LOGINCaelen Valentine has it all—money, charm, and zero consequences. Until one reckless night lands him in the worst possible mess: he’s gotten Aria Throne pregnant. Her brother, Lucian, is the city’s most feared mafia boss. And he doesn’t forgive. But when Lucian takes Caelen hostage, their hatred sparks something neither expects—an obsession neither can control. Now it’s more than revenge. More than pride. It’s a game of desire, danger, and a love that could ruin them both. In a world of power and betrayal, will they choose each other—or destroy everything?
View MoreChapter One
Sofia stood at the top of the grand staircase, her heart fluttering with overwhelming joy. She cradled her stomach, a radiant smile lighting up her face as she gazed at her older sister, Chloe. “Chloe,” she whispered, voice trembling with excitement. “I’m pregnant... with triplets.” The words spilled from her lips like a precious secret. Chloe’s face twisted, her eyes narrowing into slits. Without warning—without a single word—she lunged forward and shoved Sofia, hard. The force was brutal, unexpected. Sofia’s feet slipped off the edge. The ground disappeared. She tumbled backward, her body crashing violently against the sharp marble steps. Pain exploded through her head. Her back. Her stomach. Thud. Thud. Thud. She came to a crushing halt at the bottom, her body sprawled across the cold floor. Blood. Warm, sticky blood was soaking through her pale dress, trailing from her head and seeping from between her legs. Her belly ached, twisting with sharp pain that made her want to scream. Chloe’s heels echoed on the staircase as she descended, slow and deliberate. Sofia blinked up at her, vision blurred by tears. “W-why?” she whispered, her voice breaking, weak. Chloe’s arms folded across her chest, her expression dark and unforgiving. “Because you don’t belong here, Sofia,” she spat. “Get out of this house before Aaron comes home. I’m his real wife. Not you.” Sofia’s lips parted, trembling with disbelief. Pain pulsed deep in her abdomen as she forced herself to sit up, clutching her stomach. “No... you’re lying. I married him. I’m his wife... Chloe, please.” Chloe’s face twisted with mockery, a cruel smile playing at the corner of her lips. “Don’t play innocent! You were nothing more than a pity case. Everyone knows you only married him because you were forced. Remember? I was supposed to marry Aaron. Me!” Sofia shook her head, tears blinding her as she gritted through the pain. “You refused him,” she whispered, voice ragged. “You said he was... a disgrace. You didn’t want to marry a blind man. You left him when he needed you.” Chloe’s eyes narrowed, venom dripping from every word. “Of course, I did! Why would I ruin my life by marrying a blind heir? But look where we are now, Sofia! Aaron had his thirteenth surgery. He can see again! He’s the CEO now—wealthy, powerful. And you? You were just his temporary nurse. His charity case. A replacement.” Sofia’s heart cracked at the cruelty of her words. Her trembling hand pressed harder against her aching belly. “You weren’t there when he struggled. When he felt worthless. I was. I stayed. I loved him... not his wealth.” Chloe’s expression soured, her lips curling. “Love? Don’t make me laugh. Aaron deserves better than a pitiful girl like you. Now, get out before I have security drag you out.” Sudden pain shot through Sofia’s stomach, sharp and unbearable. She gasped, doubling over. “Chloe... p-please... something’s wrong,” she whispered, her voice cracking as fresh blood pooled beneath her. A shadow appeared at the entryway. “Mrs. Knight?” Daniel. The family driver rushed forward, eyes widening in horror as he saw Sofia collapsed in a pool of blood. “Ma’am! Oh my God—what happened?” Sofia’s head lolled back, her face pale. “Daniel... please... take me to the hospital. My baby... I think I’m losing my baby.” Chloe scoffed from the staircase, rolling her eyes. “She’s faking it, Daniel. Don’t let her fool you. This is just her desperate attempt to trap Aaron with a fake pregnancy. Look at her.” Daniel’s face twisted with disgust as he glared at Chloe. “I’m not leaving her like this,” he snapped. He scooped Sofia gently into his arms. Sofia whimpered, her head resting against his shoulder, pain spreading like wildfire through her body. Her last sight before the door closed was Chloe standing there, arms crossed, smirking. The hospital was cold. The antiseptic smell made her stomach churn as she lay on the examination bed. Her dress was still soaked in blood. The nurse’s hands were gentle as she checked Sofia’s vitals, but the worry in her eyes was unmistakable. “Please... my babies,” Sofia whispered weakly. “Are they... okay?” The nurse offered a small, sad smile but her expression remained serious. “Mrs. Knight, you’re pregnant with triplets. But the fall caused significant trauma. You’re at high risk of losing all three. You need complete bed rest or the pregnancy won’t survive.” Triplets. A sob caught in Sofia’s throat. Three babies. Aaron’s babies. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Just... please, save them.” Two days later, Sofia returned to the mansion. Weaker. But hopeful. She had to tell Aaron the truth. He deserved to know. The moment she stepped inside, her heart stopped. Aaron was there. Holding Chloe. Their lips were pressed together in a deep, lingering kiss. The love of her life. The father of her unborn children. Kissing the woman who had nearly killed her. Sofia felt her heart break all over again. Aaron finally pulled away, gazing at Chloe with such tenderness that it crushed her even more. “Thank you, love... for staying with me all these years,” he whispered. “I couldn’t have made it through the surgeries without you.” Sofia’s hands trembled. “Aaron?” He turned. His eyes. Clear. No longer blind. But they looked at her with nothing but confusion. Chloe stepped closer, clutching his arm. “Oh, look. The gold digger is back,” she sneered. Aaron’s brows furrowed. “What is she doing here?” Sofia felt her chest tighten. She took a step forward, voice shaking. “Aaron... it’s me. Sofia. Your wife.” Aaron’s face darkened, his expression hard. “No... you’re not. My wife—my real wife—is standing right here. Chloe.” Sofia felt her breath leave her. “No. She abandoned you! I was the one who stayed! I held your hand after every surgery. I took care of you when no one else would! Please, Aaron... can’t you hear my voice? Remember me?” Chloe clung tighter to his arm, fake tears shimmering in her eyes. “Aaron, don’t let her confuse you. Your mind is still adjusting from the surgery... It’s common for patients to have memory distortions.” Sofia pressed a trembling hand to her stomach. “I’m pregnant, Aaron. With your children... triplets.” Aaron’s gaze dropped to her bloodstained dress. His lips curled in disgust. “Pregnant? Look at yourself! You’re a mess. You expect me to believe you’re carrying my children like this?” Chloe snickered. “She’s probably trying to pin some random man’s babies on you. Desperate, isn’t she?” Sofia sobbed, shaking her head. “No, Aaron! Please, I’m telling the truth—ask Daniel! He took me to the hospital after Chloe—” “Enough!” Aaron’s voice thundered. His face was stone. “Stop this madness. Get out of my house. And take your bastards with you.”LIAM MARTIN'S POVI could barely focus. The world seemed to tilt sideways, the chatter and clinking glasses downstairs turning into an unintelligible hum. My vision swam in a haze of disbelief, confusion, and adrenaline. My knees felt weak—I had to lean into Grayson just to stay upright.“You’re going to be fine,” he murmured, his hands bracing me, steady as bedrock. I’d leaned against him without thinking, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something warmer, more intimate, something only he carried. My pulse was a chaotic drum in my ears.“What… what’s happening?” My voice sounded thin, almost foreign. I felt my chest tighten painfully.“Shh,” he said softly, tilting my chin up. His thumb brushed over my jaw with that careful patience that made me want to melt into him entirely. “Just listen.”I nodded dumbly. Words wouldn’t form. My thoughts kept colliding: The party… the people… why is he like this?“I love you,” he said suddenly, almost breaking the fragile quiet
GRAYSON PITTMAN’S POVThe office had that same sterile chill it always did—the hum of the central air, the quiet buzz of the espresso machine, and the faint static of irritation coming from Caisen every time I so much as breathed in his direction. He sat across from me with his usual disdain, the type that made you wonder if he was born glaring.He had his feet on my coffee table and his hand halfway inside Lucian's assistant’s shirt. Typical.Caisen wasn’t mine to control, though heaven knew I’d tried once. I let him and his theatrics exist like a necessary chaos in an otherwise precise world.He was running his thumb along the waistband of Conrad’s jeans, smirking like a cat with feathers in its mouth. I didn’t bother hiding my sigh. “You two do remember this is an office, not an episode of something banned on network television?”Caisen gave me a look sharp enough to decapitate. “You called us here, Pittman. Don’t complain about what you invite.”I had, indeed. And now I almost regr
LIAM MARTIN’S POVThe kiss left a taste of espresso and regret on my tongue. I could still feel the press of his hands—steady, commanding, devastatingly gentle—lingering on my skin long after he pulled away. Grayson Pittman didn’t just touch; he claimed. Every brush of his fingers felt like a vow I wasn’t foolish enough to believe anymore.He stood there for a second, his expression unreadable, before muttering something about dinner. I nodded, mutely. He left the conservatory first, as if he hadn’t just rearranged the air I breathed. Typical.I followed minutes later, my lips swollen, my heart swollen stupidly more. The dining room was dimly lit, the kind of aesthetic Grayson liked—muted elegance, crystal glasses that probably cost more than my entire college degree. I sat opposite him, quietly eating the risotto Ratna had left warming on the side. He didn’t speak. Neither did I. Our silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was a ghost of something unfinished, waiting for one of us to flinch
GRAYSON PITTMAN'S POVThe door to the conservatory, which I had long since converted into Liam’s private studio, was slightly ajar. I pushed it open, the scent of cold americano and paper filling the air, a much-preferred aroma to the sterile smell of my office. He was hunched over a massive drafting table, his back curved like a parenthesis, illuminated by the focused arc of an architectural lamp. Ratna’s report was accurate: he hadn’t moved.He was sitting on a modernist chair—all sleek lines and hard plastic—and the sight of his strained posture sent a sharp, involuntary tremor of irritation through me. Every ache in his body, especially the lower back pain that must be radiating down his spine, was my fault. I owned that debt, and seeing him suffer needlessly, even physically, was unacceptable.“You’re going to ruin your spine,” I stated, my voice cutting through the silent focus of the room. I walked over, not waiting for a response, and snagged one of the overstuffed velvet p






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