Mag-log in{Alora’s POV}
~ 5 Days Later ~
I did not usually attend the company’s anniversary.
That was the understanding between Victor and me— unspoken but firm. These events belonged to the company now, not to the woman who had once built it and then stepped away. I stayed home. He went alone. It had been that way for years.
But this time was different.
Victor left early that morning without mentioning it. No reminder. No dismissal. Just absence. And I did not stop him to ask.
I already knew why I was going.
I dressed carefully. Not elegantly or provocatively. Just neatly, deliberately, like someone who still belonged to herself. As I fastened my coat, I looked at my reflection and saw what Victor believed he had reduced me to.
Quiet. Uninformed. Contained.
He was wrong.
The venue glowed when I arrived— glass, steel, money polished into beauty. Music drifted through open doors and laughter followed it. I walked in unnoticed, and for a moment that alone felt like confirmation of how completely I had been erased.
No one stopped me.
No one recognized me.
Inside, the company looked familiar in the way a childhood home looks familiar after strangers have redecorated it. New branding. New faces— Old foundations wearing a different name.
People passed me without a glance.
“She’s practically running the place now,” someone said near the bar.
“The Boss made the right call,” another replied. “It’s smoother.”
I stared, a bit confused. I did not know what they were talking about so I did not ponder it.
I moved farther into the room, standing near the back where shadows softened the light. My hands were steady. My breathing calm. I told myself this was just another room, another crowd.
Then the host stepped onto the stage.
“Good evening,” he said brightly. “Tonight we celebrate ten years of vision, resilience, and leadership.”
Applause rose instantly.
I didn’t clap. Instead, my gaze drifted to the side of the stage as I knew what came next. I had helped plan events like this once so I knew how every pause worked, how every moment was designed to build anticipation.
“And now,” the host continued, pausing just long enough to build anticipation, “please welcome the man who made it all possible— our CEO…”
The host paused as he wasn’t done speaking… and the he continued.
“…and his wife.”
The words landed before the image.
My chest hollowed out in a way that felt physical and just then, Victor walked onto the stage, confident as ever. His suit fit perfectly while his smile came easily.
He looked like a man exactly where he intended to be. And beside him—
Anna.
My heart staggered and stung while my body froze.
She stepped forward with Victor, her posture composed, her expression warm and controlled. Their hands were linked.
The dress she wore was elegant and familiar. I realized I had helped her choose it once.
The crowd applauded harder now. Phones lifted. Faces turned toward the stage with approval, not curiosity. No one whispered. No one questioned.
This was not a revelation to them.
It was an announcement and I thought this was as worse as it could get.
Then my son appeared…
He trailed after them calmly, obediently, stopping where he was guided. He did not scan the crowd. He did not look for me…
He stood with them like he belonged there and taking the sight in, something inside me cracked— not loudly, not visibly, but completely.
I remained where I was, horrified, as applause thundered and the image settled into place. Victor, Anna, my child. A family assembled without me.
Around me, the murmurs began.
“I thought the boss’s wife couldn’t speak.”
“She disappeared years ago, didn’t she?”
“I heard she helped start the company.”
“Well, clearly not anymore.”
A man laughed softly then. “Who’d want a wife like that anyway?”
My throat burned.
I tried to speak, tell them they were wrong, but nothing came.
Victor began his speech now— words about growth, stability, the future. I barely heard him. My teary eyes stayed on Anna as she smiled at the right moments, nodded when appropriate, accepted the applause like it had always belonged to her.
This wasn’t an affair exposed.
This was a replacement completed.
When the speech ended and Victor cleared the stage to carry on with his night, I moved forward.
I would go and confront him still
I didn’t rush now. Neither did I hesitate. I walked with the calm of someone who had already lost everything and therefore had nothing left to protect. There were tears in my eyes but then I wiped them off.
Victor saw me then.
For a brief moment— just one, something flickered across his face. Recognition. Calculation… and then it was gone.
I halted and we stood a few feet apart, surrounded by noise, light and people pretending not to watch.
I lifted my hands. This was the hardest part; not being able to express myself fluently even when I had a lot to say.
>You planned this.<
Victor glanced at my fingers, then away. “This isn’t the place. Do yourself a favor and leave. Besides, you shouldn’t be here.” He told me.
I knew of his cruelty after almost being raped at the location he sent me, but hearing him speak this way now still stung me.
There was no single hint of remorse in his voice, butt ignored that disappointment and signed again.
>You sent me away. You replaced me!<
Anna joined then and my gaze was forced to shift to her as she held Noah in her hand. They both stopped at an angle around Victor and seeing how indifferent Noah was about coming up to meet me broke me.
Tears brimmed in my eyes again and then there was Anna’s satisfied expression to tear me down even more.
“I took you as a sister.” I signed but then she raised a hand to stop me.
“Don’t bother. I never really understood you.” She said dismissively.
And then Victor called back my attention. “We’re done, Alora.”
The words were raw. Final.
I didn’t get the chance to reach as I watched him turn to Anna who handed him a folder which he collected and stretched out to me.
“Everything’s in there,” he said. “Sign and this ends cleanly.”
I stared in disbelief, but then I took the envelope and opened it with numb fingers.
Divorce papers.
Custody arrangements.
Conditions.
I looked up at him, the disbelief tightening my chest.
>Our son— <
Victor didn’t let me finish.
“Children need stability,” he said calmly. “Consistency. Representation.”
Stability.
I stared at him.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear.
“If you cooperate, you can walk away quietly and access to him,”
A pause.
“But if you don’t, things get… complicated.”
I understood.
This wasn’t a threat shouted in anger. It was a fact delivered with precision.
I closed the folder.
Anna spoke then. “You can leave.” She said and it wasn’t exactly her words that stung. It was the fact that she said it without any drop of guilt.
With that, Security appeared and firm hands guided me toward the exit. No one protested. No one intervened.
Tears resurfaced and then I was thrown to the ground, thrown out of the company I built.
The night air hit me hard but I didn’t let the tears flow out.
Instead, I chose strength and tried to rise to my feet, but then my cruel fate had more surprises for me.
The night felt suddenly too loud, too sharp. My pulse thundered in my ears and just then, I threw up violently.
It was odd and it was not supposed to be a big deal if not for the fact that, during wiping my mouth and recovering, I pieced the pieces together.
I wasn’t the type that threw up for any reason. And I wasn’t sick so…
My hand moved instinctively to my stomach and I froze.
No…
I settled back on the ground as realization pressed down on me.
I wasn’t ill. I wasn’t irritated.
I was pregnant— with a stranger’s baby.
{Morningstar}The doors opened.Everything else fell away.The voices in the corridor, the movement, the quiet hum of the hospital— none of it held long enough to matter. Attention shifted all at once, drawn toward the same point, held there by the man stepping out from behind those doors.It was the same doctor.The one who had told me to stay back.He didn’t rush. Didn’t slow either. His pace was steady in a way that suggested control, but not certainty. That difference settled before he spoke.“She’s stable.”The words landed cleanly and for a second, nothing followed them.Not relief.Not movement.Just a pause long enough to understand what had been said.My shoulders eased slightly before I noticed it, the tension that had been sitting there loosening just enough to shift.Then he continued.“She was severely dehydrated. Exhaustion as well. Her system was under strain and there were also traces of infection.”His gaze held mine as he spoke, not confrontational, but direct.“As a
{Morningstar}The screen had already changed.Whatever had been playing before was gone, replaced by something else that didn’t hold long enough to register. The corridor had returned to itself—voices low, movement steady, people shifting in and out of spaces that had nothing to do with me.But I hadn’t moved.Not yet.The image stayed where it had settled, clear enough that it didn’t fade with the rest of it. The way he had stood in front of her. The way his hand had moved. The force of it.I exhaled slowly, the breath controlled, measured.Then I turned.Sebastian noticed before I reached him.“You’ve been moving around like something’s off,” he said, pushing himself up from where he had been sitting. “What is it?”I didn’t answer immediately.The words weren’t difficult to find. They were already there, fully formed. It was the space between deciding to say them and letting them out that held for a second longer than it should have.Then—“Someone put their hands on her.”Sebastian
{Morningstar}The doors had been closed for too long.I didn’t measure the time.Not by minutes. Not by anything I could name.But I knew it.I had been standing in the same place when they took her in, watching those doors as though they would open simply because I hadn’t looked away long enough. At some point, that stopped being enough.So I moved.The corridor stretched out in both directions, long and sterile, the light overhead too bright to soften anything it touched. I walked without choosing a direction, my steps steady at first, then slower, then picking up again without reason.There were people around.I noticed them.A man seated with his head bowed, his hands clasped so tightly his knuckles had gone pale. A woman pacing a few steps ahead, stopping every few seconds as though she expected something to change if she waited long enough.Voices moved through the space in low tones. Nurses passed by with purpose, their attention fixed on things that had nothing to do with me.
{Morningstar}The ambulance doors opened before the vehicle came to a full stop.Everything moved at once.Hands reached in. Voices overlapped. The stretcher was pulled out in one smooth motion, its wheels hitting the ground and rolling forward without pause. The paramedics didn’t wait for space to clear— they created it as they moved, guiding her through the entrance with practiced urgency.I stepped out right behind them.No one told me to follow.No one stopped me either.**The hospital doors slid open, and the air changed immediately. Brighter. Sharper. The smell of antiseptic cut through everything else, clean and cold.“Female, mid-twenties,” one of the paramedics was saying as they pushed her forward. “Unconscious on arrival. Pulse weak. Breathing shallow.”A nurse joined them, already walking backward as she took in the information.“How long has she been unresponsive?”“Unknown.”“Any trauma?”“None visible.”They didn’t slow down.Neither did I.“Sir—”The voice came from my
{Morningstar}We left the main road sooner than I expected.The man from the café walked ahead of us, his pace uneven, as though he was trying to remember the path while following it. The street he led us into narrowed gradually, the buildings losing their finish the farther we went. Paint gave way to exposed concrete. Windows became openings without glass.The ground beneath our feet shifted from even pavement to rough patches that forced slight adjustments with every step.“This way,” he said, glancing back once before continuing.The men spread out slightly, not enough to lose sight of one another, but enough to cover more ground. The DPO walked just behind me, speaking briefly into his phone before slipping it back into his pocket.I didn’t respond to anything around me.My attention moved ahead as the space grew quieter.Not empty, but reduced. Fewer voices. Less movement. Even the air seemed heavier, carrying the faint scent of dust and something unsettled.The man slowed.He loo
{Morningstar}By the time I stepped into the security wing, they were already assembled.The room was not small, yet it felt contained with the number of men standing inside it. Some stood with their hands behind their backs, others with their arms at their sides, all of them facing forward with the same alert posture. The moment I entered, their attention shifted completely.No one spoke.I walked past the first line and stopped where I could see all of them clearly.“Who saw her last?”The question moved through the room without resistance, but the answer did not come immediately. There was a brief exchange of glances before two men stepped forward.“I did, sir,” one of them said.The other nodded. “Same, sir.”I looked at the first one. “When?”“Two mornings ago, sir. Early. Just after sunrise.”“She was leaving?”“Yes, sir.”“Alone?”“Yes.”There was no hesitation in his answer, but there was something else missing from it. I shifted my attention to the second man.“You saw her as
{Alora’s POV}Every head in the room turned toward me.The silence was immediate and heavy, the kind that presses against your chest and makes the air feel thinner. Morningstar’s gaze was already on me, and the anger in it was unmistakable. It burned across the room like heat from a furnace.I knew
{Alora’s POV}The door closed behind me, and for a second the only sound in the room was the low hum of the city beyond the glass.He was standing when I entered.The light from the skyline caught against the sharp lines of his profile before he turned fully toward me. Recognition did not take time
{Alora’s POV}The pharmacy was still behind me, carrying on with it running while I remained there on the sidewalk, still thinking, still distressing. Still doubting. Then I dialed Victor.The call did not even ring. It ended before it began and I stared at the screen.“Call Failed.”I tried again
{Alora’s POV}“Wait.”The word left my mouth without sound. I continued chasing after him anyway.The alleyway of my rented building felt narrower than before as I pushed through it and out into the street. The man was halfway down the sidewalk, moving with long strides.My heart pounded in my throa







