, his gaze fixed and unwavering, his brooding eyes taking in every flicker of my expression as though he is cataloguing the precise moment Madeline Santoro finally stepped into her
Game over. The beginning of the end.
Maddie’s POVThe estate is wrapped in the kind of silence only the countryside can provide, that deep quiet that screams with the faint chorus of crickets and the occasional distant bark of a dog somewhere beyond the tree line, the sort of silence that feels alive rather than empty. I stroll down the wide corridor, barefoot on polished wood, the soft glow of the chandeliers throwing golden light across the walls and carpets, my hand trailing absently along the smooth bannister as I descend the stairs. Upstairs, the twins are finally asleep, their laughter and endless games tucked away beneath blankets. The sweet rhythm of their breathing is proof that, for once, they feel safe enough to let go of the day.I pause halfway down the staircase, leaning slightly on the bannister as I take in the view below. Logan’s estate is vast, larger than anything I ever imagined living in, and yet it doesn’t feel cold or overwhelming. There’s warmth in the thick rugs that muffle footsteps, in the fram
Game over. Fun with the twins.
Madeline’s POVThe house feels almost serene as Logan and I step through the front door, the sunlight streaming in through the large windows catching on the polished wood floors and casting long golden rectangles across the living room, but I know better than to trust the quiet because in our lives, peace is always temporary, especially with the twins around, and sure enough, barely have I set my bag down and started to take a deep breath when I hear the unmistakable sound of plotting laughter echoing down the hall. The laughter is far too knowing for their ages, and I can already feel that pit of apprehension forming in my stomach that tells me I am about to be dragged into one of their chaotic schemes, whether I like it or not. I glance at Logan, who is settling onto the couch, taking a newspaper to read with a look of calm detachment that I know is entirely performance on his behave because his eyes are darting toward the hallway, already anticipating the impending ambush.Before I
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