MasukNick'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
Gwen's POV The phone was still in Nick's hand when he shot to his feet. The blanket fell to the floor and I nearly tripped over it, but he was already pulling me by the wrist, already opening the door, already moving. I grabbed my bag. Instinct, not logic. In the hallway, I felt my heart beating somewhere it didn't belong. Like it had dropped into my stomach. "What happened?" I asked, already in the elevator, my voice breaking. Nick shook his head. "They didn't give many details," he replied, his tone that of a man trying to keep his voice steady so he wouldn't fall apart. "They just told me to come to the hospital and get Bella." The doors opened into the garage. Cold air hit my face and I almost thanked it for existing, because at least it reminded me I still had control over my legs. Nick unlocked the car, opened the door for me, and I got in with the clumsy urgency of someone who didn't want to lose a second. He slid into the driver's seat and shoved the key into
Gwen's POV They said twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I repeated that window so many times in my head it became a kind of internal clock. A clock of tension. The constant feeling that something could happen at any moment, that the timeline wasn't mine anymore. Twenty-four to forty-eight hours for the investigation to move forward after the evidence was presented. Which meant the call could come at any time. I still hadn't told Nick anything. Because there's a very specific kind of hope that, when placed in the hands of a broken man, turns into a promise. And promises are dangerous. If the plan led nowhere, we would have to go through the legal route. The formal path. Slow. Full of hearings and competing narratives. I didn't want Nick to feel like everything was resolved, only to watch reality take it away from him as easily as Renee had taken our peace. I didn't want to see his eyes light up just to go dark again days later. So I carried it alone. I tucked the weig
Gwen's POV I moved with ease. Greeted a staff member, slipped along the side of the gallery, and stepped into the coat check area where guests' bags and jackets were stored with numbered tags. I pushed open the door to a smaller room reserved for staff. The air was different. More stifling. More real. "So," I asked before the door even closed. "Did it work?" Matthew and Dante were sitting at a narrow table, like it was an improvised war meeting. Next to them, a shorter man, focused, with an open laptop and cables I didn't want to identify. Paul. I only knew two things about him. That he understood technology very well… and that his skill set didn't stop at what was permitted. Matthew looked up at me, and I saw the same exhaustion that had been following me for weeks. Only in him it always looked more contained. Like he was afraid of wasting energy on anything that wasn't useful. "We got the phone," he replied. "Paul's working on it." Paul didn't even look at me. His f
Renee's POV Friday arrived with the taste of a quiet promise. Well-dressed people. Calculated lighting. Glasses that never stayed empty. Conversations that sounded casual but were really résumés in disguise. I had received an invitation to an art exhibition in Florentia. Not one of those small events with half a dozen acquaintances and lukewarm wine. This was one of those crowded nights full of rich people and expensive drinks, held in a curated gallery that knew how to make its own name sound like a password. It was always good to go. My work had been solving my temporary money problem, but beauty and youth have an expiration date. I wasn't in the habit of betting everything on a single solution. I had plans. And yes, a rich husband was still at the top of the list. An excellent option. Because in the end, the world forgives almost anything when you're in the right place beside the right man. I went into the living room, where Bella was watching TV. "Sweetheart, Mommy's
Saturday felt like a welcome reset after everything that had blown up at the party. I still woke with the tail end of a hangover, but I was determined to enjoy my last days with Zoey and Christian before they flew back to Verdania. It felt strange knowing they'd soon be an ocean away again. Back to
My feet carried me away from the terrace before I even realized what I was doing. Away from the stunned stares and the heavy silence Alexandra had left behind like a grenade. I found a side staircase at the back of the mansion that led down to the garden. A quiet corner far from the noise and the pe
I got home at six thirty after a day that felt like it would never end. Even though I'd managed to redeem myself in the break room earlier, I was still emotionally drained. Between the leftover humiliation from the party, the weird sense of relief after swapping bad date stories, and that message I
"Want to grab lunch together today?" Gwen asked on Thursday, appearing at my desk with that determined energy I knew too well. "I need to de-stress and talk about the party before the office chaos swallows us." "Sure," I said, saving the document I was working on. "Where do you want to go?" "Tha







