LOGINHis eyes darkened dangerously. I should have recognized the warning, but years of resentment had made me reckless. The slap came without warning, the crack of his palm against my cheek echoing in our bedroom. My head snapped sideways, shock momentarily paralyzing me. "You struck me?" I whispered, raising trembling fingers to my burning skin. In these years of marriage, through countless arguments and disappointments, he had never once raised a hand to me. George's lips curved into a cruel smile. "What now? Going to run crying to daddy Murphy? Don't bother. They've got bigger problems than you right now." Something in his tone sent ice through my veins. "What are you talking about?" He watched me with predatory satisfaction. "Marcus is dead. That news will reach the Murphy family soon enough. Let's see if your father, who always favored everyone over you, can withstand this blow." "What did you say?" The room spun around me, gravity suddenly unreliable. "Marcus is... de
Anna's POV I traced idle patterns on my swollen belly, smiling as one of the twins responded with a forceful kick against my palm. This silent conversation had become our daily ritual, these precious moments of connection before they entered the world. "Marcus, today can you do a video call? I want to show you my belly-the babies seem more active than ever," I asked softly, hoping to finally see his face after days of just hearing his voice. "Not convenient right now. I'm in a meeting. Later, alright?" His voice sounded tired but still carried that warmth reserved only for me. I swallowed my disappointment, forcing brightness into my voice. 'Sure... you go ahead with your work. Take care of yourself." As I hung up, a sigh escaped my lips while something cold and uneasy slithered through my chest. The past week had followed the same pattern—Marcus answering calls but never available for video. It wasn't like him, but I kept my concerns locked away, unwilling to voice them
Anna's POV The pristine array of baby items spread across the Shaw Estate's sun-drenched terrace made my heart swell with anticipation. I carefully folded a cashmere onesie-ridiculously expensive for something that would inevitably be covered in spit-up and added it to the meticulously organized pile. I smiled, snapping another photo of the miniature leather shoes Elizabeth had insisted were "absolutely necessary" despite my protests that newborns don't exactly need footwear. I sent the picture to Marcus, watching as the "delivered" notification appeared beneath it. That made five unanswered messages today. "He's probably tied up in meetings," Elizabeth offered, noticing my furrowed brow. "The time difference makes communication difficult." I nodded, swallowing the irrational worry rising like bile in my throat. Marcus always replied promptly about anything related to the twins. Always. --- By midnight, the unease had crystallized into something sharper. I lay in be
Lucy's POV Jack's body went rigid beneath me, his eyes turning to ice as recognition dawned. "Get off me." His voice sliced through the dim room, devoid of any warmth. I didn't move. Something about the vulnerability in his face-even as he rejected me-made me bold. He'd been drinking himself into oblivion over Anna Shaw again. The thought made my chest ache. "Jack, please," I whispered, my fingers trembling as they reached for his face. "Let me be here for you. I can help you forget her." He recoiled from my touch as if burned, pushing himself up against the headboard. "I said get off." The coldness in his tone cut deeper than any shouted insult could have. My heart hammered against my ribs, desperation rising like floodwater. Anna Shaw had everything-money, status, a thriving company, Marcus Murphy's protection, and even Jack's undying devotion. What did I have? Nothing but the feelings threatening to burst from my chest. "She doesn't love you," I said, my voice
Lucy's POV I watched with barely disguised disgust as Mary Simpson paced back and forth in her expensive heels on the perfectly manicured gravel driveway of Murphy Estate, hurling accusations at the door that refused to open for her. "How dare they? I am William's daughter!" The carefully selected gifts now lay scattered across the ground where she'd thrown them in her rage. Such waste. Such stupidity. Mary had never truly understood her position. Yes, she was born a Murphy, but she had married into the Simpson family. Murphy wealth had elevated George from a nobody to someone of consequence. William and Phillip had given him connections, and this was how Mary repaid that generosity— burning bridges when she needed them most. I maintained my concerned, loyal expression as I bent down to pick up the gifts. My dress might get dirty from the gravel, but appearances mattered more than clothing right now. "Mrs. Simpson, please," I called softly, brushing dirt from a box of choc
"No, please," I laughed, shaking my head. "If you send more people, I won't even be allowed to lift my own spoon at mealtimes." Catherine bounded over, champagne flute in hand. "Grandpa, if Anna doesn't want the extra help, I'll take it! Id love someone to feed me grapes all day." Layla shot her daughter a reproving look. "Be quiet before you give your brother any ideas." The warmth in the room was palpable, wrapping around me like a protective blanket. These people had become my family in ways I'd never anticipated. The thought brought a lump to my throat—a mix of gratitude and something like longing. Just as William was regaling us with stories of Catherine's childhood antics, the elderly butler appeared at the doorway, his expression unusually tense. "Sir," he said, his voice carefully measured. "Miss Mary has returned." Mary's POV My knuckles turned white as I gripped the custom-made bag in my hands, staring up at the imposing facade of Murphy Estate. The ancestr
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 smoot
Anna's POV Deep down, I was certain Marcus Murphy wouldn't return. My thoughts drifted back to Christmas when I'd traveled all the way to Europe to find him, only to be met with silence and rejection. That memory still stung, a wound I refused to acknowledge but couldn't quite ignore. The myste
Catherine's POV Where the hell is Anna? My fingers drummed against the auction paddle I hadn't yet needed to raise. The Skylake District lot would be up soon-the crown jewel of today's offerings. Without Anna here to lead our consortium's bidding strategy, everything we'd worked for hung in jeo
Anna's POV My spine stiffened instantly. "I'd rather not discuss Marcus Murphy." The mention of his name felt like salt in a wound that refused to heal. After his rejection in Europe, I'd locked away any lingering feelings, determined never to be that vulnerable again. Catherine quickly drew an







