LOGINThe harsh sunlight of the morning must have been the reason I woke. The first thing I noticed was that the bedroom I was in was unfamiliar, the bedroom was quite spacious and well furnished.
My head pounded and I barely could remember what happened from the night before and wait why was I in a strange bed and a strange house. Why was I here? Where is Jas……
I choked down a sob, the memory came flooding back and suddenly the tears I was trying so hard to hold came flooding out. I didn’t deserve, I never even wanted to be married in the first place. I did and I fell in love with a man who played me and even go ahead to be cheating on me with my best friend.
I must have sobbed for maybe a full twenty minutes before I realized that Jason wasn’t worth crying for. Maybe it was also my fault, if only I was only to give him kids.
“You done?” came that vaguely familiar voice and I whirled around to find that man from yesterday staring at me. His presence suddenly made the room feel like it was closing on me, his frame alone filled the door.
“You” I frowned when I remembered what he did yesterday. “You drugged me, made me go to sleep” I said with a scowl and he shrugged.
“You were a fucking mess, had to put you to sleep, you were raving on about some “Jason” in your sleep too” he said and I turned away.
Shit
“I don’t know who that is” I lied and his green eyes suddenly bore into mine like he could see clearly see that I was lying. It took all my willpower not to look away, and I would have did if not that the green in his eyes looked so mesmerizing, as if it was pulling me in—holding me in some kind of trance.
“Is he the reason you’re crying?” He asked and I stared at him in surprise. How perceptive can he be?
“No” I stuttered and he cocked his head to the side, he leaned into the door frame.
“That doesn’t sound convincing” he said and I glared at him already disliking the persistent.
“You’re Fucking persistent. I don’t need to be…….”
“You curse?” He interrupted and I stopped, he walked over till he was standing in front of me, he towered over me making me tilt my head.
“Who doesn’t?” I countered and he smiled or just the barest hint of one.
“Fair point” he said. His eyes skimmed over my face in concern. “You should get a bath”
“Why?” I said suspiciously and he shrugged.
“You reek” he said simply and leaned in “Of alcohol” he whispered in my ear and I shivered. I took a step back, afraid of my own body reactions to a mere whisper. I stared at the huge glass windows and nodded.
“Thank you…..for Uhh last night” I said to him and he nodded, he pivoted on his heel and walked away. I let out the pent up breath I had been holding up. I don’t know, but standing so close to him made my head dizzy like I was high on something and I blushed.
I didn’t spend long in the shower because of how self conscious and weird I was feeling, when I came back to the bedroom a new set of clothes were laid out on the bed for me. I picked them up and I gasped, it was my favorite gown, how did he…….
Nevermind.
I must have mumbled it all in my drunken sleep, I headed to the sound of clanging in the kitchen and stopped at the doorway when I saw him.
He was shirtless and I stood there frozen; not in shock but in hypnosis, Jason was hot but seeing this man in front of me made all my hairs stand on end, I could barely breathe I didn’t even notice my ragged breathing, the sign of my effort to act normal.
“You’re done” he announced, watching me and my head snapped up to his.
“Yeah, yeah. I was hungry and I heard someone in the kitchen I decided to check” I blurted out and he nodded. He handed me a cup of coffee and I downed it in one gulp, he grinned at that.
“Hungry much?” He asked and I sighed dramatically.
“Starving”
“I can see that” he tossed me toast and I wolfed it down and he laughed, the sound was so endearing that I started at him in surprise.
“You eat like a cow” he said and I nodded, not paying heed to his remarks instead concentrating on finishing my food.
“I know” I said after I shoved down the last of the toast. He studied me and leaned forward.
“Who’s Jason?” He asked and I stopped, annoyance brewing in my gut.
“It’s none of your business” I retorted and he nodded, he leaned forward and took a lock of my hair playing with it and my heart beat faster.
“You’re stubborn” he said and I stared at his lips, fighting the urge to lick mine.
“I am?”
“I think you know” he answered and I looked down, avoiding his eyes.
“Your name?” I blurted out, desperate to say something and he grinned.
“Call me Four”
“Four” I chuckled, “Is that……..”
Suddenly my stomach lurched and I ran to the toilet, and opened the lid and retched into the bowl, throwing up the content of what I just ate. I gasped as I wiped my mouth and stared at the mirror.
Why did I look pale?
For some reason I fished out the pregnancy tester from my blouse pocket and I tried it.
My eyes widened,
I am pregnant.
Four's POVThe café smelled like burnt coffee and regret. I sat by the window, watching strangers pass, wondering if any of them carried secrets as heavy as mine. My phone buzzed. She was here.Elena walked in and I recognised her immediately. Not from resemblance but from the way she moved. Guarded. Careful. Like she expected the world to hurt her and had learned to hurt it first. She was thirty-five, dressed in a sharp blazer that screamed lawyer, her dark hair pulled back tight. But it was her eyes that stopped me. Cold grey eyes. My father's eyes.She sat down without greeting me. No handshake. No smile. Just assessment."You look different from what I expected," she said."So do you."She ordered black coffee. I already had mine, though I had not touched it. The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken histories and shared damage.
Four's POVI decided 3 am while Veronica slept beside me. The message on my phone had shaken me but it also clarified something. Running from my father's legacy had not protected me. Silence had not healed me. Maybe the only way forward was through the truth.I called Sarah at a reasonable hour the next morning. "I will do the interview. About my father. About everything.""Are you sure?""No. But I am doing it anyway."She scheduled the filming for three days later. Gave me time to prepare. To talk with Dr Morrison about what this might bring up. To warn Veronica that I might fall apart on camera."Then fall apart," Veronica said. "Let people see that healing is messy. That strength does not mean never breaking."The day of the interview I was terrified. Sweating through my shirt before we even started. Sarah
Four's POVI watched Veronica turn Sarah's business card over in her hands for three days straight. She carried it everywhere. Kitchen counter. Bedroom nightstand. Coffee table. The decision haunted her and I understood why. This was not just about her anymore. This was about all of us.We talked about it late at night when Monte was asleep. Veronica curled against my chest while I ran my fingers through her hair. The bedroom was dark except for the streetlight filtering through the curtains. Safe. Quiet. Our sanctuary."What are you thinking?" I asked."That I want to do it. That terrifies me. I do not know if wanting something and being ready for it are the same thing.""They are not always the same. But sometimes you have to jump before you feel ready.""Is that what you did? When you came to find me?""Yes. I was not ready to face you. To confront everything I had done wrong. But I jumped anyway because the alternative was losing you forever."She was quiet for a moment. "The docu
Veronica's POVFour's suspicion about the invitation lingered in my mind like smoke. I could not shake it. That night I called Dr Morrison. Then my parents. Then Margaret. We needed to talk through this together because the decision affected everyone.We gathered in the living room the next evening. Monte was asleep upstairs. Margaret made tea nobody drank it. My parents sat on the couch looking concerned. Four paced by the window. Dr Morrison joined us via video call on Four's laptop."Tell me about the invitation," Dr Morrison said.I read it aloud. Every word. Every detail. When I finished the room was silent.Four spoke first. "My instinct is to say no. We fought for privacy. For safety. For the right to live without eyes on us constantly. This throws all of that away.""But it could help people," I said. "Women trapped like I was. Women who think there is no way out. If my story gives even one of them hope is that not worth it?""Not if it puts Monte at risk.""How does it put Mo
Veronica's POVFour came home from Colombia broken. Not physically. The bruises and cuts healed within days. But something inside him had shattered and I watched the pieces fall every time he closed his eyes. He barely spoke for the first three days. Just held Monte. Stared at the walls. Startled at sudden sounds.I did not push. I had learned through my own healing that trauma needed space before it needed words. So I stayed close. Cooked his favourite meals. Let him know through touch and presence that he was safe. That he was home. Whatever happened in Colombia stayed in Colombia unless he chose to bring it into our lives.Manuel visited on the fourth day. He sat with Four in the backyard while I watched from the kitchen window. I could not hear their conversation but I saw Four's shoulders shake. Saw him put his head in his hands. Saw Manuel grip his shoulder like a brother.When Manuel left he stopped in the kitchen. "He will be okay. It takes time. What he did was impossible and
Manuel's POVThe wall exploded inward and three cartel sicarios burst through the adjacent room into the panic room where Yates stood. Time fractured into slow motion. Gunfire. Screaming. Blood spraying across white walls. Javier returned fire. I pulled Four behind a concrete pillar. Yates dove to the floor.The sicarios were professionals. Military trained. They moved with precision and fired with accuracy that came from years of killing. One of Yates' guards fell beside me. Half his face is gone. I forced myself not to look at what remained."We need him alive," I shouted to Four over the chaos. "The cartel wants him breathing long enough to access his accounts.""How do we get to him?""We do not fight them. We work with them."I stood with my hands raised. Spoke in Spanish. "We are not your enemy. We want the same thing. Yates and his accounts. We can help you get both."The lead sicario lowered his weapon slightly. Suspicious but listening. "Who are you?""Manuel Torres. Private
Veronica’s POV. For a second, I thought my mind had fractured.That the stress, the flashes, the question, the fear– all of it– had finally pushed me.into hallucinating the one man I never wanted to see again standing in my office doorway.Before me was the one and only Jason Harper.My freaking e
Veronica's POV The first article went live before noon.I knew because my phone vibrated once and then twice until it wouldn't stop.I ignored it at first, choosing instead to focus on the fabric samples I had ordered, spread across my desk.I picked ivory silk, muted blush satin, a deep emerald c
Veronica's POV. Four actually listened.And when he did, the bond between us felt strained and lost but I managed well without him.I pushed past the early morning silence that brought depressing loneliness with it, the quiet guilt that pinched at my stomach and the doubt that swallowed me after I
Veronica's POV. I woke up to silence.Not the comforting kind — not one of those.I woke up to the kind that released my eyes and ears until I noticed it. The room smelled faintly of an antiseptic and something woody beneath it, like a slap had been rinsed off me too quickly.My eyes fluttered op







