Rominic refreshed the page over and over again, still not believing his eyes. He thought that seeing her name was the biggest confusion but while the cars drove to the hospital, he continued to investigate and he saw that the money was paid for the treatment of three children. What was getting him more confused was the names of the children. It couldn't be just a coincidence. It took his mind back to the conversation he had with Lavender on what he'd like to name his children.
<Flashback>
It was a Sunday night, he lay on his bed, one hand supporting the back of his head and the other placed over his forehead. He stared at the light, his mind calculating and trying to figure out what was stopping the new machine he was working on. He couldn't come up with anything, not even after two hours of just laying there and thinking.
"Are you still thinking?" Her voice broke through the silent room. He ignored her, which was followed by a laugh, her annoying but yet amusing laugh. She flung herself on the bed, making him bounce a bit, but it didn't distract his calculation.
She laid on her stomach and hovered her head over his, making her cinnamon brown hair stream down in a curtain to block his view of the lights. She giggled when he groaned and gently placed her palms on his cheeks. "You worry too much, Beau, give yourself a break,"
"I can't give myself a break, not when it earns me money," he huffed, bringing his hand up to push her face away from his.
"If you don't overthink for three days, you won't go poor overnight. Stop worrying yourself too much, Beau," she laughed, pushing his hand away. "You are rich already, and don't you think because you are stressing your brain it's trying to frustrate you as revenge? You calculate in your sleep,"
"No, I don't," he replied sharply.
"Really?" She asked, tilting her head in a way his lips brushed over her nose. She was lying upside-down after all. She lifted her head higher so he could see her roll her eyes. "You speak binary in your sleep and when you are not speaking to the god of numbers, you are counting money. Even when you snore, you snore out money,"
"No, I don't,"
She copied a snoring sound and murmured "Money, money, money, money". He chuckled. She squealed and jumped to sit on her legs, clapping like a child. "I did it! I did it! I made you chuckle!"
"Okay, you don't see me giving you an award, do you?" He said, forcing himself to sneer. He thought she was cute when overly and unnecessarily excited.
"You'll give me either way," she said certainly, plopping herself back on the bed. She returned her head to his with a toothy grin. "Let's get your mind off thinking for a while, shall we?"
"Good luck with that,"
"Talk to me about your future, how many children do you want?"
"Forty," he blurted out without hesitation.
"Forty! Rominic!!!" He curled his legs up and laughed, making her pout in annoyance. She didn't want many kids, he knew that about her. "I'll imagine you meant four… No, three. Now, what would you name your three children?"
"I want four, equal gender. I've always imagined having the boys first before the girls. The boys would be Zachary, Zyaire, Zander, or Zayne…"
"Zyaire? You like that weird name?" She asked with a condescending tone.
"What's so weird about the name?"
"Try everything, it sounds like a girl's name,"
"So? Sounds pretty to me and I like it even more than I like Zander. You asked me what I want and I've told you, don't argue,"
"Okay, okay," she laughed, "proceed," she said playfully.
"Thank you! Okay, so the boys' first names will all start with Z, and their middle names would start with S, Samir, Skyler, Seth, or Shawn…"
"Samir? Isn't that…" he growled warningly, "shutting up, right,"
"The girls will be Seraline, Savia, or Serenity, I like those two last ones better. The first daughter's middle name would be Zelmira or Zelma, and the second, Zuma or Zillah," he explained with excitement. "Makes sense, doesn't it?"
"So much sense I'm seeing you receiving an Oscar," she said sarcastically. He stretched his hand out and pinched her soft cheek. She giggled. "You know I don't really care what I name the children, as long as I can identify them with something. I can even call them Sage, Storm, Dick, Poppy or even Rice,"
"Name my son Dick and I'll kill you with mine,"
"Like you don't already do, you unsatisfied beast,"
A smirk played on his lips. "Challenge accepted," Her eyes widened with playful horror. She jumped away from him.
"I was joking, I was joking!" He stood up on his knees, still maintaining his smirk. "Beau, kidding, I was kidding…" she screamed as he lunged forward to tickle her. She tried to run out of the bed but he pinned her down before she got a chance to run off. "Beau, come on, cut it out," she laughed, "no tickles, no tickles!"
"What's the magic word?"
"I am never saying it! Ever!"
"Say it, say it," he singsonged, turning his fingers to her stomach. She squealed, wiggling like a worm. The way she was moving reminded him of… "Yes! Yes! I've got it! I've got it! I know what might be missing!"
"Huh?" She laughed.
"Thank you, baby, you did it, you helped me figure it out," he grabbed her face and kissed her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, and her lips. "Thank you!" He flew out of the bed, screaming in jubilation. Knowing fully well that she was as clueless as a baby.
<End if flashback>
"Sir…" someone was playing a huge prank on him. People don't just spring up from the dead after dying for almost a decade. Miracles like that don't happen to people like him.
"Sir…" what if it was real? How would he face her? If it was real then she must have faked her death to get rid of him. How would she feel if he returned to the happy life she had created for herself? What will she do? What would be her reaction? He knew she hated him. She despised him enough to erase her existence.
"Sir…" different thoughts ran through his head, different playback of the day it all fell apart. Lavender never came to his office and when she did, she never came unannounced and that was why he didn't expect to see her. Maybe she was coming to show him the pregnancy result, just maybe. But he couldn't be sure, how was he already concluding that she was alive? She might not be sure.
"Sir!" Still, he pictured the scenario of the pain, the loneliness, and the amount of time she went in and out of the hospital without him or anyone to assist her. He thought about how she was able to push out the baby or babies, or maybe she underwent an operation. And during those painful months, her hatred for him must have grown stronger, he thought.
"Oh my goodness, sir!!!" Thirdly, she raised them herself. She clothed them, fed them, provided everything for them, and still managed to work so they would live. What right did he have to walk back into her life after he ruined it? How would he face her after that? How would he face them after all these years?
"Rominic fucking Verlice!!! Snap the fuck out of it!!!!" Stacy screaming right into his ear made him jump with a little yelp. He hit the door and almost bashed his head on the window. He looked at her disoriented. She angrily adjusted her glasses, glaring daggers at him. It took him a few seconds to calm down.
"Mr. Verlice, sir," she said angrily, "I've been calling you. I've called the hospital and informed them of your unscheduled arrival. Is there any request you'd like me to put in?" Rominic rubbed his forehead, realizing how stupid he was. He was doing it again, creating impossible scenarios in his head. Lavender was dead and even if she wasn't, it didn't mean he was a father overnight. "Sir, please pay attention to me," Stacy cried, frustrated to her limit.
"Sorry. Please tell the director or whoever is in charge to find a certain Jamila Oslo and her children or the children she came with and keep her there. Don't let her leave," Stacy was too upset to care, so she nodded and returned her teary gaze to her phone.
Twenty-three minutes later, they arrived at the hospital. The doctor present ushered them to the VIP waiting room where they moved Lavender. Rominic's heart beat faster in his chest as they got closer. He was visibly sweating and Stacy was getting worried that he might be near his limit again.
Lavender had her head down and face buried in her palms. She already knew what was happening and she wasn't pleased. The angry drumming of her heart made her dizzy. Even so, she was relieved that all her problems were solved instantly. She almost fainted when she saw the money in the private account. She didn't remember it being that much. She was almost tempted to withdraw everything but cautioned herself and withdrew almost all her original savings. What she didn't understand was why the money had increased and why he didn't make any changes to the account. He expected him to have given the account to his lover. The reason she logged in wasn't to get money but for him to receive the alert of a successful or unsuccessful login. She didn't expect everything to go smoothly and didn't expect to see so much money either.
She raised her head when the door opened. The moment she laid her eyes on him, her heart stopped working. He looked at her and from the confusion in his eyes, she could tell he didn't recognize her. She remembered she hadn't washed the hair dye off so gritted her teeth and glared at him. "Rominic,"
Rominic's world stopped moving. He could recognize that voice anywhere. It was her, his wife was alive.
Lavender say in front of the vanity she had placed next to the window, watching the soft glow of morning light stretch across the horizon. The city, once a battlefield of deception and danger, now breathed in quiet serenity. The past year had been a slow unraveling—one thread at a time—of pain, guilt, and the suffocating memories Peyton had left behind.She exhaled, pressing her fingertips to the cool glass, tracing invisible lines as if drawing out the thoughts that refused to settle. Even now, she found it hard to believe it was over. Peyton was truly gone.Some nights, when the silence became too loud, she still imagined hearing that familiar voice—whispering in the dark, taunting her with the possibility of another cruel trick. For the first five months after Peyton's confirmed death, sleep had been a foreign concept. She had tried closing her eyes, willing herself into rest, but every time, panic clawed at her throat. The paranoia had been unbearable—always waiting, always expect
The color drained from her face. Her chair scraped against the wooden floor as she jolted to her feet. "Shit." The curse barely escaped her lips before she reached for the gun hidden at her waist, but Lavender was faster.A flick of her wrist. A barely visible glint of silver.Pain exploded through Giovanna’s hand as something sharp embedded itself into her wrist. She screamed, the gun slipping from her grasp and clattering to the floor.Lavender was on her in an instant. She surged forward, pulling out her own firearm and stepping down hard on Giovanna’s fallen weapon, keeping it out of reach. The weight of her shoe against the cold metal was final, unwavering.Giovanna froze as something much colder pressed against her temple—the barrel of a gun.Her body went rigid. Her mind raced. She had underestimated Lavender, had stayed alone in this room like a fool, thinking she had control. But it was fine. It had to be fine.Her guards were right in the next room.Any second now, they would
Lavender pulled up to the farmhouse, her car rolling to a stop in front of the small, unassuming structure. The address had led her here—a lonely farm tucked away in an open plain, the kind of place where screams would be swallowed by the wind and a body could be disposed of without a trace. How convenient. How utterly unsightly.She exhaled softly, slipping the key card back into the pocket of her coat. Her eyes swept over the land, taking in the neglected fields, the weathered fences barely holding together. No doubt, the original owners had been struggling—probably desperate enough to sell it off without questioning who was buying. A fleeting thought crossed her mind: purchasing this place herself, restoring it, turning it into something profitable.She shook that thought away and strode toward the house, her shoes crunching against dry earth. There was no hesitation in her steps, no pause at the door to knock or ring the bell. Instead, she gripped the doorknob, twisted it, and step
The clock ticked in slow, measured beats, each second stretching, elongating, suffocating. The rhythmic beeping of the cardiac monitor filled the room, a relentless reminder of the fragile life tethered to its machines. The air was thick, sterile, laced with the sharp scent of antiseptic that did nothing to mask the underlying bitterness of despair. The fluorescent lights cast a cold, artificial glow over the large hospital ward, highlighting the stark contrast between the warmth of the floral-printed bedding and the icy stillness of the girl lying upon it.Serenity remained motionless, her small body pale, her chest rising and falling only by the will of the ventilator. Tubes snaked around her, connecting her to a maze of medical equipment that hummed softly, keeping her alive. She should have been running, laughing, causing the kind of mischief that only she could—but instead, she was trapped in a prison of unconsciousness, a mere shell of the vibrant child she had been days ago.Lav
The sky was a perfect shade of blue, a vast canvas unmarred by even a single cloud. The sun shone brightly, its warmth brushing against my skin, and the faint scent of chlorine and freshly cut grass wafted through the air. Despite the lively scene around me, I found myself staring up at the sky, smiling faintly. It wasn't because I felt at peace—I wasn't. Inside, I was a tangled mess of emotions, but I smiled anyway, if only to keep myself together.I sighed heavily, the weight in my chest pressing harder as my mind drifted to the scandalous headlines that had erupted online just days ago. The rumors of an affair between Apollo and me had spread like wildfire, and the storm they caused had been brutal. Thankfully, Apollo going public about his love for Rominic had turned the tide in our favor. Watching Rominic and Phineas look as if they'd turned to stone when they found out had been oddly satisfying. That, combined with the widely known fact that Apollo and I used to hate each other's
Lavender stood in the dimly lit living room, her nerves fraying with every passing second. The soft glow of the overhead light bathed the space in warm hues, but it did little to soothe the tension crackling in the air. Rominic was pacing, his creamy blonde hair disheveled, winter-gray eyes stormy as they pinned her in place. He wasn't speaking yet, but his silence was worse than yelling. It was the kind of silence that suffocated, pressing down on her chest like an unseen weight.She laughed nervously, the sound brittle as it broke the stillness. "It's not what you're thinking," she said, her voice softer than she intended. "I swear, Rominic, it's not.”His eyes flickered, sharp and unyielding, and she could feel his temper bubbling just beneath the surface. The faint ticking of his wall clock was the only other sound in the room, an infuriating reminder of how slowly time seemed to move in moments like these.Lavender inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. Her cinnamon-brown hair