LOGINAnna's POV I watched his face anxiously, unsure how the business genius of the Murphy family would react. To my surprise, he simply said, "I understand," his voice gentle but firm. He pulled me into an embrace, his hand stroking my hair. "I’Il explain to Grandpa William. But you might need to bring the children to Murphy Estate more often. He's getting older, and seeing his great-grandchildren brings him joy." I hadn't expected him to acquiesce so readily, without requiring excuses or justifications. A wave of warmth washed through me, and I instinctively tightened my arms around his waist. Thinking of everything this man had sacrificed for me, even undergoing a vasectomy, filled me with both gratitude and guilt. Yet the mere thought of marriage triggered an immediate resistance. The shadow of my previous marriage and concerns about the Murphy family's complex business relationships left me hesitant. "Don't worry about it anymore," he murmured, as if reading my thoughts. H
Mary's POV My throat constricted under Marcus's iron grip, panic flooding my system as I clawed at his hand. This wasn't the reserved younger brother I remembered-this was a stranger with murder in his eyes. "If I ever hear those words from your mouth again, you won't have a voice to speak with," he whispered, each syllable dripping with venom. Humiliation burned through me like acid. Despite our distant relationship, we shared blood. Yet here he was, choosing some outsider over family. "You're threatening me? Marcus Murphy, you'd treat your own sister this way for some second-hand_" The rest of my sentence died as his fingers tightened, cutting off my airflow. "Who's the outsider here?" His voice dropped even lower. "Anna is the woman I'm going to spend my life with. She's my wife, my family." With a disgusted shove, he released me. I collapsed onto the imported Persian rug, gasping for air. My lungs burned with each desperate breath, but my pride ached worse than my brui
Marcus's POV The moment I stepped through the Murphy Estate's grand entrance with Steven trailing behind me, William's walking cane came down hard across my shoulder. Pain shot through my body, but I remained silent. This punishment, I deserved. "You ungrateful son," William roared, his weathered face contorted with rage. "Why return now? After all this time!" Each blow of his cane sent fresh waves of pain through my body, but I stood my ground without complaint. The ornate hallway that had witnessed countless Murphy family gatherings now bore witness to this reckoning. Before William could continue, the commotion drew Phillip and his family from the drawing room. Catherine rushed forward while Simon stared curiously at Steven. "Whoa, is this Uncle Marcus's illegitimate kid?" Simon blurted out, eyeing Steven with undisguised interest. Catherine immediately smacked the back of his head. "Shut your mouth before I do it for you." "Hey! Stop hitting my head," Simon complai
Anna's POV I stared at the screen of my phone, zooming in on Benedict's latest photo. The soft curve of his brow, the gentle slope of his nose I traced them with my fingertip, my heart aching with a familiar emptiness. "Annie, I keep telling you, these video calls don't do him justice," I said to Elizabeth, who was folding baby clothes nearby. "Don't you think he has Marcus's eyes? There's something about his expression that feels so familiar." Elizabeth leaned over, squinting at the screen. "That's genetics for you. But honestly, I see more of you in him. Those eyes are pure Shaw-just like yours were at that age." A pang of longing shot through my chest, sharp and insistent. The weeks since Benedict's kidnapping and recovery had crawled by at an excruciating pace. November was drawing to a close, and despite Marcus's promise to return for Thanksgiving, each day felt like an eternity. "I miss him so much it hurts," I whispered, more to myself than to Elizabeth. Margare
Catherine suddenly grew quiet, resting her chin on my desk, her expression turning serious. After a moment of silence, she looked up, her eyes betraying uncertainty. "Annie, there's something I need to tell you." I was reviewing some documents and responded without looking up. "Go ahead." "I had some tests done," she said, her tone unusually grave. This immediately caught my attention. I set down my papers and leaned forward with concern. "What kind of tests? Are you feeling alright?" Catherine shrugged, trying to appear casual despite her obvious discomfort. "Nothing serious. Just had an ultrasound done. And it confirmed something - the scar on my abdomen isn't from an appendectomy like I've always been told. Just like yours, it's from a C-section." My heart skipped a beat, and I stared at her in disbelief. "Are you sure about this?" How could I be wrong? I confirmed it multiple times. The ultrasound technician even pointed out scarring on my uterus." Her voice was st
George's POV The antiseptic smell of the hospital room clawed at my nostrils, making each breath a reminder of my confinement. Sunlight streamed through the window, mocking me with its cheerfulness while my world collapsed around me. The morning nurse had just left after changing my IV when Pax delivered the news that felt like a second heart attack. "Mr. Simpson, Jack has resigned from Simpson Group. He's... he's left town." The words hit me like physical blows. My son. My only son. Gone. I stared at the ceiling, not trusting myself to speak. The betrayal cut deeper than the pneumonia that had ravaged my lungs, deeper than the hypothermia that had nearly killed me. I'd built everything for him—the empire, the connections, the legacy. And he'd thrown it all away. The door to my private room burst open with such force that the decorative vase on the side table rattled. Mary stormed in, her usually immaculate appearance disheveled, eyes wild with a fury I hadn't seen in y
I nearly dropped my phone, staring at those three simple words on the screen. My heart slammed against my ribs like it was trying to escape my chest. With trembling fingers, I hastily wrapped myself in my silk robe, not even bothering to call Lily for assistance. My damp hair clung to my neck a
Mary's POV My cheeks burned as Father's words cut through me like a serrated knife. How dare he scold me in front of everyone especially that insufferable Catherine? I straightened my silk blouse, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "I'm only trying to uphold the standards of this f
Anna's POV Sunlight streamed through the hospital window, casting a warm glow across Lucius's pale face. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the beeping monitors confirming what the doctors had told us—he'd survived the critical forty-eight hours. Relief washed over me like a gentle tide.
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







