INICIAR SESIÓN“So how was it?” Ezra asked. His hand never left the steering wheel as he drove, though his gaze flicked to her for a brief moment before returning to the road. “It went fine,” she answered, giving him only the watered-down version. “Did he put up a fight with you—” he started, but she cut him off. “No.” “Wait. He just handed your child over without any struggle? No threats, nothing at all?” he asked again, clarifying. She shook her head gently. “Nothing of that sort.” “Damn. I misjudged your husband then,” he chuckled to himself. Autumn’s face remained blank. She had deliberately concealed the rest of their interaction — the agreement and the deed transfer. *I don’t need anyone telling me ‘I told you so.’* “Sorry — ex-husband,” he laughed again at his own joke. “You still seem so infatuated with him.”
The irony of the entire situation wasn’t lost on her. It was just like a few weeks ago, but this time the circumstances were completely different.Autumn sat on the plush leather seat with her legs crossed, staring into space. Her mind kept replaying everything. The beverage she had been served stood untouched.She honestly thought this was still about the miscarriage. That everything he had done up to this moment was his way of punishing her for her recklessness — for hurting the baby and causing the loss.A foolish part of her still clung to the illusion that he loved her. That this was just him venting his anger. She had believed that if she absorbed it long enough, he would eventually forgive her. That he would try to make amends, and they could rebuild their relationship from the ground up this time — instead of jumping straight into marriage the way they had before.She had even compared this to how he reacted when he first found out about Finn’s parentage. But this time was not
Eric, what is this?” Autumn asked, confusion written all over her face.“As you can read, it’s a sales agreement,” he replied coldly.“What does a sales agreement have to do with me? I came here to talk about our son. I came here to talk about our child’s wellbeing,” she reiterated.“And that’s exactly what those papers are for.” He pointed at the document on the table. Dread washed through her bones at his words.She instantly flipped to the first page and froze when she saw the heading.**Sales Agreement for the Kingston Estate and Liberty Mansion in Monaco**Her blood ran cold. She tried to read further, but her chest felt tight.“You want to buy the Kingston Estate from me?” she asked in a hushed whisper, terrified of what he might say if she refused.“Yes. And the other property in Monaco,” he retorted.“Why?” she asked softly, her voice breaking.“Because I don’t need your charity,” he huffed arrogantly.“You don’t need my charity? What about you staying here? Wasn’t that charit
She walked out of the bedroom still clutching the phone to her chest like a form of safety. Her steps were lighter and a bit more composed than before.“You seem better.” Ezra turned his head toward the door when he heard it open and close. “What happened? Did your ex agree for you to see your child? Did he agree for you to spend Christmas with him?” He asked a barrage of questions the moment he saw that Autumn looked calmer.She moved to sit down, taking the same couch as him but leaving enough space between them. “I spoke to him,” she stated.“And?” he asked, impatience slipping into his voice.“He said I should come to the house tomorrow,” she answered, responding to his frantic questions.“What do you mean by that?” he asked again.She let out a soft sigh, gently caressing her knees as she spoke. “He is willing to consider it.” She took in a breath and continued slowly. “He is willing to let me see my son.”Ezra folded his arms across his chest and let out a tsk of disapproval. “I
They arrived home, the lively atmosphere they had left with now completely drained. Mostly because of Autumn’s mood. She was still shaking, quietly crying, with a few soft sniffles escaping every now and then.Ezra got out first, walked around to her side, and opened the door. He leaned down to face her.“Come on, Tum-Tum. Let’s get you inside. It’s cold out here,” he coaxed gently, wrapping an arm around her and leading her toward the building.They rode the elevator in silence, his arm never leaving her shoulders as he guided her to her floor. Once inside the apartment, he ushered her to the couch.He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of lukewarm water, hoping it would help with both the headache and the tears she had lost. He offered it to her and watched as she took it with trembling hands, then gulped it down quickly.“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly, sitting on the coffee table across from her and giving her his full attention.“I–it’s jus–t…”
The sound of doors opening and closing echoed through the room, signalling the arrival of another presence. Quiet footsteps moved in and out of spaces before the figure hovered over Autumn’s hunched form, face pressed close to hers.“Ezra, what are you doing?” Autumn asked, her gaze never straying from the laptop screen.“I wanted to know what had you so fixated on,” he said, stepping back to look at what she was working on. “It’s just boring old work stuff.”“Yes, this ‘boring old work stuff’ is what I love doing. It keeps me from going insane.” She waved a hand for emphasis, lightly mocking him.“Well, you don’t need to be cooped up in here. It’s kind of depressing,not helping much to lift your mood” He sat beside her, propping his chin on his hand while resting his elbow on the table. A small smile played on his lips as he watched her.“I don’t have to, but I want to. I can’t let you and Gusty do all the work while I sit on my ass,” she said, stopping what she was doing to look at
The day after the gala, the Headinberg estate was enveloped in a deceptive quiet. The morning sun filtered through the high windows, but the atmosphere inside was thick with the aftermath of the previous night’s revelations. In the morning room, the large television was tuned to the entertainment n
It had been two days since the wedding fiasco. Two days of radio silence from the outside world.While the media was undoubtedly setting itself on fire—speculating about Chloe, Fin, and Kingston Dynasty—we had been tucked away in the safety of the Headinberg estate. Eric had decided to work from ho
The morning sun filtered through the high windows of the estate, casting long, golden rectangles across the breakfast table. It was the first morning since the hospital that the air felt light. "Chloe, this will help you feel better," I said, gently setting down a bowl of special steaming porridge
The " Neon Light" motel she described was even grimmer up close. It was nearly midnight by the time Eric’s tires screeched into the cracked asphalt lot. The place looked like it had seen better days decades ago; now, it was just a graveyard for broken dreams and people who were hiding from life and







