Imogene Scott I sit frozen on the edge of the bed, staring at my phone screen, the words "Unknown Caller" still burned into my mind. The robotic voice from the call plays over and over again. “Whatever you think you’re doing, stop it now. Things might get ugly.”A chill runs through me, and I rub my arms, trying to shake it off. My mind races. Who was it? How do they know what I’m doing? And why now? The door creaks open, snapping me out of my thoughts. My heart jumps in my chest, and I instinctively clutch my phone tighter. But it’s Damien. Relief floods me, but only for a moment. His face is drawn. Something about him feels off. “Hey,” I say softly, rising from the bed. I move toward him and wrap my arms around him. He hugs me back, but it’s not the same. His body feels stiff, like he’s holding something back. I pull back and study his face. “Are you okay?” I ask. “Just work stress,” he mutters, brushing past me. Work stress? I know Damien better than that. He’s hid
Damien Shaw I walk into the office that morning, lost in thought. I can still feel Imogene’s body next to mine from last night. I wanted to ask her about Ville Road, but I don’t know how to do it without sounding accusatory. Without making her feel like I’m questioning her. Hell, I’ve never been good at that—asking the hard questions, digging into the things I want to know but don’t always want the answers to. I close my eyes briefly as I move down the hall. What the hell was she doing there? I tell myself I trust her. I do. I reach my office, push the door open, and step inside. The moment I do, I stop dead in my tracks. Kia’s pacing in front of my desk, her heels clicking against the floor. Her brows are furrowed, and she doesn’t even notice me until I clear my throat. “Mr Shaw,” she says, stopping. “Gerald dropped by earlier this morning.” I feel relief at the mention of Gerald’s name. “Gerald?” I repeat, still standing in the doorway. “I told you he was only caught u
Imogene Scott The air inside the car feels suffocating as I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles white against the leather. The phone call is still replaying in my head including my conversation with Lila. It wasn’t her that made the threatening call. I’m sure of it now. But if it wasn’t her, then who was it? I force myself to focus on the road ahead. My fingers tighten around the wheel as I take the familiar turn toward the hospital. The parking lot is half-empty. I pull into a spot near the entrance and kill the engine. For a moment, I sit there, staring at the hospital entrance. Six months. I rest a hand on my stomach to feel the faint stir of life within me. “We’re okay,” I whisper softly, but the weight in my chest doesn’t lift. I climb out of the car, the cool breeze biting against my skin as I cross the lot. The hospital doors slide open with a faint hiss, and I step into the sterile, overly bright lobby. When I reach Dr. Pepp’s office, she’s waiting for me. H
Damien ShawThe office feels suffocating tonight. It’s past 9 p.m., and I’ve been waiting all day for feedback about Gerald’s latest screw-up. Patience isn’t my strong suit, and right now, it’s wearing thin. I glance at my phone for what feels like the hundredth time. No messages. No missed calls. Not from Imogene. That’s what surprises me the most. She always checks in, even if it’s just a quick text. Maybe she’s just tired. The drive home is quiet. When I pull into the driveway, the house looks the same as it always does. I step out of the car and into the cool night air. Inside, the aroma of something faintly sweet greets me. Sheila’s in the kitchen, wiping down the counter. She looks up and smiles when she sees me. “Evening, Mr. Shaw,” she says cheerfully. “Long day?” “Yeah.” I drop my briefcase by the door and loosen my tie. “Where’s Imogene?” “She’s been asleep since this afternoon,” Sheila says. “I didn’t want to disturb her. She looked so tired.” I frown. “That’
Imogene Scott It was hard to focus on the dull ache in my lower abdomen, because I’m in a constant reminder of how close I’d come to losing everything. Abortion pills. The words echo in my mind. How? Why? I didn’t take anything like that. I wouldn’t.“Your gynecologist recommended drugs to you?” I nod, confused and uncertain at the same time. Yes, Dr. Pepp had prescribed something, and I’d taken them without hesitation, trusting they were for the twins' health. I can still see the disbelief in Damien’s eyes, the storm building behind them before he stormed out of the hospital room. Now I’m alone, left to piece together the scattered fragments of what had happened.I sit up slightly in the hospital bed, staring blankly at the door Damien just stormed out of. The words still echo in my head. It doesn’t make sense. I only took what Dr. Pepp prescribed. My hands tremble as I press them to my belly, trying to anchor myself to the reality that my babies are still safe. I can’t sto
Damien ShawI spin the car around, tires screeching against the pavement as I head back to the hospital. My hands grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles ache, but I don’t ease up. Imogene’s voice is still echoing in my head. She wants me to come back to the hospital. I don’t like the way she sounded. Not weak, but shaken. Imogene rarely lets anything rattle her, but there was something in her voice, something that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The thought of Doctor Pepp screwing up her prescription still doesn’t make sense to me. She’s been treating Imogene since the start of her pregnancy journey. Why the hell would she make such a critical mistake now? Doctors don’t just prescribe abortion pills by accident. That isn’t something that gets mixed up with iron supplements or prenatal vitamins. No, this wasn’t negligence. It was deliberate. Someone tampered with those pills. The question is—who? And why? The memory of finding Imogene bleeding out in ou
Imogene ScottI take a deep breath as Damien storms out of the room. The door shuts behind him with force. My fingers clutch the thin hospital blanket. My chest feels tight and my heart is pounding. I know that look in his eyes. I’ve seen it before. It’s a cold, lethal and destruction-promising gaze. He’s going after Lila, and knowing Damien, there’s no telling what he might do. God. I take another shaky breath, trying to steady myself. Did I make a mistake telling him? Should I have left Lila out of it? And then there’s the key. I glance at my purse on the chair beside me. The key is their. The key that might have been the cause if everything. Was it too late to return it? Lika said having it with me was dangerous, she was right after all. Was it finally time for me to let it go, to let it all go and focus on improving my family and doing better? That key is the missing piece to everything, to my father’s death. But is it even worth it anymore? I almost died today. So
Damien ShawI pull up in front of the unfinished building and slam the brakes. The place is an eyesore with crumbling concrete and, rusted steel beams. The air smells like damp wood and decay, mixed with blood, maybe. Someone’s been bleeding in there. I kill the engine and step out. My jaw is tight. I stride toward the entrance, my men flanking me. I can already hear the low and guttural groans echoing through the empty corridors. Gerald. I recognize the sound of pain, and his is unmistakable. My patience is razor-thin as I push through the half-collapsed doorway, stepping into the darkness. A single, flickering overhead bulb swings from exposed wiring.In the middle of the room, Gerald is slumped in a chair, wrists and ankles bound, his head hanging forward like a broken puppet. His face is a mess with blood crusting around his nose and lips. One eye is swollen shut. One of my men, Martin, straightens as I approach, giving me a respectful nod. “Where’s Lila Stangard?” I ask.
Damien Shaw “What else do you need me to grab? Your handbag?” I ask, watching her in the mirror as she pulls her hair up into one of those quick, messy buns that somehow still looks perfect on her.We’ve been in this house for a few days now. No noise. No schedules. Just the two of us. It’s been good but I figured she might want to stretch her wings a little. When I found out there was a small art center just half an hour from here, I booked us a private session. No people. No distractions. Just space and light and canvas.“I can grab my bag,” she says, walking to the bed where it’s tossed beside the sundress she picked earlier. It’s light yellow that ends just mid-thigh. Her bare legs steal my attention for a second longer than I mean them to.But I’m faster. I reach for the bag before she can.“You’re not allowed to carry anything,” I say, grabbing it and slinging it over my shoulder. It’s half the size of her and somehow still weighs a damn ton.She frowns at me like I’ve ju
Imogene Scott The sun is starting to go down when I wake up. The blanket is still tucked around me, and I stretch, feeling the tightness in my muscles from the nap Damien insisted I take after lunch. My body is still warm. I glance over to the clock, surprised by how much time has passed.As I sit up, Damien appears in the doorway, a small smile playing on his lips. His eyes are bright, and there’s a glint of mischief in them. He’s holding something behind his back, though I can’t tell what.“Feeling better?” he asks, his voice low, smooth. I nod slowly, still trying to shake off the drowsiness.“You wouldn’t let me sleep through the afternoon, would you?” I tease, stretching again as my arms reach above my head, my back arching. He chuckles softly, shaking his head.“I had a plan for you,” he says, stepping into the room. His smile widens. “So, I prepared a little something special for you while you were asleep.”I raise an eyebrow. “Oh really?” “Yes, really,” he says, an
Damien Shaw It’s surprising how bright the morning sun is after the heavy rain last night. I shift under the sheets and my hand reaches out instinctively, searching for Imogene, but the space beside me is empty.I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The house is quiet. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor sending a slight shiver up my spine.As I step into the hallway, the aroma of fresh apples wafts through the air. I follow the scent to the dining area and find Imogene seated at the table, meticulously slicing apples into thin wedges.“Why are you doing this so early in the morning?” I ask, approaching her.She looks up, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I just crave apples.”I chuckle, “You should’ve woken me up to cut them for you.”“It’s fine,” she replies, focusing back on her task.Suddenly, her phone beeps. She sets down the knife and picks up the device, answering the incoming video call. Kia's face appears on the screen, and beside her is
Damien Shaw We go back inside after the rain. I lead Imogene to the bathroom where I prepare her a hot bath. Steam curls up from the tub as I swirl my hand through the water, checking the temperature. Not too hot. Just warm enough to soothe her bones. She stands there quietly beside me. Her lashes are still damp from the rain, and I help her out of the oversized hoodie with gentle hands. My fingers graze her shoulders, and I swear, even soaked to the skin, she glows. There’s a peace in her eyes I haven’t seen in weeks.She steps into the bath with a small sigh, like her whole body is unraveling, and I wait for a second—just watching her exhale. Then I step out, give her space. She needs this.While she soaks, I clear the chaos we left behind. Plates. Crumpled napkins. Half a pint of chocolate ice cream melting on the coffee table. The rain’s still coming down in sheets outside, thick drops racing down the windowpanes.I grab a towel, ruffle it through my hair, then toss it o
Imogene Scott I slept through the night for the first time in weeks. No jolting awake. No sweat-slicked skin. No dreams of drowning in shadows. Just silence. Stillness. Peace.My eyes open slowly, blinking into the quiet morning light spilling through the gauzy white curtains. The ocean breeze flows in from the slightly open window. My head doesn’t feel like it’s been split in two.I pull the blanket down and sit up, cradling my growing belly with both hands. The twins will be here in a few weeks. Two heartbeats fluttering beneath my skin. Two tiny souls I haven't even met, but already love with an intensity that’s terrifying and beautiful all at once.My fingers press gently into the bump. “You two are going to be okay,” I whisper. “We’re all going to be okay.”A soft smile pulls at my lips. It’s real this time. Not the kind I force at dinner tables or mirror reflections. No, this one is real.“What are you smiling about?”Damien’s voice startles me. I look up as he steps into
Damien Shaw The sun spills through the curtains as my eyes flutter open. I groan, registering the soreness in my bones. I rub at my face, letting my hand fall onto the bed beside me…It’s empty.My heart kicks up, a sudden thrum against my ribs.Imogene is not here.The sheets are still warm, faintly scented with her shampoo and her pillow’s half-squashed. She couldn’t have gone far. But still… my throat tightens as I sit up fast, pushing the blanket off. My bare feet hit the cool wood floor and I stand, eyes scanning the quiet bedroom.I don’t call out. Not yet. My gut twists like it always does when she disappears from my line of sight. I step into the hallway, and I’m immediately hit with a warm, sweet and smoky smell.Pancakes?I follow the scent into the kitchen, tension loosening slightly with each step. And then I see her.She’s standing by the stove, her back to me, swaying ever so slightly to some melody in her head. She’s barefoot, in nothing but my oversized black T-shir
Imogene Scott“Mummy, how long are you going to be gone?” Lily’s small voice floats toward me.I pause, my hand hovering over the zipper of my suitcase. The last dress is folded neatly inside and I press it down before turning to face her. She’s standing by the edge of the bed.“Mummy will be back in a few days,” I say gently, kneeling in front of her and smoothing her curls with my palm. She looks at me like she’s studying me, trying to see if I’m telling the truth or just saying what I think she wants to hear.“Will Mummy be better by then?” she asks.My breath catches.Better.I nod, brushing my thumb across her cheek.“Yes, baby. Mummy will be fine.”Lily thinks about that for a second, then smiles. “Yes, then Mummy can go. Anty Kia will take good care of me.”A soft knock sounds on the door just as I press a kiss to Lily’s forehead. Sheila steps in. “Is there anything else you want to take to the water park, Lily?” she says.Before Lily can answer, Kia walks in right behind
Imogene Scott When I open my eyes, it’s dark outside.The ceiling fan spins slowly above me. My body feels warm as I place my palm on my forehead and try to register what time it is on the wall clock across the room. But my vision’s a little blurry and I can’t make out the numbers, so I sit up instead, blinking away the sleep.I swing my legs off the bed and the cold wooden floor kisses my bare feet. I tug Damien’s hoodie tighter around me before padding to the door. I didn’t mean to sleep that long. I was just going to close my eyes for a few minutes.The hallway is dim. I make my way down slowly, hand on the banister. My joints still feel a little stiff from laying in one position for too long.When I reach the last step, I spot him.Damien’s seated at the dining table, one elbow propped up, his head resting in his palm. His hair’s tousled like he’s run his hand through it a hundred times tonight.“Hey there,” I say, softly.His head snaps up.“You’re awake?” His voice is low.
Damien Shaw I help Imogene off the examination table slowly, my hands gripping her waist. She's light and it unsettles me more than I let on. She sits up and swings her legs over the edge, her fingers resting on my forearm to steady herself."I'm okay," she says softly.She’s not. But I nod anyway. We walk out of the room together and back into the office, where Dr. Rogers is typing something into her computer. The click of the keys fills the silence.She looks up and smiles, though there's a trace of something behind her eyes. Concern, maybe. Caution."Everything looks good so far," she says. "But we’re entering the home stretch now. Just a few more weeks. You both need to be careful, especially you, Imogene."Imogene nods politely. “We will.”I thank her and reach for the door handle, ready to leave. I’m already thinking about the drive home, when Dr Rogers calls out to me. “Damien, could I speak to you for a second?”I stop and glance at Imogene.“I’ll wait in the car,” she