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Amelia's Pov
The first thing Maxwell Anderson did after sleeping with me was turn his back without saying a single word, leaving me staring into the darkness while wondering whether a marriage without love could still be called a marriage.
I quietly climbed out of bed after his breathing became steady because cleaning away the evidence of another loveless night had become a habit I performed more often than receiving affection from the man I called my husband.
The mirror reflected a woman I barely recognized anymore because the bright, ambitious jewelry designer who once dreamed of conquering the world had disappeared years ago, leaving behind nothing except Amelia Anderson, the obedient wife who spent every day waiting for love that never came.
I stood beneath the shower until the hot water washed away every mark he had left on my body, yet nothing could remove the unbearable emptiness living inside my heart because Maxwell had always shared my bed while giving his heart to another woman.
My phone suddenly rang before I could lose myself in painful memories, and the smile on Lily's picture immediately reminded me why I still woke up every morning despite feeling emotionally exhausted.
"Good morning, Mommy," Lily said sweetly, although months of chemotherapy had left her tiny voice much weaker than any five-year-old child's voice should ever sound.
"Good morning, my brave girl, because today will become the beginning of your new life after everything you've endured," I replied while desperately hiding the fear threatening to overwhelm me.
"I'm not scared anymore because Daddy promised he'll see me after the doctors make me healthy again."
My chest tightened painfully because Lily never asked for expensive toys or beautiful dresses, choosing instead to dream about something every child deserved without begging.
She simply wanted her father.
"I'll remind Daddy before we leave," I promised, even though I knew I had already spent five years reminding Maxwell that he had a daughter waiting for him.
After ending the call, I found Maxwell downstairs reading financial reports while the breakfast I had prepared remained completely untouched beside him, making me wonder whether anything inside this house truly mattered more than his work.
"The hospital called again because Lily's transplant team has finished preparing everything, and they need both parents present before the surgery begins," I said while placing fresh coffee beside him.
"I know today's schedule already," Maxwell answered without looking away from the papers occupying his attention.
I slowly tightened my hands together before gathering enough courage to continue because Lily deserved one more attempt even if my own heart had already given up.
"Please come with us because Lily has talked about nothing except seeing you before entering the operating room, and she's convinced her father will stay beside her until she wakes again."
Maxwell finally lifted his eyes toward me, although the indifference inside them hurt more than anger because complete emotional distance always leaves deeper scars than cruel words.
"I have another commitment that cannot be postponed."
Before I could answer, his phone vibrated across the table before the familiar name displayed across the screen instantly extinguished every remaining hope inside my heart.
Sophia Sterling.
The woman he loved before meeting me.
The woman he never stopped loving after marrying me.
He answered immediately before concern softened every sharp line across his face, allowing me to witness tenderness I had spent years desperately searching for inside our marriage.
"What happened, Sophia... Don't cry... I'll be there immediately."
He ended the call before collecting his car keys without offering me another explanation.
"Sophia's daughter suddenly became ill, and she has nobody else beside her."
I stared at him in complete disbelief because our own daughter lay inside another hospital praying her father would arrive before surgery.
"Lily also needs you today."
"Emma's condition is critical."
"So is Lily's."
He remained silent.
"Our daughter could die without this transplant, Maxwell, and the only thing she asked for this morning was seeing her father before entering that operating room."
"I'll visit after checking on them."
Those words sounded painfully familiar because every promise Maxwell ever made eventually became another disappointment Lily quietly accepted without complaining.
He walked past me without another glance before the front door closed behind him, leaving the mansion so unbearably silent that I could actually hear my own heart breaking.
When I arrived at the hospital, Lily smiled brightly despite the IV attached to her tiny hand because children somehow discovered hope even inside places adults associated only with pain.
"Mommy, Daddy is coming too, isn't he, because I made something special for him."
She proudly held up a colorful drawing showing the three of us holding hands beneath a bright yellow sun, and uneven letters above our heads read, Daddy, Mommy and Lily Forever.
The drawing almost destroyed me because Lily continued believing we were the happy family she carried inside her innocent heart.
Before I could answer, two doctors entered our room with expressions serious enough to make every hopeful thought immediately disappear.
"Mrs. Anderson, could you please come outside because we urgently need to discuss Lily's transplant."
Fear instantly wrapped itself around my chest because hospitals never used the word urgent to deliver good news.
The senior physician lowered his eyes before speaking quietly.
"I'm deeply sorry, Mrs. Anderson, but Lily's compatible bone marrow donor has been reassigned to another child."
Everything around me suddenly became silent because my mind completely refused to understand the horrifying sentence I had just heard.
"My daughter waited months for that donor."
"I know."
"How can someone simply take away her chance to live?"
The doctor hesitated before answering with visible discomfort.
"The transfer was personally approved by Mr. Maxwell Anderson."
My legs almost gave way beneath me because only one person possessed enough influence to change a hospital's decision within minutes.
"Who received Lily's donor?"
The doctor's voice became almost inaudible.
"Sophia Sterling's daughter."
I ran before another word could reach my ears because every instinct inside me refused to believe Maxwell could possibly choose another woman's child over his own flesh and blood.
The transplant floor was crowded with frightened families, but I found Maxwell immediately because he stood beside Sophia with one protective arm around her shoulders while gently carrying her daughter inside his embrace.
He whispered comforting words before kissing Emma's forehead, and that single kiss hurt more than anything because Lily had spent five years waiting for the same affection without ever receiving it.
"Maxwell."
He turned calmly before looking at me as though nothing extraordinary had happened.
"You gave Lily's donor away."
"Emma needed it more."
My heart stopped beating because four simple words had just destroyed five years of hope.
"Our daughter needed it too."
Sophia lowered her head before pretending to wipe away fresh tears.
"I'm sorry, Amelia, but Emma is all I have left."
Before I could answer, another voice quietly echoed behind me.
"Daddy..."
I slowly turned around before every remaining piece of my heart shattered beyond repair.
Lily stood several steps away wearing her tiny hospital gown while clutching her stuffed rabbit against her chest, and the drawing she had prepared all morning rested proudly inside her trembling hands.
She smiled through her fear before taking another weak step toward Maxwell.
"Daddy, look what I drew for you."
Every person standing nearby silently watched Maxwell because any father would have rushed toward his frightened daughter without thinking twice.
For one brief moment, he hesitated.
Then Sophia tightly held his arm before whispering, "Emma is scared."
Maxwell adjusted Emma inside his embrace before turning away from Lily without saying a single word.
The drawing slipped from Lily's trembling fingers before quietly falling onto the polished floor.
"Daddy..."
She reached toward him again.
"Daddy... please..."
He never turned around.
I caught Lily before her weak little body collapsed against the floor, and she buried her face inside my shoulder while sobbing so quietly that every heartbreaking sound felt like another knife sinking into my chest.
"Mommy," she whispered between tears, "did Daddy not want my picture?"
I could not answer because no lie would ever erase what she had just witnessed.
By the time I returned home that evening after Lily finally cried herself to sleep, I realized something inside me had died forever inside that hospital corridor.
Several hours later, Maxwell walked into our bedroom as though today had been nothing more than another ordinary day before loosening his tie and reaching toward me with the same familiar entitlement he always carried.
I stepped backward before his fingertips could touch me because allowing him near me after everything he had done suddenly felt more unbearable than every lonely night we had already shared.
"What are you doing?" he asked with visible confusion.
I looked at the man I had loved enough to abandon my dreams, sacrifice my career, and endure years of loneliness believing patience would someday earn his affection, only to realize he had freely given another woman everything he had always denied me.
The cruel truth finally became impossible to ignore because Maxwell Anderson had never truly been my husband despite sharing my home, my bed, and my surname.
He had only been a
man borrowing my love while giving his entire heart to someone else.
I met his eyes without allowing another tear to fall because he no longer deserved them.
"I want a divorce.”
Vivienne Laurent's POVI watched the countdown timer tick down on my laptop screen. 35 hours. 52 minutes. 18 seconds. Sophie's terrified face is frozen in the paused video frame. My baby sister who used to braid flowers into my hair and dream about becoming a teacher. Now bound and gagged somewhere while strangers decided whether she lived or died.My phone buzzed. The burner. My hands shook so badly that I almost dropped it trying to unlock the screen.New message."The FBI raid was disappointing. Did you really think we would not notice? Your sister's time is running out. But we are feeling generous. One final offer."I stared at those words. One final offer. Like this was a business negotiation instead of my sister's life hanging in the balance.A second message appeared."Kill Amelia Sterling within 24 hour
Agent Torres's POVThe message about the 48-hour deadline changed everything. I had Vivienne's phone in an evidence bag within minutes and our technical team was analyzing the transmission data before the hour was up. This was no longer a slow investigation building toward eventual arrests. This was a rescue operation against a ticking clock.Rodriguez met me in the command center we had set up at the New York field office. Banks of computers lined the walls. Analysts worked at their stations pulling apart every byte of information Vivienne had given us. The encrypted drive with photos and videos of her sister. The burner phones. Communication logs going back six months."Talk to me," I said to our lead analyst.Sarah Chen looked up from her screen. Dark circles under her eyes suggested she had been working through the night."The burner phone messages
Vivienne Laurent's POVThe FBI agents arrived within twenty minutes. Two men in dark suits who moved with the kind of efficiency that made my stomach drop. Agent Torres was older with gray at his temples and eyes that missed nothing. The other introduced himself as Agent Rodriguez. Younger. Harder. Less sympathetic.Eleanor stood by the window while they took seats across from me. Her office suddenly felt too small. The air is too thick. I could not breathe properly but forced myself to keep it together because falling apart would not save Sophie."Ms. Kozlov," Torres began. His voice was steady. Almost kind. "Eleanor filled us in on the basics. But I need to hear everything from you. Start from the beginning."I clasped my hands together to stop them from shaking. Six months of secrets and terror rose in my throat like bile. Where did I even start?&n
Eleanor Ashford's POVThe name Simone Kozlov burned in my mind long after Israelite called with the news. Viktor Kozlov's daughter is working inside Lumière.Not just working but positioned to steal Amelia's promotion if the threats succeeded. The audacity of it made my blood boil. But it also raised questions that kept me awake through the night.How deep did the infiltration go?Was Simone the only plant or were there others embedded in the company?I had worked at Lumière for over a decade and prided myself on knowing every designer, every assistant, every person who walked through our doors. The thought that someone had been feeding information to criminals under my nose felt like a professional failure.By dawn, I was in my office pulling personnel files. Every hire from the past two years. Every promotion. E
Israelite's POVI did not sleep after Torres sent me the photos of Lily. Instead, I sat in my home office and made calls to people who specialized in finding ghosts. The kind of professionals who operated in gray areas between legal and necessary. By three in the morning, I had assembled a team of five. Former intelligence operatives. Cybersecurity experts. People who owed me favors and understood the urgency."I need everything on Catherine Blackwell's remaining associates," I told them during our conference call. "Financial transactions. Travel records. Known safe houses. Dark web communications. Anything that connects to threats against Amelia Sterling or her daughter. You have forty eight hours."My lead investigator was a woman named Kara Chen. A former NSA analyst who had left government work after becoming disillusioned with bureaucratic limitations. She got results faster than anyone I knew and did
Maxwell's POVThe photos of Lily hit me like a physical blow. Torres had sent them within minutes of receiving the second email and I stared at my phone screen feeling something primal rise in my chest. My daughter. Walking through her school gates. Standing in the playground. Completely unaware that someone had been watching her close enough to capture timestamps and angles that suggested professional surveillance.I called my head of security before I even finished looking at all three images."Marcus. I need a team at Lily's school immediately. Former Secret Service if possible. Armed. Discrete but thorough. No one gets within fifty feet of my daughter without going through them first.""What is the threat level?""Credible and immediate. I will send you the details. Just get people there now."Marcus had worked for me for







