Sienna’s POV“Mummy!!!!” Ava squeals as she runs up to me from the airport, followed by her calm brother Chris. My mum wasn’t with them—she had to stay back with Ryan, which was understandable. This was my fight, not theirs.“My baby…” I say, lifting Ava up as she asks me to spin her around. I do, and she squeals again, full of energy. She was such a hassle, my little fire.“Mummy.” Chris’s quiet voice comes next. I bend to lift him up too. He was so different from his sister—silent, calculating, colder than any four-year-old should be. While Ava was trouble, the fire, Chris was the calm in the storm.“Big guy,” I say, pecking his cheek.“Mummy, you’ll show me around, right?” Ava tugs my sleeve.“Of course, baby.” I smile. Then I turn to my mum and give her a hug. She rubs my back gently, her presence always grounding me.“Mummy, let’s go, let’s go!” Ava squeals again. She was so noisy, so vibrant, making me forget, even for a moment, the chaos of my world. But deep down, I knew the q
I stared at him, my mind cut off. Nic was standing in front of me, looking like he never aged—looking sexier, more powerful. His shirt was half-buttoned, chest exposed, revealing tattoos I couldn’t remember him having before. He bent down, picking up the phone.“Mum—” I heard Chris’s voice.“Who is he?” Chris asked again.“Let me see,” Ava’s voice chimed in. “He looks just like you.”My heart dropped. I quickly snatched the phone from him, cutting the call. Nic’s face shifted into something I couldn’t quite read—longing. Like he wanted to see them. Like he wanted to belong in their lives.“What are you doing here?” I asked, the thought pounding in my head that this might be a setup to drag me back into his world.“Three fucking years, Sienna. Three years you denied me my kids,” he said, his voice trembling with rage.I said nothing. Guilt clawed at me. I had left for the sake of my children—I wanted them to have peace, not a life filled with chaos.“I want to see them,” he demanded, h
⸻Sienna’s POVI stared out the plane window, my head throbbing as I waved off the stewardess offering me a drink.When the call from my father came earlier, asking to see me, I couldn’t refuse. We had searched for him for three years with no trace, and suddenly—just like that—he reached out. He promised to explain everything in person.Leaving wasn’t easy. My children needed me. But if finding him meant I could finally bring him back home with us, I had to go. My plan was simple: find Dad, take him back, and start fresh together.I wasn’t here to stay.The plane landed, and airline staff helped me with my luggage. I’d told Mum this was a short business trip—just a few days. She believed me. She always did.Later, in the hotel room, I pressed my palm against the large window, looking out at the city that had once broken me. The city I swore I’d never return to. It had given me love and chaos, and it had taken more than it ever gave back.I sipped my wine, exhaling, then grabbed my pho
3 Years Later—Sienna’s POV—The morning breeze slipped softly through my window, carrying warmth as the sun settled into its rightful place. Laughter and squeals filled the air, tugging me from sleep.“Mum! Mummy!” a tiny voice shouted as the bed bounced beneath me. “Chris said I can’t be a ballerina!”I opened my eyes to see Ava’s pouty face. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t listen to him. You can be whatever you want.” I pulled her close, kissing her cheeks. “And good morning.”“Good morning, Mummy.” Another voice joined in. I turned to see Chris standing by the door, his gray eyes—so much like his father’s—watching me.“Hi, my angel,” I whispered, smiling at him. Every time I looked at Chris, I saw Nic. The same eyes, the same quiet intensity. Even his messy black hair reminded me of him. No matter how much time passed, I couldn’t forget Nic—his touch, his dominance, the way he held me. It had been three years since I walked away from him, starting over here with Mum and Ann.My father had
Nic’s POVIt’s been days since she left. Days that feel like years. I’ve been haggard, restless, drowning in whiskey and silence. I launched an investigation—she’s no longer in France. No trace, no footprint, nothing. It’s as if she disappeared into thin air.The half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the table in front of me. I reached for it, taking another burning gulp, my eyes fixed on the folded white note that had been haunting me since the hospital.I hadn’t opened it. Not until now. Part of me was terrified—terrified of what her words might do to me. But finally, with shaking hands, I unfolded it.Her handwriting hit me like a knife.**“My Nic,By the time you read this, I will already be gone. Please don’t come looking for me—I beg you. This isn’t goodbye out of hate, but out of love. I gave you my heart, my soul, and no matter what, a part of me will always belong to you.But I’ve realized I cannot keep drowning in the chaos we’ve created. My heart longs for peace, for quiet da
Sienna’s POVI told him I wanted to see my father, to know how he was. Nic agreed without hesitation. At first, I tried to convince him not to come, told him I would be fine on my own. But of course, he refused. It was Nic—he always did whatever he wanted.After bathing and getting dressed, we arrived at the hospital. The moment I stepped inside, that sharp, sterile smell hit me. I hated it instantly. Cold. Suffocating. A mix of disinfectant and metal that clung to my lungs no matter how I tried not to breathe it in. To me, it was the smell of pain, of fear, of memories you wanted to forget but never could. The walls might have been white and clean, but the smell made everything heavy, as if hope was fragile here, and heartbreak lived in the air.My head throbbed faintly.“Are you okay?” my dad asked softly, his weak eyes fixed on me.“Yes. Just need some water,” I said, glancing at Nic. He understood without a word.“I’ll be right back,” he said, and walked out.The second the door c