LOGINRenee's POV The elevator doors were almost closed when I slipped inside with Nick. He looked like a man who had already made a decision. Jaw locked. Eyes fixed on nothing. Breathing short, like he was trying not to explode in the wrong place. He didn't even look at me. The note was still burning in my hand, crumpled from how tightly I'd been gripping it. 'I'm going back to Dad.' That piece of paper wasn't proof of anything. And yet it was the only solid thing in a situation that was slipping out of my control. The elevator descended, and the silence inside that metal box felt like a verdict. I broke first. "When you go file that… report," I said, choosing the word like I was offering something reasonable, "don't put my name on it." Nick let out a short, humorless laugh. "Excuse me?" "You heard me." I kept my tone low, practical. "Say she was with you. Say you… whatever." He finally turned his head. The look in his eyes was the kind men like Nick use when the
Nick's POV "As far as I know, she was supposed to be with you." I didn't raise my voice. Not because I was calm. Yelling at Renee is like throwing gasoline on a fire. Better not, when I can help it. "Don't play games with me," Renee shot back, her face flushed with anger. "I know you took her." I blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?" Renee yanked open her purse. For a second, I thought she was about to pull out her phone and start recording me, setting up some performance I didn't understand yet. Instead, she pulled out a folded piece of paper. She waved it in my face like it was a warrant. "'I'm going back to Dad.'" She read it aloud, exaggerating every word, spitting out each syllable. "This. This was in her room. Do you think I'm an idiot?" The handwriting was childish. I recognized the way Bella made her "p" with the leg too long. I even recognized the extra little dot she liked to add when she decorated her sentences. I took a slow breath. "I don
Nick's POV I drove without rushing. No bravado. No automatic confidence of someone who knows the city with his eyes closed. Because after all these months, I could say I knew Florentia. I knew the streets, the shortcuts, the fastest way around traffic. But that day, I knew something else. Gwen's fear. Fresh out of hiding. Still warm. She sat quietly in the passenger seat, both hands resting in her lap, fingers laced together like holding onto herself was the most discreet way to stay whole. She had cried during the exam. So had I. The sound of the heartbeat had filled the room, and for a few minutes I'd believed it was enough to silence the past. It wasn't. I could see it in the tension in her jaw. In the way she stared out the window without actually seeing anything. Part of her was still on that road from years ago, and I wanted to rip that road off the map. "Nick," she said finally. The way she said my name told me she was about to try to take control of the universe
Gwen's POV The hospital wristband felt too light for the weight I was carrying. My name printed in black ink reduced my entire life to one clean line. As if the hardest thing in the world were just a well-entered record. I pressed the folder to my chest, checked the time on my phone for the third time, and, out of habit, organized everything I needed to say. Weeks. Symptoms. Questions. Follow-up tests. I could do this. I always could. If I kept everything perfectly organized, I wouldn't feel anything beyond what was necessary. Lie. What I felt was a constant hum in my chest. Like an engine running in neutral. Nick walked beside me with enough calm for both of us. His hand found mine when he noticed I was gripping the folder too tightly. "We're early," he said, like time was something gentle. "I plan to be early," I replied. He let out a soft laugh. "Of course you do." The receptionist asked for our documents, and I answered automatically. Names. Dates. Numbe
Gwen's POV It was just a Tuesday. I had a folder with my test results, a bottle of water in my bag, and the practical certainty that if I kept everything organized, the rest would fall into place. Nick appeared in the bedroom doorway with the car keys in his hand and the look of a man who'd already rehearsed the route three times in his head. "Thirty minutes," he said, checking his watch. "If we leave now, we'll get there early." I nodded like that made us invincible. I was ready. Black knit dress that didn't press against my stomach and didn't scream pregnant. Comfortable sneakers. Hair pulled back. Minimal makeup so no one would ask if I was okay. The garage was exactly the same. Apparently, I wasn't. Because I saw the car and… stopped. It wasn't a decision. It wasn't even a thought. It was like someone pulled a handbrake inside me. "Gwen?" Nick said my name carefully. I blinked. The feeling was ridiculous. I just… couldn't move forward. "Sorry," I said auto
Renee's POV Two months was long enough to learn where the sun hit the living room at the end of the afternoon. Which toys were too loud. Which ones made too much of a mess. Which cartoons Bella watched when she was tired and which ones she watched when she was pretending not to be. Two months was long enough for me to memorize her routine. And still not long enough to get what I wanted. I paced through the living room with my phone to my ear, stepping carefully so I wouldn't scatter the game pieces Bella had spread across the rug. She was sitting cross-legged, focused, whispering to her dolls like the whole world fit inside that tiny scene. For her, maybe it did. For me, the world fit into numbers. "This is ridiculous," I said into the phone, keeping my voice controlled. The living room door was open, and the neighbor next door had inconveniently sharp hearing. "I've had my daughter for two months and I'm still receiving… that pathetic amount." On the other end, my lawy
"Alex," I said, my tone sharper now, stripped of any softness. "You're a traitor and a fool, that's true. But at least you're not a criminal. You still have a chance to walk away from this before you get dragged down with her. Because when all of this comes to light, you don't want your name anywher
The St. Lucas Hospital at noon was bustling, but the tension in the air was impossible to ignore. After a private jet flight through the night, we were all gathered in the VIP waiting room of the cardiac surgery wing—Christian, Marcus, Isabelle, Lawrence, and me. The room was small and private, yet
Christian's POV Our conversation was cut short when the door burst open and Zoey's entire family flooded into the room in a whirlwind of emotion. Robert and Regina came first, followed by Annie, Matthew, and Joseph, all of them talking at once, tears streaming, smiles trembling. Dr. Porter had m
Joseph's reaction to the news that he was going to be a great-grandfather was everything I could've hoped for—and then some. For a few long seconds, he didn't move at all, as if his mind needed time to catch up with the words Christian had just spoken. Then his eyes filled with tears, and a radian







