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103. THE FIRST CHOICE

Author: Frya Isaac
last update publish date: 2026-05-02 22:46:56

The room inside Wolfe Tower had become a command center lit by screens and dread. Every monitor showed the same image.

Harris Clarke sat in a metal chair in a concrete room, immaculate as ever in a charcoal coat, one ankle resting over the other as if he were attending a private board meeting instead of orchestrating psychological warfare.

Beside him, Vanessa was tied to another chair. Her wrists were bound behind her back. A strip of silver tape crossed one shoulder where she had clearly fo
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  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   155. THE MIDNIGHT AIRLIFT

    The flashing of the camera lenses didn’t stop until the heavy, reinforced steel gates of JFK’s private executive terminal slammed shut behind them. Even through the tinted windows of Adrian’s armored Maybach, the blinding white strobes of the paparazzi felt like physical blows. The media bloodhounds of New York had smelled water in the corporate shark tank, and they were desperate for a single picture of Lydia and the billionaire who had rewritten the laws of the city to protect her and their son. "Mommy? Look! Big plane!" The sweet, high-pitched toddler voice instantly shattered the suffocating tension inside the vehicle. Lydia snapped out of her daze, forcing her rigid facial muscles into a bright, warm smile as she looked down at Hayes. Her four-year-old boy was strapped securely into his custom leather car seat, his large, dark eyes blinking up at her with complete, unbothered excitement. He pointed his small, chubby finger out the window, clutching a plush dinosaur in his

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   154. THE MIDNIGHT AFFIDAT

    He didn't wait for her to answer. Adrian reached down, his powerful arms sliding effortlessly beneath her knees and waist, lifting her from the stool into his massive chest. Lydia let out a soft gasp, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, burying her face into the soft cashmere of his sweater as he carried her down the long, dimly lit corridor toward their master suite. The bedroom was a sanctuary of soft, cream-colored fabrics and dim, warm lighting. The massive king-size bed was lined with the finest Egyptian cotton sheets, smelling faintly of the same warm vanilla scent that Adrian had infused into her office. He laid her down with absolute gentleness, as if she were the most precious, fragile porcelain in the world. He climbed in beside her, his large frame instantly bringing a massive, enveloping heat to the bed. Adrian pulled her back against him, his powerful chest anchoring her spine, his long legs tangling with hers beneath the heavy duvet. His large, warm hand

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   153. THE SANCTUARY OF HIS ARMS

    "Calm your aristocratic nerves, Jessica," Vanessa purred, her eyes scanning the handwritten notes from Lydia's former primary psychiatrist. "The emergency warrant was always just a test to see how Adrian would deploy his legal defense. The real weapon is sitting right here in my lap. I just spent the last forty-eight hours negotiating with Dr. Silas Evans—Lydia's old primary doctor from that facility on the outskirts of New York." There was a sudden, sharp silence on the other end of the line. "The doctor? Is he willing to cooperate?" "Every man has a price, Jessica, especially a doctor who has been living under the radar with an expired medical license due to hidden malpractice claims," Vanessa chuckled, her voice filled with a cold, triumphant satisfaction. “For the right price, Dr. Evans is more than willing to sign a comprehensive, sworn affidavit stating that Lydia Hart suffered from chronic, irreversible delusional psychosis during her stay at his facility. He is prepared

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   152. THE DEFEATED STUNT

    "Look what I brought for you, sweetheart!" Jessica said, stepping onto the school sidewalk, her smile widening as the photographers behind her began clicking their shutters in rapid succession, capturing every single angle of her approaching the boy. "I know how much you love engineering, and since your mother has been so... busy at the Wolfe Group corporate offices lately, I thought I would come by and take you out for a wonderful lunch. We can go to that private toy store on Fifth Avenue, just like your father used to do." The other parents and school administrators on the sidewalk stopped, their eyes widening as they recognized the prominent Sterling heiress. The photographers continued to snap pictures, creating a perfectly orchestrated media narrative: a devoted, loving aunt stepping in to care for a neglected child whose mother was too occupied with a billionaire CEO to notice. But before Jessica could take another step toward the boy, the air around the driveway shifted.

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   151. THE SHADOWS OF RIVERVIEW

    Lydia didn't even lift her head. She knew the heavy, powerful cadence of those footsteps without looking. Adrian walked into the room, his expression instantly softening the moment his eyes fell upon her small, fragile form huddled on the massive sofa. The cold, ruthless billionaire who had just terrified forty of the country's top lawyers vanished, replaced by a man deeply, fiercely in love, and fiercely protective. He walked over, his long strides silent against the Calacatta marble, and sank onto the velvet cushions beside her. Without a word, he reached out, his large, warm hands gently gripping her ankles, pulling her legs across his lap so he could wrap his powerful arms around her waist, pulling her back against his solid, heat-radiating chest. "You're shaking, my love," Adrian murmured, his deep, rich baritone vibrating directly against her shoulder blades as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the side of her neck. Lydia let out a shaky, trembling breath, finally lett

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   150. THE CUSTODY WARNING

    The atmosphere inside the primary conference room of the Wolfe Group’s legal wing wasn’t just tense; it felt like the precise microsecond before a lightning strike. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the Manhattan skyline was shifting into the deep, bruised purple of early twilight. Inside, Adrian Wolfe sat at the head of a massive obsidian conference table, his presence so massive and suffocating that none of the sixteen senior legal partners sitting around him dared to breathe too loudly. Adrian hadn't yelled. He hadn't thrown a single object. His anger was a rare, terrifying phenomenon—it was absolute, sub-zero ice. He had shed his designer suit jacket, his charcoal vest tightly hugging his broad shoulders, his sleeves rolled up precisely to his forearms, revealing the thick veins pulsing against his skin. His large, powerful hands were flat against the obsidian surface, his dark eyes locked onto Vance, the head of his global litigation empire. "I am going to repeat this e

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   23. THE WEIGHT OF GOLD AND GHOSTLY TOUCHES

    Adrian groaned as the morning light sliced through the penthouse. Too bright. Too sharp. It drilled straight into his skull, where the ache pulsed—slow, relentless—fed less by champagne and more by everything he refused to feel last night.He was sprawled across the velvet chaise longue, still in y

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   13. THE CASE INTENSIFIES

    Adrian didn’t remember grabbing his keys. He didn’t remember the elevator ride. Didn’t remember the drive. Only the sound…Screech.His car came to a violent halt outside the clinic, tires burning against asphalt, engine still growling like it shared his fury. His heart pounded.Too fast.Too hard.

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   31. THE REASON

    Vanessa didn’t wait. She never did.The moment Adrian stepped into the penthouse, she was already there—standing in the middle of the living room like a storm that had been waiting to break. “You went to her.” No greeting. No pretense. Just accusation.Adrian didn’t even bother taking off his coa

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   28. SEEING THEM

    Adrian pushed the door open and the world stopped.There she was.Lydia. Propped against white pillows under soft, dim light, her skin pale with exhaustion—but glowing with something stronger than it. Strands of damp hair clung to her face, her lips parted slightly as she breathed through the afte

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