Chapter 4: Found Her at Last

(Lyra’s POV)

“You look like you belong on a magazine cover,” someone whispered behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder. A woman on the bus was staring at me, eyes wide with admiration. Another leaned forward from her seat and added, “She’s glowing. Even with that baby bump, she looks radiant.”

I offered a small smile and shifted uncomfortably in my seat, adjusting the hem of my cardigan to cover the tight stretch of my belly.

“How far along are you?” a third woman asked, her voice warm and curious.

“Eight months,” I replied gently, resting my hands over the life growing inside me.

There were murmurs of congratulations and motherly advice as the chatter moved away from me, and I stared out the window, watching the narrow, dusty road roll beneath us. The bus rocked gently with every turn. It was strange how calm everything felt. It was the first time in months I hadn’t been constantly looking over my shoulder.

But I shouldn’t have let my guard down.

Meanwhile, two hours away, in the luxury cabin of his private jet, Rhys Maddox sat stiffly with a cigarette between his fingers, watching the clouds blur past the window.

His jaw was clenched, his mind working like a storm beneath still waters. Six months. Six entire months of searching. Every city, every lead, every dead end. And finally—finally—someone had found me.

He had barely spoken when the call came through. Just a simple sentence: “We’ve located your wife.”

He didn’t ask for confirmation. He didn’t ask how. He just said, “Send me the address.” Then hung up, tossed the file on his desk, and packed.

Now, as the jet cut through the sky toward a remote village called Moonreach, the man I ran from was getting closer with every passing mile.

We had spent the morning in the county for my final checkup. The doctor said the baby was healthy but that I needed to monitor my iron levels. I nodded and promised to rest more.

Elridge, my classmate and only confidante in this quiet mountain town, insisted on treating me to lunch before we returned. She had been my anchor these past months—kind, reliable, and never once prying into the questions I didn’t want to answer.

After lunch, we shopped for more baby clothes, even though I already had enough. I kept telling myself I just wanted to be prepared, but deep down I knew it was more than that. I needed to believe that I could do this—that I could raise this child alone.

By 2:00 p.m., we were heading back to the village in a worn-down van. The road was muddy from a recent rain, and the trip was slow. I leaned against the window, humming softly as the baby moved.

“He’s active today,” I murmured.

Elridge chuckled beside me. “Probably just excited to get home.”

But the moment the van turned the final bend toward the village entrance, my breath caught.

Four sleek off-road vehicles were parked just ahead, their black-tinted windows gleaming like a row of panthers. It was a sight that didn’t belong here. Not in this quiet place. Not among the goats and camellias.

My heart stopped.

No. Not yet. Please, not now.

Rhys sat in the second vehicle, watching the path like a predator waiting for his prey to re-emerge.

She’s been hiding in this backwater village all along. He hated how long it had taken him to find me, but now that he was here, the wait almost didn’t matter. He would have his answer. And his revenge.

He lit another cigarette, the smoke curling through the open window. His thoughts swirled like the haze around him—memories, rage, betrayal.

How dare she run with my child.

His gaze flicked to the dusty road just in time to catch sight of a van pulling up to the small house the locals had pointed him toward.

A figure stepped out.

Even after half a year, he recognized me instantly.

Elridge helped me down carefully. My body was slower, heavier now, but I moved as fast as I could. I felt eyes on me. Too many. Too sharp.

When I turned my head, I saw him.

Standing beside one of the black SUVs, tall and dressed in black, the same man I had once called my husband.

His face was unreadable, but his presence was a force all its own. He looked at me like he was staring at a ghost—or maybe a possession that had finally turned up after being stolen.

Our eyes met.

I froze.

Elridge’s voice was distant. “Lyra? Are you okay?”

No. I’m not.

Rhys’s POV

She looked different. Not broken, not bruised. Just… real. Her face was calmer, softer somehow, despite the weight she carried in front of her.

She looked like she belonged to another world. A quiet one.

And yet, here she was. In my sights. After all this time.

My lips curled slightly as I step

ped out of the car.

“Running’s over, Lyra.”