Se connecterNicholas' POV Seeing the destruction in person was nothing like seeing it in photos on my phone. I drove the familiar road to Montelira with a growing knot of dread in my stomach. But nothing prepared me for turning into the property and seeing my house like that. The east wing was unrecognizable. The exterior walls were blackened with thick soot. The windows were completely blown out, jagged holes where glass used to be. A large section of the roof had collapsed, charred wooden beams exposed to the open sky like broken ribs. The smell still hung in the air. Old smoke. Burned wood. Something chemical and suffocating that clung to the back of my throat. I parked in front of the house and sat there for a few minutes, just staring. My home. The house where I grew up. Where Bella was growing up. Where generations of my family had lived. Destroyed. Eventually, I stepped out of the car and walked slowly toward the yellow caution tape surrounding the worst of the damage.
Gwen's POV Waking up for real was different from just opening my eyes. The first few days were hazy. Fragmented. Consciousness coming and going in uneven waves. I remember voices. Blurred faces. Pain that seemed to radiate from everywhere at once. I remember Nick holding my hand. Christian telling me to stay calm. Doctors asking questions I couldn't fully process. But now, five days after I first woke up, I was finally clear. I was still weak and in pain, but present and aware. I understood where I was and why. Private hospital. Private room. Car accident. The pieces had come together slowly. Christian and Zoey were sitting in the chairs beside my bed when I opened my eyes that Tuesday morning. "Good morning, sleepyhead," Zoey said with a soft smile. "How are you feeling today?" "Like I flipped a car," I replied, my voice still hoarse and thin. "Oh wait. That's exactly what happened." Christian gave a faint smile. "Your sense of humor's back. That's a good sig
Nicholas' POV Signing the documents was shockingly easy.Because the decision behind them was simple and clear. I needed help at the estate. Not surface-level help. Not temporary solutions. Real help. Structured. Professional. Competent. The kind of help Kensington Group could provide. Christian didn't waste a second. The moment I signed the last page, he was already on the phone, making sharp, efficient calls to the right people. Insurance? Handled. He personally knew the regional director. Police investigation? The Kensington corporate attorney was assigned immediately to deal with the bureaucracy and monitor everything closely. Reconstruction of the house? A trusted architect and contractor were already on their way to Montelira to assess the structural damage and begin restoration planning. All of that while I was still staring at the pixelated photos Paula had sent me. Photos that made me physically sick. The east wing of the main house completely burned. Blacke
Nicholas' POV "The waking process is gradual," the doctor explained, gesturing calmly with his hands. "We'll reduce the sedative medication progressively over the next twelve to twenty-four hours. It's not like waking from normal sleep. It's more like… slowly surfacing." He looked at each of us to make sure we were following. "She may show small signs at first. Involuntary finger movement. Reflexes returning. Breathing becoming less dependent on the ventilator. Eventually, attempts to open her eyes." "How long until she's fully awake?" Zoey asked, gripping Christian's hand tightly. "It's impossible to say exactly," the doctor admitted. "It could be hours. It could take days. Every patient responds differently. What matters is that all her vital signs are stable and strong. Her brain activity is responding well. There's no indication of permanent neurological damage in the most recent scans." Christian let out a long breath that seemed to carry days of tension. "So she's g
Nicholas' POV Forty-eight hours turned into seventy-two before I even realized time was passing. Everything blurred into a routine of hospital visits, the apartment, bad coffee, and medical updates that never said anything definitive. "Stable." "Responding well." "No significant changes." On the second day, Paula showed up at the hospital carrying a large suitcase. "I brought clean clothes," she said, pulling me into a tight hug. "And some toiletries. I figured you'd need them." Gratitude closed my throat. "Thank you," I managed. "You didn't have to come all the way here." "Of course I did," she replied simply. "How is she?" "Stable," I repeated, the word losing meaning every time I said it. "Still in a coma. We'll know more when they wake her." Paula only stayed a few hours. She had to get back to the estate. But her presence, even brief, reminded me that life was still happening outside those hospital walls. I called my mom that night. She asked when I was c
Nicholas's POV Spending the night alone in Gwen's apartment was one of the strangest experiences of my life. I tried to make myself as invisible as possible, even though there was no one there to see me. I didn't want to leave traces. Didn't want to disturb anything. Didn't want it to look like someone had invaded her space. I took a quick shower in the massive marble bathroom, using the bare minimum and putting everything back exactly where I found it. I made something simple for dinner with what I found in her perfectly organized pantry. Pasta. Jarred tomato sauce. A little grated cheese. Afterward, I washed every dish carefully and returned each item to its precise spot. I slept in the guest room, not hers. That felt like too much of an intrusion. Even so, it took me hours to fall asleep. The bed was too comfortable. The silence too deep. Her absence too loud. Eventually, exhaustion won. The next morning, I woke before sunrise. The sky was still dark when I got u
The formal dinner was served in the banquet hall, where the long oak table was set for thirty guests. Those present were a mix of Kensington relatives, key investors, and figures from the local wine industry. I was seated between Christian and a famous oenologist whose name I immediately forgot, whi
The two men stared at each other in a silence that seemed to stretch endlessly. I realized then that I was holding my breath, my fingers gripping the banister with unnecessary force. Finally, a slow, calculated smile spread across Anthony's face. "Crystal clear." He stepped back half a pace, con
The moon spilled its silver light over the vineyards as Christian pulled me into his arms with an urgency that mirrored my own desire. There were no words, only the sound of our ragged breaths as he gently laid me down between the rows of vines that now bore my name. The soft earth beneath my back
The sound of the shower drifted from the bathroom as I stared up at the ornate ceiling of the bedroom. Christian had said he was going to take a long shower before bed. Something about "needing to think" after our night under the stars. Our conversation about children and the future still unsettle







