MasukSunday mornings used to begin with conference calls. Today... Adrian Wolfe found himself staring at a text message instead. His thumb hovered over the screen for nearly five minutes before he finally pressed send: May I take Hayes to the aquarium today? The reply came less than a minute later: No. Adrian wasn't surprised. He looked at the single word for several seconds before typing again: Then... may I join if you're already taking him? Just as he thought Lydia wouldn't answer, his phone vibrated: For Hayes. A small smile tugged at the corner of Adrian's lips. And he intended to respect every boundary she set. *** The city aquarium buzzed with families enjoying the weekend. Children laughed excitedly as colorful fish swam overhead through the enormous glass tunnel. Hayes pressed both hands against the glass. "Daddy!" He pointed excitedly. "Look! A shark!" Adrian walked over, smiling. "I see it." "It's huge!" "It's almost as big as your imagination." Hayes giggled
Saturday mornings used to belong to business: Board meetings. Investor breakfasts. Conference calls across different time zones. For years, Adrian Wolfe had convinced himself that building an empire was the greatest gift he could give his family. Now… Standing outside a neighborhood soccer field with a paper cup of coffee growing cold in his hand… He realized his family had never wanted an empire. They had simply wanted him. The sound of children’s laughter echoed across the field. Parents cheered from the sidelines while young players chased soccer balls with more enthusiasm than skill. Adrian checked the schedule posted beside the entrance: Hayes Wolfe. Under-7 Training. Field Two His heart pounded harder than it ever had before a billion-dollar negotiation. He wasn’t afraid of losing a business deal. He was afraid his son might no longer want him. Across the field, Lydia adjusted Aurelia’s tiny pink sunhat before placing the baby back into her stroller. Hayes stood with hi
For the first time in weeks... Adrian Wolfe left Wolfe Group before sunset. His destination wasn't another business meeting. It wasn't a shareholders' dinner. Nor was it one of the luxury events he used to attend almost every evening. Instead... He drove to the Wolfe Foundation. The annual charity gala was only a few weeks away, and Lydia had always insisted on personally overseeing every detail. After she left... No one had touched her plans. Curiosity—or perhaps guilt—had brought Adrian there. As he stepped into the foundation building, volunteers hurried through the lobby carrying boxes of books, school supplies, and event decorations. The atmosphere was busy... But warm. Nothing like the cold efficiency of the corporate headquarters. A familiar voice caught his attention: "Those scholarship files go to Conference Room B." "And don't forget the children's medical records." Adrian turned. Mia. She stood in the middle of the room, clipboard in hand, directing volunteers
Adrian had never imagined that one day... He would have to ask permission to see his own family. The black Rolls-Royce Phantom came to a stop in front of Eric Anderson's apartment building just before noon. The chauffeur glanced through the rearview mirror. "We're here, Mr. Wolfe." Adrian nodded absently. For several seconds, he remained seated. His fingers tightened around the small paper bag resting beside him. Inside were Hayes' favorite chocolate cookies. The only gift he hadn't bought from an expensive boutique. The only one he knew his son genuinely loved. Taking a deep breath, Adrian stepped out of the car. He looked up at the modest apartment building. Compared to the Wolfe penthouse... It was ordinary. Smaller. Far less luxurious. Yet somehow... Lydia had chosen this place over their home. The thought stung. *** A few minutes later... The apartment door slowly opened. It wasn't Lydia. Eric stood there. He looked slightly surprised but remained composed. "Adrian."
The Wolfe penthouse had always been impeccably managed. Every morning, the housekeepers followed the same routine: Fresh flowers were placed in crystal vases. Breakfast was prepared before sunrise. The children's playroom was cleaned before Hayes woke up. Everything had a place. Everything had a rhythm. That rhythm had been created by Lydia Wolfe. Even after she left... The staff continued following the routines she had established over the years. It was the only thing that made the empty penthouse feel remotely familiar. Until Sophie Hart arrived. *** "Good morning." Sophie walked into the penthouse wearing an elegant cream-colored dress, oversized sunglasses, and a confident smile. The butler, Mr. Han, greeted her politely. "Good morning, Miss Hart." She frowned. "Miss Hart?" Mr. Han blinked. "Yes, Miss." A small smile appeared on Sophie's lips, but it never reached her eyes. "You should probably start getting used to calling me something else." The butler looked puzzl
Adrian Wolfe had never been a man who chased after anyone. People came to him. Clients waited for his approval. Executives adjusted their schedules around his. Investors flew across continents just to secure a one-hour meeting. For thirty-five years, the world had taught him one lesson: Power meant never having to ask twice. But none of that power mattered when the person he wanted refused to answer his calls. *** The first call went unanswered. Adrian stared at his phone, convinced Lydia simply hadn't heard it. He waited five minutes before trying again. Voicemail. He frowned. Maybe she was putting Aurelia to sleep. Maybe she was bathing Hayes. Maybe... He tried again an hour later. Voicemail. Again before dinner. Voicemail. Again before midnight. Still... Voicemail. Adrian tossed his phone onto the sofa and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Lydia..." he whispered her name into the empty penthouse. "I just want to talk." The silence answered him. *** The nex
The pen in Lydia Hart’s hand trembled violently. Not just a slight shake. It quivered like it carried the weight of everything she had lost—every silent morning, every unanswered question, every night she had spent staring at a door that never opened for her. Three years. Three years… reduced to a
The sleek, midnight-black AgustaWestland helicopter sheared through the heavy low-hanging fog of the Manhattan skyline, its rotors cutting the crisp night air with a rhythmic, thunderous roar. Inside the sound-insulated, leather-lined cabin, the soft amber dashboard lights cast long shadows over t
The smooth, rhythmic hum of the high-speed document scanner was the only sound echoing through the minimalist executive suite of Hart Legal Chambers. Lydia Hart sat at the center of a massive, circular glass desk. The tailored gray silk blazers of her past survival era had been replaced by a sharp
Lydia stepped out of the examination room with the envelope clutched tightly in her hand. Too tight. The thin paper crinkled under her grip, but she didn’t loosen it. Inside it—seven weeks of a truth she wasn’t ready to face. Seven weeks of something that could destroy what little control she had l







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