LOGINAnna'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
Anna's POV The morning sunlight streamed through the bay windows as Catherine leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You won't believe what's happening at the Simpson house." I raised an eyebrow, cradling my herbal tea while trying to find a comfortable position on the plush sofa. At eight months pregnant with twins, comfort was becoming an increasingly foreign concept. "What now?" Mom asked, settling beside me with uncharacteristic eagerness. Ever since the incident at George's secret mansion, she'd developed a rather vindictive interest in Simpson family drama. Catherine's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Two women showed up at their doorstep yesterday, claiming George ruined their lives, stole their family fortunes, and-get this-maintained intimate relationships with them behind Mary's back for years." I nearly choked on my tea. "Seriously?" 'The women are threatening to sue," Catherine continued, popping a grape into her mouth. "And they're n
Anna's POV Morning sunlight streamed through the windows as I sipped my breakfast tea, Catherine's animated face filling my phone screen. Her enthusiasm for my budding relationship with Marcus had been relentless since the scandal at George's secret mansion. "You're awfully invested in this," I teased, setting down my cup. "Hoping for an extra wedding gift or something?" Catherine rolled her eyes dramatically. "Mary's practically foaming at the mouth over you two. I just want to see you married immediately so she can choke on her own bile." Her gleeful expression made it clear this wasn't entirely a joke. After ending the call, I caught Elizabeth and Margaret exchanging meaningful glances across the table. "Poor Catherine," Elizabeth sighed, absently stirring her tea. "Did you know she was once inseparable from that boyfriend of hers? If Mary hadn't interfered, Catherine might be married with children by now." Margaret nodded solemnly. "She wasn't always so... rebellious
Anna's POV "They've issued two critical condition notices," Sean said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "But they're still trying." He hesitated, eyes dropping to my protruding belly. "Perhaps you shouldn't go in. I can handle this. What if you accidentally get hurt..." I understood his concer
Anna's POV "Mine." The word left my lips with more confidence than I felt. I met Logan's gaze directly, desperately trying to appear unfazed while my heart pounded a thunderous rhythm against my ribcage. His expression shifted from shock to suspicion, eyes narrowing behind his frames. "Marcus M
Marcus's POV My fingers tightened around the tablet's edge until my knuckles blanched white. As if I needed the reminder._ "I'm well aware of the risks, Peter," I replied, my voice colder than I intended. "With all due respect, sir..." Peter hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "You've
Anna's POV "You didn't notice yesterday?" I countered, amused by his theatrics. He shrugged dramatically. "Why would I be staring at your stomach? Are you really pregnant or just putting on weight?" His hand reached out toward my belly. I slapped it away immediately. "Don't touch." Despite







