LOGINAnna’s POV:
I sat in the villa’s living room, legs crossed, the quiet elegance of the space offering a calm I didn’t feel. The door opened, and Rachel led Sean in. The young man who stepped inside was indeed the face I remembered from Olympus Club soft features, composed expression, respectful posture. But despite the familiar exterior, something felt... off. He wiped his hands on a white towel as he approached, his voice soft and formal. “Ms. Shaw, you’re here.” I studied him carefully. Clean-cut, well-mannered, and calm exactly how I remembered him. And yet, a faint thread of doubt tugged at me. Something didn’t line up. “Come, sit down. Let’s talk.” I smiled, masking the unease in my chest as I gestured to the armchair across from me. He sat gracefully, hands resting naturally on his legs, and his eyes met mine clear, steady, unbothered by status or wealth. That was what had drawn me to him in the first place at Olympus Club. That sense of comfort. Of quiet charm. But as the silence stretched, something stood out. I frowned. “Where are the servants? There’s no tea, no water...” Before Rachel could respond, Sean answered gently, “I dismissed the staff. I thought you might prefer privacy, Ms. Shaw. I apologize if I overstepped.” He stood before I could respond. “Allow me to make you a cup of coffee.” I blinked, slightly taken aback. While I demanded excellence in business, I was far more relaxed in my personal life. The villa was technically his space now if he wanted to run it like his own, I had no objections. I watched him move through the kitchen like he belonged there. When he returned, he set a delicate porcelain cup in front of me. One sip, and I raised my brows Macchiato, no sugar. Just the way I liked it. Impressive. He sat quietly across from me, hands in his lap again. Smart. Perceptive. Easy on the eyes. And clearly competent. I took another sip. “Have you quit smoking?” I asked, half-teasing, half-curious. He looked confused. “Ms. Shaw, I’ve never smoked.” My hand froze mid-air. A chill traced my spine. “Never?” I asked slowly. He shook his head, visibly confused now. “No. My father was diagnosed with lung cancer when I was sixteen. I’ve always stayed away from cigarettes.” I turned toward Rachel, my brows furrowed. Rachel, calm and composed as ever, nodded. “Ms. Shaw, it’s true. His mother passed two years ago. His father is terminal. He worked at an investment firm before switching to Olympus Club to pay the bills.” I felt the color drain from my face. No smoking. A lean frame. A soft-spoken voice. He wasn’t the man I’d slept with that night. The man from Olympus Club had been strong—his body hard, movements confident. He smelled of smoke and sandalwood. This wasn’t him. I had made a mistake. I stood. “Take off your shirt.” Sean hesitated. His cheeks flushed as he stood, clearly reluctant, but he didn’t protest. He began to unbutton his shirt with quiet compliance. When the last button fell away, my doubts were confirmed. His chest was smooth. Slender. Barely any muscle definition. I stepped forward, pressing a finger lightly against his chest, then squeezing his upper arm. Too soft. Too thin. Too fragile. The man I’d slept with had lifted me like I weighed nothing. Had moved like he could break me—and almost did. This body wasn’t capable of that. I had slept with the wrong person. How had I messed this up? I picked up my phone and shot a message to Catherine. Within moments, my phone buzzed with her call. “You really did sleep with the wrong guy?” she asked, bewildered. “I was drunk,” I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temple. “My memory’s foggy. I didn’t even look properly the next morning. I had to rush to that tea party.” “Oh, Anna…” Catherine groaned. “You’ve really done it now.” After hanging up, Rachel cleared her throat gently. “Ms. Shaw, Sean is still downstairs. How should we proceed?” I looked through the stair railing. He was still in the living room, shirt back on, standing awkwardly with his hands by his sides. I sighed. I had only taken him in because I thought he was that man. The one who'd rocked my world and left me breathless. But Sean… Sean was not that man. Still, Rachel’s voice cut into my thoughts, hesitant. “Ms. Shaw, the Olympus Club staff all know he was chosen by you. If you send him back now… he’ll be humiliated. Once someone is sent back, they’re never chosen again. His reputation will be destroyed.” I hadn’t considered that. A mistake on my part had given him a thread of hope and now I was about to take it away. That wasn’t just careless. It was cruel. I looked down at Sean’s worried expression, his gaze full of uncertainty. He had no idea how close he was to losing everything. A moment of silence passed. Then I made my decision. I walked down the stairs, heels echoing on the marble. “Sean, you can stay.” His eyes widened in disbelief. “Ms. Shaw…?” “Rachel,” I said, not breaking eye contact with him, “get in touch with the best hospitals in the city. Specialists, treatment programs whatever his father needs. I’ll cover the cost.” Sean’s eyes shimmered, and for a second, his lips parted like he couldn’t find the words. “Thank you,” he said finally, voice barely above a whisper. I gave him a small nod, then turned away. He wasn’t the man I thought he was. But maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.Marcus's POV I stood frozen, watching Anna's profile in the afternoon sunlight. Seeing her again aroused of emotion through me so powerful I nearly staggered. My children—our twins—were growing inside her, and she had no idea I knew. "Just picking up some medication for my father," I said smoothly, forcing my voice to remain casual. "He's feeling a bit under the weather today." Elizabeth Shaw studied me with barely concealed suspicion, her protective stance beside Anna speaking volumes. “We just finished Anna's checkup. She was feeling a bit dizzy this morning." My chest tightened with concern. I wanted to step forward, to offer my arm for support, to be the one she leaned on. Instead, I maintained my careful distance, this charade of polite interest killing me by inches. "Would you like me to recommend a specialist? I have connections here." Murphy Global owned a significant stake in this hospital. "How's William doing? Is it serious?" Anna asked, her genuine concern fo
Over the following month, reports flowed in daily as Doyle's empire crumbled piece by piece. His businesses, properties, and networks fell into my hands or dissolved entirely. His allies were bought, intimidated, or eliminated. His financial resources were frozen or appropriated. Anna's POV I lay back on the examination table, trying to ignore the cold gel spreading across my abdomen as the doctor maneuvered the ultrasound wand with practiced precision. The monitor beside us flickered with grainy black and white images—my twins, their tiny forms becoming clearer with each passing week. "These babies will likely have prominent nose bridges definitely beautiful features in the making," the doctor smiled, her fingers rapidly recording data on the keyboard. My nose bridge isn't particularly high, so they must take after their father. Unbidden, my mind conjured the half-profile I'd glimpsed that morninghis nose bridge was indeed prominent. Then, Marcus Murphy's image suddenly i
"Is that what you believe?" I stared at Doyle, my voice cutting through the night air like a blade. "Your sister's feelings were entirely one-sided. I never led her on. In fact, I explicitly rejected her advances numerous times." The wind whipped around us, carrying the scent of salt and decay from the rocks below. Doyle's face contorted with rage, his knuckles white around his gun. "But she died because of you!" he screamed, his voice cracking with raw emotion. "She died right in front of you! How do you sleep at night? Doesn't her ghost haunt you?' A cold sensation spread through my chest, but not from fear. Id long ago made peace with what happened. I wasn't responsible for her choices, however tragic the outcome. "My conscience is clear," I replied, my tone as frigid as the night air. I could feel Peter's tension beside me, but my focus remained locked on Doyle. Seeing Doyle's unhinged fury, I recognized he'd passed the point of rational thought. His unpredictability m
Marcus's POV I crouched down and yanked the rag from Doyle's mouth, maintaining a calculated distance. His response was predictable—a glob of saliva launched in my direction. I sidestepped it with practiced ease, my expression unchanged while disgust and cold fury bubbled beneath the surface. Peter's reaction was immediate. He rushed forward and stomped his foot onto Doyle's face, grinding down with barely restrained rage. 'Trust me, I'll kill you," Doyle growled, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. His eyes burned with hatred, voice distorted by pain but unmistakably threatening. "Unless you kill me today, I'll murder your entire family." I stared down at him, murderous intent rising within me while maintaining my glacial exterior. Peter increased the pressure of his foot, his voice dropping to match the temperature of my gaze. "Family is off-limits, Doyle. You want to break the rules?" Blood trickled from Doyle's mouth as his eyes locked onto mine with sinister i
Anna's POV The woman standing beside Catherine in our living room looked like she'd stepped out of a medical journal-crisp linen shirt tucked into tailored pants, not a single blonde hair out of place in her tight bun. Her posture screamed professional discipline. "Elizabeth, I heard you were looking for a nutritionist. I've brought someone for you to meet," Catherine announced proudly. "This is Betty." My mother and I exchanged glances as Catherine continued with Betty's impressive resume. When she mentioned that Betty had just returned from Europe where she'd been caring for actual royalty, my eyebrows shot up involuntarily. "You cared for royal family members?" I couldn't hide my surprise. Betty nodded modestly. "Yes, though I'm bound by confidentiality agreements regarding specifics." Mom's face lit up like Christmas morning. "This is wonderful! " I watched Mom circle Betty, peppering her with questions about prenatal nutrition and childhood development. Her enth
Anna's POV William Murphy had insisted I sit beside him at the head table rather than join my mother at her assigned seating. This special treatment wasn't lost on anyone present. "This child needs proper nutrition. She must eat more," William announced, gesturing to a server. "Don't make her feel embarrassed—our Anna is quite modest." His affectionate tone made my cheeks burn as a server immediately appeared with another serving of roasted vegetables. I sipped water to hide my discomfort. Being singled out in a room full of Skyview City's elite wasn't exactly my idea of a relaxing evening. "Indeed, no wonder you value her so highly. Such a capable young woman," remarked a silver-haired business magnate seated across from us, his eyes crinkling with appreciation. Another chimed in, "Young people must keep up their strength. Eat well, my dear." William beamed proudly, as if I were his own granddaughter. When the seafood course arrived, his smile widened even further. "Th







