LOGINGwen's POV I learned that routine isn't the absence of emotion. It's emotion, tamed. Put to work quietly, without making a scene. While Nick went back to dealing with his problems, I took Bella—and within two minutes, we were already heading to the car. She claimed the backseat like she owned it. Dropped her backpack onto her lap, glanced out the window, then studied me through the rearview mirror. "Mom," she called, in the same tone she'd use to ask the time. "Hmm?" "When is my baby sister going to be born?" I let out a breath that was half laugh, half surrender. "What's the rush?" "Because your belly is already huge," she said, pointing with zero delicacy. Then she added, like it was a compliment, "Like… really huge." "Wow. Thank you for the kindness," I replied, feigning offense. Bella burst out laughing. "It's true." "It is true," I admitted. "Not much longer now. Soon enough, you'll get to meet her." Her eyes lit up. "I told Julia," she said, like s
Nick's POV The Valement Estate had a sound. Not just one clear, recognizable noise you could identify with your eyes closed. It was a blend of smaller sounds that came together and turned into a rhythm. The gate creaking open at dawn. Tires crunching over gravel. Quick footsteps echoing down the service hallway. The soft clink of dishes in the kitchen. The coffee machine running nonstop. Wood groaning under footsteps that no longer tried to be careful, because this place had stopped being a project and become a home. And it had a scent. Strong coffee. Warm bread. Ripe grapes that lingered in the air even out of season. The clean smell of freshly pressed laundry drifting from somewhere. That standard hotel soap Martina had approved with all the seriousness of a board meeting. As I crossed the courtyard, I could still catch the faint scent of cold stone beneath it all. A reminder that these walls had history. By the time I walked into the kitchen, the routine was already in mot
Gwen's POV On Monday afternoon, I returned to Kensington like someone reclaiming a piece of herself. I walked through the building entrance with the same posture I had always carried. But there was one essential difference now. I wasn't trying to prove anything anymore. For weeks, I had lived with the feeling that my name was being used as a weapon by people who had never actually known me. And the cruelest part of that was simple. Lies always had more space than normal life. Headlines loved "kidnapping stepmother." Clicks loved "scandal." Comments loved the version that was easiest to hate. But what I had now was the one thing the internet could never steal. Those who knew me, knew. And they did. They truly did. Christian had handled the board exactly the way I knew he would. With facts so clear they left no room for malicious interpretation. He laid everything out on the table. Literally. And when he finished, the idea that it had all been a setup was so obv
Nick's POV The four of us got into the car almost at the same time. Bella dove into the back seat, sliding across it like it was the couch at home. Her small backpack in her lap. Hair still rumpled from the morning. The unfiltered excitement of someone who doesn't store anxiety in her body. "Seatbelt," Martina warned automatically, before she had even sat down. "I know, Grandma," Bella replied, clicking it in with a dramatic sigh, just to perform that she was being forced. Gwen closed the passenger door carefully and settled in slowly, her hand going to her belly in an instinctive gesture. I got into the driver's seat, put the key in, and for a second just stared ahead, feeling the good weight of having everyone there. I started the engine. It turned over and something inside me did too. Gwen glanced at the back seat. Bella had already stretched her legs out and was swinging her feet in the air. Then she looked at me with a smile that was too innocent for the woman she
Nick's POV The days passed. Then the weeks. At first, I measured time by fear. By the phone that could ring again. A legal notification. A headline. A car parked too long in front of the building. The feeling that life was only on loan. Then, without me noticing exactly when it happened, I started measuring time by other things. By the hour Bella woke up and went straight to the kitchen, barefoot, hair sticking up. By the routine Martina built like someone rebuilding a house with her own hands. By the way Gwen began organizing the small details of our daily life. And by the sound of my daughter's laughter returning without fear. Custody had started out as temporary. An emergency measure. A provisional residence. Words that sound neutral on paper and, in real life, mean hold your daughter tight, but don't trust it yet. But temporary, with Bella, was never temporary. She had no trouble adapting to life with us again. I did. Because I kept waiting for the moment sh
Nick's POV The receptionist looked at the screen, then at me, and I saw that split second of assessment everyone makes when the urgency isn't their own. "One moment, sir," she said. I felt Gwen's hand in mine, firm, like she was keeping me grounded. I didn't look at her. If I did, I'd break in a way I couldn't afford to. The receptionist motioned to a nurse in the hallway. The nurse came quickly. "I'll take you to her," she said. I didn't ask where. I just went. The corridor felt too long. Every door we passed was a reminder that life inside those walls could change in seconds. I tried to keep breathing. The nurse stopped in front of a door. Checked a clipboard. "She's in here." I opened it before she could finish. And for a moment, everything I'd been holding inside me hit the floor. Bella was sitting on the bed with a tray in her lap and a small cup of gelatin trembling under the white light. A nurse stood beside her, watching with the calm of someone who ha
Madeline's POV The morning was cold and gray when I heard the sound of a car pulling up in front of our building. I looked out the window and spotted a black Land Rover parked downstairs. Christian had arrived to pick us up. "They're here," I told Marcus, who was finishing zipping up his suitcas
Vivian's POV The heat of Belmonte hit me like a slap the moment I stepped out of the airport. After days in the chill of the Valentian mountains, the Verdanian humidity felt almost suffocating. I dragged my scuffed rolling suitcase through the terminal, scanning for the driver Dominic had promised
Marcus' POV "Madeline?" I murmured, seeing her standing in the doorway like she was about to come in just as I was about to leave. Her eyes were red, clearly betraying that she'd been crying. Her hair was slightly messy, like she'd run her hands through it over and over. And her expression—she l
Madeline's POV He groaned in approval, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through my own body. Then, with one smooth, decisive roll of his hips, he sank into me completely, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. A muffled cry slipped from my lips, a mix of relief and pure ecstasy. The sensat







