LOGINThis book will always remain close to my heart — my first, my beginning, my proof that stories can survive storms. It is not just a collection of words, but a journey carved out of years of unexpected challenges, personal battles, and quiet triumphs.Every page carries pieces of me, fragments of nights spent in doubt, mornings filled with determination, and countless moments where I wondered if I would ever reach the end. Yet here we are, together.....Writing has become my sanctuary. In the midst of life’s chaos, it gave me a place to breathe, to dream, and to heal. There were times when I thought I would never finish, when the weight of responsibilities and heartbreaks made me want to give up. But the characters kept calling me back, whispering their truths, demanding to be heard. And now, seeing this book complete, I realize it is not just mine — it belongs to all of you who chose to walk beside me.Your support has been my strength. Every message, every word of encouragement, ever
Dear Readers,As I sit down to write these words, my heart is overflowing with gratitude. This book — my very first — is more than just a story. It is a piece of my soul, carved out over years of unexpected challenges, personal storms, and quiet triumphs. There were moments when life felt too heavy, when writing seemed impossible, and yet, somehow, I kept returning to these pages.This journey has not been easy. It took years to complete, years filled with ups and downs that tested me in ways I never imagined. But through it all, the characters, the emotions, and the world I was building became my refuge. And now, after finishing this much-anticipated book, I realize it is not just mine — it belongs to all of you who chose to walk this path with me.To every reader who supported me throughout this journey, who felt the pain, the love, the heartbreak, and the hope woven into this story — thank you. Your presence gives meaning to my words. Your support makes every sleepless night, every
Twelve Years Later:“Please, let me go… I’m already exhausted, and it’s a big day. Iggy will be waiting for me… I hope he isn’t already crying,” Davina coaxed, her voice strained yet soft, as Damon’s lips traced fire along her neck.“Baby,” he murmured against her skin, his tone husky with desire,“I can’t get enough of you. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve had you this morning… I need more.” His teasing words made her blush, her body betraying her resolve.Davina’s breath came in husky whispers, her body trembling under his touch.“Dami… ahh… please… we’re already so late…” she moaned, trying to sound firm but betraying herself with every shiver.Damon chuckled against her skin, his lips grazing her neck as he teased,“Late? Baby, the world can wait. You know I can’t get enough of you. And tell me — what do you think about another baby? Maybe twins this time… a boy and a girl. Imagine me shirtless, messy hair, all sweaty, trying to rock them to sleep. Feeding them, holding them
The drive to the hospital was long and heavy, each passing streetlight flickering against Davina’s tear‑streaked face.No matter how she tried, Ryan’s words kept echoing in her mind like shards of glass, cutting deeper with every breath. Thankless. Curse. Evil omen. The cruelty of it all left her hollow.Was that how everyone saw her — a woman who destroyed everything she touched?Her hands trembled as she clenched the phone, trying to steady the storm inside her. But the effort was futile — until a sound cut through the chaos, fragile yet powerful: the laughter of her children.Inara’s giggle, the boys’ playful bickering over who had drawn the better card for their father, the tiny bouquet Inara had made from wildflowers — all of it washed away the poison of Ryan’s words. Their innocence was her salvation. She wiped her tears, forcing a smile as the hospital gates came into view.Michael was waiting at the entrance, his expression softening when he saw her. She looked fragile — banda
The morning light spilled through the towering glass windows of their bedroom, pale and cold against the polished floor. Davina stood near the glass, as though she were fading into the world outside.Hospitals were places she despised — too many memories, too much pain — so she had chosen instead to wait here, in Damon’s vast home, a place she had once called her own.Now it's silence pressed heavier than any sterile ward, the floor‑to‑ceiling glass windows reflecting her ghostlike figure back at her, reminding her of everything she had lost and everything she still feared.Three days had passed since Damon’s surgery. Three days of endless quiet. Three days of watching the sun rise and fall, waiting for a heartbeat strong enough to promise survival.Jenny’s voice broke the stillness.“Are you sure, Shifu? You’ve barely recovered. The doctors said you needed at least a week of rest.”Davina turned, her expression calm but her eyes hollow.“No matter what you say, you can’t convince me
Alex’s heart thundered in his chest as he sped through the city, the car slicing through traffic like a blade. His knuckles whitened against the steering wheel, his breath shallow, his mind screaming at him to go faster.Every second felt like a lifetime. Behind him, Damon lay sprawled across the seat, his body drenched in blood, his breaths shallow, his skin ghostly pale. Davina clung to him, her clothes soaked crimson, her tears falling like rain. Inara whimpered softly, her tiny voice trembling, her wide eyes locked on her father’s fading face.Jacob had stayed behind, forced to deal with the aftermath — clearing bodies, coordinating teams, ensuring no trace of the massacre remained.But Alex’s focus was singular: get Damon to Trinity Hospital. He broke every traffic rule, weaving through cars, the siren of his own heartbeat louder than the horns around him. Fifteen minutes felt like eternity.Trinity Hospital loomed ahead — the Knight Group’s pride, Damon’s own empire. Yet tonight
PASTShefali’s POVMy parents had packed their bags.Waiting.Of course.When I needed them the most — they had to leave.“Dad…” I whispered.He looked at me — sad, disappointed. Like he couldn’t even meet my eyes.Did they know?Mumma cleared the air. “Baby, we’re really sorry. Something urgent ca
PASTShefali's POV: Morning came, but the dread didn’t leave.I woke up tangled in Damon’s sheets, his arm draped over my waist like a claim. His breath was steady, his body warm against mine. But I couldn’t stop the chill crawling up my spine.I hadn’t slept.Not really.Every time I closed my ey
But I knew better.She was whispering something.Probably “Congratulations.”But her lips brushed his cheek, and her eyes flicked sideways — locking onto me with a smirk that screamed challenge.The announcer called some bigshot of boxing, who handed Damon the WBC International Heavyweight Title, c
PASTShefali's POV:The next few days passed quietly. Peaceful, yes — but incomplete.I missed him.I kept expecting a call, a message, anything. But Damon didn’t reach out. Not once.Instead, he sent back a few essentials — my laptop, books, notes, innerwears, and some clothes. All branded, all pr







