LOGINFor seven years, Nadia McCoy has been dead. That's what Alexander Stone believes. Nadia made sure he believed it. She disappeared without an explanation, taking the biggest secret of their relationship with her: the son he never knew existed. She didn't leave because she stopped loving Alexander. She left because she had no choice. Seven years later, Nadia has built a quiet life for herself and her son, keeping her identity hidden and doing everything she can to forget the man she once loved. Then Alexander finds her. --- “Choke back those pathetic little tears, my kitty. Save them for when you're begging me to stop, because this everyday torment is your entire existence now.” --- The Alexander Nadia remembered was nothing like this. Now he's married, more powerful, and ruthless. After believing she was dead for seven years, he isn't willing to lose her twice. He wants answers, but he's no longer asking nicely. The more Nadia resists, the harder he pushes. He's determined to break through every boundary she puts between them. He's married. She knows she should stay away. But the man she loved is still buried beneath all that anger. Nadia knows why she disappeared. She knows who she was running from. Alexander doesn't. And she has no intention of telling him.
View MoreMy hands kept moving as I folded his shirts, trousers, underwear, toys, books, and a few of his favorite things. “Where exactly are you going?” “I don't know yet.” I glanced at Orson and sighed. “I just know I can't stay here.” James eyed my packing with an expression that suggested he hadn't imagined everything rushing ahead so quickly. “Jackie, you don't even have somewhere booked.” “I'll figure it out.” I shocked myself with how sure I sounded—and I terrified him, considering he’d never witnessed this anxious, guarded version of me. I zipped the bag closed and faced him. “I have to make sure he's safe first. Everything else can come later.” James looked toward Orson, then back at me. “Jackie, let me help you.” I shook my head. “No, James. You've already done more than enough for me.” Jame didn't argue, but the concern in his eyes told me he wasn't going to let the matter rest. “Come here, sunshine.” Orson left his food and came closer, looking up at me with those trusti
James set the food down before crouching in front of Orson and handing him one of the packs.I glanced at Orson, who was happily eating the food James had brought. He had abandoned the sandwich I made for him the moment James opened the containers, choosing a plate of fried rice with grilled chicken, spring rolls, and a small portion of his restaurant’s signature barbecue wings instead.“I brought enough for both of you,” James said when he caught me watching. Orson nodded enthusiastically while reaching for another spring roll. “He likes it,” he said.“He clearly does.” A small smile tugged at my lips before I looked back at him. “Thank you, James.”“Thank you, James,” Orson said after me with his mouth full. He was the biggest foodie in the world.“You're welcome, little man,” he replied, grinning.They did a familiar funny handshake. Then James ruffled his hair just like a father would do to his son. However, he wasn't Orson’s father. And he could never be. I watched them for a m
I squeezed my eyes shut and heaved a deep breath before I reached for the light switch.The room came alive, revealing the clothes scattered across my bed.My stomach twisted as memories of that night came rushing back so quickly that I had to grip the doorframe.I recalled leaving this apartment convinced I could handle whatever came next. I shivered when I thought back to the fear, the humiliation, the helplessness, and everything I had endured before Alex appeared.Coming back here made the memories feel frighteningly close again.I looked away, refusing to let it consume me again.Orson was still beside me, quietly taking in the room, and I forced myself to breathe. I couldn't afford to fall apart in front of him.My thoughts returned to James. He had helped me more times than I cared to remember. Whenever money became tight or Orson needed something I couldn't afford, he had been the person I could turn to, and he never made me feel ashamed for asking, even when I knew I was al
Orson walked beside me, his small fingers wrapped around mine while his eyes kept drifting back toward the estate. I knew he wasn’t expecting us to leave so suddenly. I knew he already liked Alex. My heart felt heavier with guilt towards my boy. He didn't deserve to live in the slums with me. His father was Alexander Stone and he should be living in a big house where the staff would address him as the “young master.” Would he ever understand my decision? Or would he hate me for keeping his wealthy father from him? “Mommy, are we going home?” “Yes, baby,” I said, wiping the tears from my cheeks before he could see how badly I was struggling. “We're going home.” Before this place, home had never meant a single address. Staying anywhere too long felt dangerous. Every familiar face became a possible threat, every unexpected question made me wonder if someone had discovered that the woman they believed was dead had been living among them. I couldn't afford to become comfortable. I






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