LOGINLucien Lucien stood on the hotel balcony with two coffees going cold in his hands. Below him, the Bali morning was unrolling in soft gold, with palms bending in the breeze, white surf folding onto black sand, and a fisherman walking the shoreline like he had nowhere else to be. It was the most beautiful view he'd ever seen. He barely noticed it. For the first time in more than a year, no phone was buzzing in his pocket. No Patrick, no board members, no sibling from hell causing trouble. He had turned it off the moment they landed, and he hadn't missed it once. Six months had passed since the night Michelle was born— months of sleepless nights, of paperwork and hospital meetings, of Eveline asleep on his shoulder at three in the morning with a baby between them. He stepped back through the glass doors and into the cool, dim hotel room. Eveline was awake. She lay in the middle of the huge white bed with the sheets tangled around her waist and her hair spilled across the
Eveline Eveline had been told, repeatedly, that she would know. Belinda had said it. Dr. Marlowe had said it. A stranger in the pharmacy aisle had patted her stomach and said it with great confidence. “Don't worry, honey, you'll just know.” As a health professional, Eveline had always privately thought it was a ridiculous thing to say. She was standing in front of the bedroom mirror, one hand pressed to the small of her back, when she found out they were right. It was a Friday night, two months after the hospital, and she was nine days from her due date. Marlowe had assured her the baby was nowhere near ready. So Lucien had booked a table at the restaurant on the pier, the one with candles in glass jars and a view of the water, and Eveline had spent forty minutes wrestling herself into the navy dress he'd pretended not to like because he liked it too much. She'd gotten as far as one heel, half the zipper, and one side of her hair pinned up. The mascara on her left eye w
Lucien The conference room had never felt so crowded. Ten department heads sat around the long table, every one of them holding a folder and wearing the same careful expression. It was the look of people who had survived a storm and weren’t sure the sky had finished with them yet. Lucien stood at the head of the table with his hands braced on the back of a chair. He hadn’t sat down once in forty minutes. “Let me make sure I understand,” he said, looking at the woman from finance. “The supplier contract with Callahan’s subsidiary was signed eight months ago. And in eight months, nobody on your team asked why we were paying triple the market rate for gauze.” She shifted in her seat. “The invoices were approved at the administrator level, Dr. Roswood. Mr. Vanbeek signed off on all of them.” “I’m sure he did.” Nobody laughed. Nobody had the nerve to. Lucien exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t angry at the people in this room. Most of them had been sca
Eveline “When is that handsome young man of yours going to walk you down the aisle?” Belinda took Eveline’s arm as she walked past, pulling her into the nurses station. She dragged a chair close, gesturing for her to sit herself and her bulging bump down. “Is he waiting until the baby comes?” She asked as she leaned against the table, her arms folded. “I know I should’ve pestered him before you started showing.” Eveline doubted it would’ve worked. How many months did they have between Gerald’s case and Peter showing up? A wedding arrangement would’ve taken months—and the past few months had been anything but calm. Things were just starting to go back to normal and she was going on a vacation with Lucien pretty soon. “Technically,” she corrected, with a small laugh, “—it’s Jonah who gets to walk me down the aisle. Lucien’s job is to stand by the officiating minister and look pretty.” Belinda snorted as she laughed, patting Eveline’s arm. “It’s your wedding. You’re the one
Lucien Lucien slipped out of the room once Eveline was asleep again, walking into the hallway with his phone in hand, a number already dialing. Jonah was inside, watching over his daughter and there was a cop l positioned outside the door, making sure the wrong person didn’t get in. Vanbeek. He was the wrong person. Peter had been arrested because Powell was more than willing to give enough evidence and testimony for the police to charge him with something. But they needed Vanbeek to tie everything together. He wasn’t at the location Powell gave. The staff picked him out easily, but they said he’d gone twenty minutes before Lucien showed up. He looked like he was in a hurry. Lucien thought Powell had ratted him out, but one firm shake of the older man, with Lucien’s fingers wrapped around his neck—and he was convinced Edward wasn’t the reason Vanbeek was in such a hurry. Finding Eveline. His chest tightened as the phone buzzed, waiting for the person at the other end to pick
EvelineThe room was so quiet that Eveline could hear every small sound her own body made.The uneven rhythm of her breathing, the faint rustle of her clothes whenever she shifted on the thin mattress, even the pounding of her heart seemed painfully loud inside the old building. She had been sitting there for what felt like hours, her knees pulled close to her chest as she stared at the locked door, trying to think of a way out without knowing how many men were outside it.She kept thinking about Lucien.About their baby. Her hand slowly moved over her stomach, and her throat tightened as she imagined the life growing inside her, completely unaware of the danger around. “Please be okay,” she whispered, her fingers pressing gently against her stomach as tears gathered in her eyes. “Please, baby. You have to be okay.”She couldn’t let herself think about what Peter might do. She kept telling herself that Lucien was looking for her. He was going to check in at the coast house and whe
Eveline The key turned with a muffled click, a sound drowned by the one that stopped Eveline cold in the foyer. It wasn’t the television as she’d thought. It was a low, rhythmic wet sound, punctuated by a sharp guttural gasp she knew intimately. His gasp. Her overnight bag slipped from her numb
“Miss Storm.” Eveline stood rooted to the spot as he walked into the room, a polite smile on his lips. He walked over to her, stretching out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Roswood. I’ll be handling your father’s case.” She couldn’t say a word. Her lips wouldn’t move and her brain wen
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Eveline rushed out, panting softly. She’d run through the parking lot—from the free spot she found to park her car, through the hospital lobby, narrowly avoiding a man in a wheelchair and an IV hooked to his arm, barely making it into the elevator be
Eveline pinched the card between her fingers as she spun around, hiding it behind her back. Her heart thumped behind her ribcage, and from the way he was staring at her, she was almost certain he could hear it. Lucien’s lips twitched with a flat smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s not how yo







