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A Normal Life

Author: Mira N.
last update publish date: 2026-09-19 16:19:42

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Sylvia’s POV

The morning light came through the windows differently here.

Softer. Slower. Like the sun itself had decided to take its time. I woke to the smell of coffee drifting up the stairs, and for a moment, just a moment, I forgot everything. Forgot the threats. Forgot the fire. Forgot the secrets and lies and the man who wanted us dead.

I just lay there, watching the dust motes dance in the sunlight, and let myself pretend that this was just a normal morning. In a nor
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  • Rented Husband    Still At Home

    Chapter Forty-OneSylvia’s POV Still At HomeThe house had settled into silence.Bella had gone to bed first, claiming exhaustion from the wine and the laughter. Romano had followed shortly after, muttering something about needing to check the security system before he slept. That left me and Adrian on the porch, the night air cool against my skin, the stars scattered across the sky like someone had spilled a jar of diamonds."We should go to bed," I said, though I didn't move."We should." He didn't move either.The silence stretched between us, comfortable and warm. I didn't want to break it. I didn't want the day to end. Because tomorrow would bring reality. Tomorrow would bring plans and decisions and danger.But tonight was still tonight."You know," Adrian said quietly, "I was thinking about something.""What?""There's a room upstairs. At the end of the hall. I haven't been in there since I was a kid.""What's in it?""My grandmother's painting studio. She used to spend hours

  • Rented Husband    A Taste Of Home

    Chapter FortySylvia’s POV A Taste Of HomeThe second day was even quieter than the first.I woke to the sound of rain against the window, soft, steady, the kind of rain that made you want to stay in bed forever. The house was warm. The sheets were soft. And for a moment, just a moment, I forgot everything again.I found Adrian in the kitchen.He was standing at the stove, a spatula in his hand, attempting to flip an egg. He was failing. Miserably."That's not how you do it," I said.He turned. "Good morning to you too.""Good morning. You're doing it wrong.""I'm doing it fine.""The egg is broken.""The egg is rustic.""The egg is a disaster."He looked down at the pan. The egg was, indeed, a disaster. Yolk everywhere. Shell fragments. A slight burning smell."Okay," he admitted. "Maybe I'm doing it wrong."I walked over and took the spatula from his hand. "Let me.""You cook?""I manage."I cracked two eggs into the pan, cleanly, perfectly and flipped them with a flick of my wrist

  • Rented Husband    A Normal Life

    Chapter Thirty-NineSylvia’s POV The morning light came through the windows differently here.Softer. Slower. Like the sun itself had decided to take its time. I woke to the smell of coffee drifting up the stairs, and for a moment, just a moment, I forgot everything. Forgot the threats. Forgot the fire. Forgot the secrets and lies and the man who wanted us dead.I just lay there, watching the dust motes dance in the sunlight, and let myself pretend that this was just a normal morning. In a normal house. With normal people.I got dressed slowly, jeans, a sweater I'd borrowed from Bella, my hair loose around my shoulders. I didn't bother with makeup. I didn't bother with anything. For the first time in weeks, I didn't feel like I had to be ready for a fight.When I walked downstairs, I found Romano in the kitchen.He was standing at the stove, a spatula in his hand, flipping pancakes with the kind of focus he usually reserved for business deals. He was wearing an old t-shirt and sweatp

  • Rented Husband    Evacuation (Temporary)

    Chapter Thirty-EightSylvia’s POV I didn't sleep.The hotel room was quiet, Bella curled up in the armchair, Romano dozing by the window, my mother on the small couch. Adrian was beside me on the bed, his hand in mine, his breathing slow and even. He was alive. He was here. He was safe.But I couldn't sleep.My mind was racing, spinning, drowning in everything I'd learned. Adrian wasn't who he thought he was. His parents weren't his parents. His whole life was a lie.And I didn't know who his real parents were.Not really. Not beyond their names. David and Sarah. A couple who died in a car accident when Adrian was a baby. A couple who might have been murdered by the same man who'd ruined my family.But who were they? What did they look like? What did they love? What did they dream about? Did they know, when they held their baby in their arms, that they wouldn't live to see him grow up? Did they know they were leaving him behind with a monster?I stared at the ceiling, my heart heavy.

  • Rented Husband    Parenting

    Chapter Thirty-SevenThe hotel room was too quiet.I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands clenched in my lap, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. Bella was in the chair by the window, her knees pulled up to her chest, her eyes fixed on the door. Romano stood by the window, his back to us, his shoulders tense.No one spoke.But I couldn't take the silence anymore."Who gave you the orders?"Romano didn't turn. "What?""You heard me." I stood up, my voice shaking. "You said you were acting on orders. Whose orders?"He was quiet for a long moment. Then he turned to face me, his expression heavy."Adrian's."The word hit me like a physical blow. "What?""He called me. Right before I found you at the hospital. He told me to get you out. No matter what. Even if it meant leaving him behind."I stared at him, my mind reeling. "He told you to leave him? To leave him in a burning building?""He knew I would argue. He knew I would refuse. So he made me promise." Romano's voic

  • Rented Husband    Hospital

    Chapter Thirty-SixI stared at Francesca, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat."You're lying.""I'm not." Francesca's voice was calm, steady. "I saw them. I heard them. William threatened to end you if Adrian didn't walk away.""Why should I believe you?" I demanded. "You've been lying to me since the moment we met. You've been scheming. You've been manipulating. Why should I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?"Francesca's expression didn't change. "Because I have proof."She reached into her pocket and pulled out a phone. She tapped the screen, then turned it toward me.A photograph. Dark, grainy, but unmistakable. Adrian and William, standing in what looked like a parking garage. William's face was twisted with anger. Adrian's was pale, desperate.And then I saw it. A timestamp. The night before the accident."That doesn't prove anything," I said, though my voice was shaking. "They could have been arguing about anything.""They weren't arguing abo

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