I stood barefoot on the damp sand, the wind weaving through my hair like invisible fingers, the sea humming a lullaby that had become the heartbeat of our peaceful island life. Leon stood beside me, his hand resting on the curve of my growing belly. It had become our evening ritual, watching the sunset together, our two kids—Isla and Theo—laughing somewhere behind us, chasing each other with sticks and seashells.I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the sound of the waves steady my heart. This place—this little paradise Leon bought for our third child—had become more than a retreat. It was a dream he turned into a promise. But even dreams, I had come to learn, were fragile."She kicked again," I said softly.Leon turned, his eyes lighting up. He dropped to his knees and pressed his ear against my belly. "Hey, little one. You trying to tell us something?"I laughed, running my fingers through his hair. We had built a world here—away from pain, betrayal, and danger. For nearly a year,
When we stepped back into the rhythm of Anacortes, it wasn’t like slipping into an old coat—it was like walking into a haunted house. Familiar, yes, but every corner creaked with memories and shadows.Leon drove us home from the precinct in silence. One hand on the wheel, the other draped protectively over my knee, as if touching me could anchor him—and maybe, in a way, it did.“I’m not going to let him near them,” he finally said, breaking the silence as we passed through the old business district. “Christian Vance. I don’t care how many aliases he uses or how far his reach goes. I’ll burn everything he’s built if it means keeping you and the kids safe.”“I know,” I said, watching the reflection of our car lights ripple across the shop windows. “But we need to be smart about this. He’s already several steps ahead.”“And we’ll catch up,” Leon said, jaw tight.Back at the estate, Aunt Lou met us at the door with Lucas in her arms and Elias trailing behind, eyes sleepy but curious.“Was
I stood barefoot on the damp sand, the wind weaving through my hair like invisible fingers, the sea humming a lullaby that had become the heartbeat of our peaceful island life. Leon stood beside me, his hand resting on the curve of my growing belly. It had become our evening ritual, watching the sunset together, our two kids—Isla and Theo—laughing somewhere behind us, chasing each other with sticks and seashells.I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the sound of the waves steady my heart. This place—this little paradise Leon bought for our third child—had become more than a retreat. It was a dream he turned into a promise. But even dreams, I had come to learn, were fragile."She kicked again," I said softly.Leon turned, his eyes lighting up. He dropped to his knees and pressed his ear against my belly. "Hey, little one. You trying to tell us something?"I laughed, running my fingers through his hair. We had built a world here—away from pain, betrayal, and danger. For nearly a year,
We had heard of him, of course. Anyone who read financial papers or watched market news did. The sharp-tongued tycoon who’d climbed the corporate ladder with bloody fingers. He was all steel suits, scandalous acquisitions, and the kind of gaze that could unsettle even the most confident businessman.When his yacht anchored off the neighboring island, Leon’s posture changed. Gone was the relaxed man who napped in hammocks and tossed coconuts to our sons. He stood by the window that evening, fingers curled tightly around his glass of whiskey, staring at the horizon like it had betrayed him.“Do you know him?” I asked gently.Leon didn’t answer immediately. “I knew of him. Years ago, we were both candidates for a massive joint venture in Europe. I walked away. He didn’t. He won… and lost half his investors by the following quarter.”“Why is he here?”Leon turned to face me. “That’s the question keeping me awake.”It started small. Strange boats circled our island. Drones hovered far too
The silence in the house wasn’t peace. It was the kind that hummed before a storm, like the breath the earth holds before lightning strikes.It was barely past seven. Leon had taken Elijah and Caleb out for ice cream, partly to give me a moment of rest, partly to shake off the tension none of us wanted to name. I sat alone in the living room of our new home—our temporary fortress—holding the letter Christian Vance had sent, my fingers brushing its torn wax seal again and again.He knew.I didn't know what exactly, but it was enough to unearth the bones of a history we’d spent years trying to bury.The windows rattled softly as the wind picked up outside. I wrapped my arms around myself. My belly, already firm and rounded, shifted with the slight flutter of our daughter’s movements. She always kicked when I was anxious—like she could feel the storm in me.“You’re safe,” I whispered to her, resting my hand against the curve of my bump. “You’re going to be safe.”The front door opened qu
The invitation arrived in the most unsettling way: a velvet black envelope, hand-delivered by a silent courier in a tailored charcoal suit.Letty snatched it off the porch before the boys could even see it. By the time she handed it to me, her face had gone pale.“It’s not just a letter this time,” she said. “He wants to meet.”I opened it slowly, expecting more threats, more cryptic taunts.Instead, it was an invitation.Embossed. Elegant.Dinner at Grayson Manor.Friday. Eight o’clock.Come alone.Let’s stop pretending we aren’t the same.— CVI laughed. Actually laughed.“This man thinks we’re equals,” I said, holding up the invitation. “How precious.”Leon didn’t find it amusing. He paced across the living room, phone already pressed to his ear. “No way in hell are you going.”“Leon—”“He’s baiting you. It’s a trap.”“He’s not going to hurt me. Not yet,” I said. “Not while the media’s watching and the press is still eating up our interview. If anything, he’s trying to manipulate t
Back at the villa that night, I couldn’t speak.Leon sat beside me on the couch, watching the sea crash against the rocks below.“You okay?” he asked gently.“No,” I whispered. “But I’m not broken.”He took my hand. “Then we go after him. All of them.”I stared out the window. The darkness didn’t feel empty anymore. It felt full of purpose.“We burn their empire down,” I said. “Brick by brick.”***Letty cried when I sent her the files.“It’s worse than we thought,” she said. “And also exactly what we feared.”She and Riley got to work immediately—scrubbing every page, verifying every lead. Meanwhile, Leon began arranging an exclusive interview with one of the world’s most ruthless and untouchable journalists: Emilia Rhys.She had once exposed a royal arms dealer with nothing but a pen and a satellite phone.If anyone could launch this story into the stratosphere, it was her.“She’s agreed to meet,” Leon said a day later. “Tomorrow night. In Zurich.”“Then we go,” I said without hesit
Letty’s phone rang just as we finished breakfast.Her hand froze above her coffee cup. The ringtone wasn’t her usual chirpy tune—it was that sharp trill reserved for emergencies. The moment she answered, her face went pale.“What happened?” Leon asked before she even hung up.Letty pressed the phone to her chest, like shielding it would make the words less real. “They suspended me. Without cause. Effective immediately.”I stared at her, stunned. “The university board?”She nodded. “The Dean said an anonymous complaint was submitted—allegations of academic misconduct. Plagiarism. Falsifying grades.”Leon’s voice was flat. “Bullshit.”Letty’s laugh was bitter. “Of course it is. But it’s timed perfectly, isn’t it?”My stomach twisted. “That was Christian.”“Who else?” she said, eyes wide with disbelief. “He’s not just attacking from the front. He’s eroding us piece by piece.”I reached out and gripped her hand. “He won’t win.”Letty nodded, but her fingers were cold.By midday, the secon
The rain was falling again.It always did on days like this—days that felt like endings.I stood on the edge of the cliffs overlooking the stormy waters of Anacortes, my coat pulled tightly around me, the hood shielding my face from the wind that carried the scent of salt and something older—something like goodbye.Leon stood behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to feel him there. His presence was familiar now, carved into my skin like muscle memory. He’d been my gravity, my storm, my salvation, and my ruin—sometimes all at once.“It’s really over, isn’t it?” I whispered, more to the wind than to him.He didn’t answer right away. His silence was as heavy as the stormclouds above us.“I wanted to fix everything for you,” he said finally, his voice hoarse, like it had been dragged across a battlefield. “I wanted to give you a life that didn’t hurt.”I closed my eyes. The ache in my chest pulsed with every beat of my heart. “You did,” I said. “For a while, you did.”I heard the crunch
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m not the same person I was before,” I said, my voice firm, unwavering. “And I’m not walking away this time.”The man’s eyes flickered with a moment of doubt, just enough for me to catch. And then, before I could even register what had happened, Leon moved.Faster than I could blink, Leon was in front of me, his hand grabbing the gun and twisting it out of the man’s grasp. The force of it sent the man stumbling back, but he didn’t go down easily. His bodyguards rushed in, but Leon was already a step ahead, disarming one of them with a swift, calculated move.I stood frozen for a moment, trying to process what I was witnessing. Leon—always so calm, always so careful—was ruthless. He was like a force of nature, determined to protect me at all costs.But the fight wasn’t over yet. The man recovered, his eyes burning with rage. “You really think you’ve won?” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re nothing but a pawn in a game you can’t ev
The sound of boots drew closer, pounding the floor with an urgency that echoed through the cavernous halls of the estate. My heart raced as the reality of what I had just heard crashed into me like a tidal wave. The man who had once been a part of my life—my family’s betrayer, the one who had orchestrated their deaths—stood there, calmly, as if this was just another night for him.Leon’s grip on my hand tightened, but I didn’t let him pull me away. I could feel the air thickening with tension, the walls pressing in as everything I thought I knew began to crumble.The intruders were only moments away.The man—he—smirked, watching us. “You think this will end well? You’ve no idea what you’re up against. My people are everywhere.”I took a step forward, ignoring Leon’s silent plea to retreat. “You killed them. And you thought I would be the next one to fall in line?” My voice was a whisper, but it held a power I hadn’t realized I had. “You were wrong.”The man’s face faltered, just for a
Next Morning at the Estate Archives. The basement was cold and damp, and the air smelled of mildew and secrets. Old boxes lined the walls, labeled in my father’s tidy script. Financial records. Land deeds. Correspondence.Leon sifted through a crate of documents while I dug through another.Then something caught my eye.A faded folder labeled: Project Thornfield.I opened it slowly.Inside were blueprints—plans for development across coastal land that was supposed to be protected forest. There were signatures from multiple board members, including names I recognized.And then, one I didn’t.N. Vallis.Leon leaned over. “You know that name?”I shook my head. “No. But look here—he signed off on the project two weeks before my parents died.”Leon pulled out his phone. “I’ll run a background check.”I kept flipping through the documents—and found something that made my blood run cold.An aerial photo.Of the cliffside. Our property.With a giant red X drawn over the coordinates where my p
THREE WEEKS LATER...The investigation moved faster than I’d expected. With the board fully on our side now, the paper trail unraveled like a thread pulled from an old sweater—each piece of evidence exposing the next. Shell companies. Forged contracts. Witnesses who had remained silent out of fear but were finally coming forward.Still, no one had seen him since the day of the summit. He had vanished without a trace. No flights. No offshore activity. No messages. It was like he’d disappeared into smoke.But Dorian didn’t believe in ghosts. “He’s hiding,” he said as he handed me a thick folder. “And this—this will force him out.”I flipped through the documents. Bank records. A property registered under an alias. Hidden deep in the woods outside of Anacortes. I felt my stomach twist.Leon stepped up behind me, his hand grazing my shoulder. “Let’s pay him a visit.”The cabin was barely more than a shadow tucked between trees. No lights. No car. Just silence and the thrum of insects in t
Sunlight crept cautiously through the cracks in the blinds, casting golden slivers across the hardwood floor of the safe house bedroom. I sat curled up on the edge of the bed, a blanket draped around my shoulders and the journal heavy in my lap. The cover was cracked, worn with age and secrets. My fingers hovered over the first page for what felt like an eternity.Leon was nearby—he hadn’t slept much, either. He stood at the window with a mug of black coffee, watching the world outside with quiet alertness. When I finally opened the journal, he turned slightly but didn’t speak. He knew I needed silence for this.The first entry was dated nearly two decades ago.July 14th. We signed the contract today. Two families, one future. The woman from Delmar Holdings is more cunning than I expected. She knows we’re desperate—and she used it. I told Mariana to trust me. That this was the only way. God help me, I hope I’m right.My breath hitched. Mariana—that was my mother’s name.I flipped thro
MARGARETTE'S POVBefore we could react, the door behind us burst open.Three armed men rushed in, dressed in black, their movements precise and rehearsed. Leon shoved me behind him, drawing his gun up in an instant. Dorian, who had been lingering near the entrance, took cover behind a cabinet, gun already out.“Elise’s father wasn’t bluffing,” I breathed, my heart hammering. “He had backup ready.”Leon fired the first shot, catching one of the intruders in the shoulder and sending him crashing to the floor. Chaos erupted. Dorian ducked low and returned fire, narrowly missing another attacker who retaliated with a spray of bullets that shattered the windows.I crouched behind an overturned table, the sound of gunfire drowning out my thoughts. The locket in my palm dug into my skin, its edges sharp—a painful reminder that I couldn’t afford to lose control now.“Elise’s father!” I shouted to Leon. “He’s escaping!”Through the haze of smoke and broken glass, I saw the man slinking toward
The sound of footsteps pounding in the hallway was the last thing I heard before the door slammed open.I barely had time to react before a rush of armed men poured into the room, their eyes scanning every corner, landing finally on me. There was no mistaking the intent behind their cold stares.“Get down!” Leon’s voice crackled through the earpiece again, but there was no time to obey. I couldn’t allow myself to hesitate—not now, not when the truth was within reach.I raised my gun, my hands steady despite the chaos unfolding around me. I wasn’t going down without a fight, not after everything I had lost. Not after everything Elise’s father had taken from me.Before the first man could react, I fired. The sound of the shot echoed in the confined space, the bullet finding its mark in the man’s chest. His body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud, but the others didn’t hesitate. They moved in faster, their guns drawn, but I was ready.I ducked behind the desk, using it as cover
Dawn came in silver slivers through the cracks in the window. I hadn’t slept—not really. My mind was too loud, looping the footage over and over like a broken reel.Leon sat across from me at the table, sipping his coffee like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Neither of us had said much since the footage. We didn’t need to. The truth had cut so deep, it didn’t leave room for small talk.But I had questions.And I needed answers.“How long do you think he’s known I survived?” I finally asked, voice hoarse.Leon didn’t look away from his mug. “Long enough to start covering his tracks. But he didn’t expect the locket to resurface.”My hand instinctively reached for it. The locket was warm now, like it had absorbed my grief and fury. Inside was a picture of my mother and me—her arm around my tiny shoulders, her smile soft but tired. A photo I hadn’t even remembered until last night.“He killed her,” I whispered. “He killed my father. For what? A project?”“Not just a project,”