***DON'T FORGET TO ADD THE STORY TO YOUR LIBRARY, #Comment #Like #SUPPORT #SherahHawke #EthanFarwell #Nathan Kingsley #Fallon Kingsley Feel free to check my other stories here: Hey, Stranger! Goodbye My Love & Alpha's Last Chance
Rebecca was kept under. The doctors called it a medically induced coma.But for Silas Hawke, it felt like penance.They said it was necessary to let her body rest, to give her time to heal, both inside and out.What they didnât say⌠was that her silence was easier for them to bear than her screams.The video heâd received was horrific as it was, and had not prepared him for what he saw beneath the sterile white sheets.The real damage wasnât just what the world saw on the Sky Bridge.It was what the monsters had left hidden inside her.Silas sat beside her hospital bed, elbows on his knees, Rebeccaâs pale hand cradled in both of his like a fragile relic.The monitors beeped steadily in the background, each sound a cruel reminder that she was still alive⌠yet barely with him.His mind drifted back to the doctorâs words. Cold. Clinical. Devastating.~We found remnants of shattered glass inside her vaginal canal. Based on the jagged entry points and depth of injury, we suspect a beer bot
Like the pull of a merciless current, chaos dragged everything beneath the surface. No matter how hard Silas tried to silence the media and spin his way out of disaster, the fallout from Sophiaâs catastrophic wedding and Rebeccaâs sudden disappearance had already sent shockwaves through high society.The Hawke nameâonce spoken with envyânow dripped from lips laced with pity and contempt. They had become a cautionary tale, a dynasty collapsing in real time. Silasâs grand promises to investorsâto double, even triple their profitsâhad curdled into lawsuits and betrayal. The threats he had once wielded like a sword against small businesses using the Farwell Groupâs weight now cut back at him with savage precision.One after another, lawsuits flew in. From every direction.Each breach, every falsified deal, every coerced signature tied to Walton Unlimited is now exposed in the harsh, unrelenting light of public scrutiny.From the comfort of her estate, Madam Kingsley watched it all unfold.
IN HAWKE RESIDENCE...SOPHIAâS ROOM â NIGHTThe room is dimly lit. Clothes are strewn across the floor. Sophia sits on the bed in the same clothes sheâs worn for days, her phone glued to her hand.CALLING: MOMAgain. And again.Straight to voicemail.Sophia whispering, her voice broken, paranoia taking in, "Come on, pick up... please, pick upâŚ"Tears silently fall from her eyes.She holds the phone to her ear like itâs her lifeline, her last connection to reality.It rings. Then voicemail.She throws the phone on the bed, then grabs it again seconds later. Tries again.CALLING: MOMSilence. No answer.Just that same soul-shattering voicemail tone.She tried over and over again even though she knew what happened. Sheâs aware someone took her mother, and she knew too well that it was THE WOMAN. The woman with the Guy Fawkes masks. The woman who took everything away from her.Her career. Her beauty.Her chance to be a mother. All taken by that god awful, vile woman, who until now did
The moment Fallon and Nathan left the manor, Ethan hurriedly called Brooke not to check or locate Rebecca but to dig deeper into Fallonâs background.âBrooke,â Ethan muttered.âWorking on it, boss. Iâm checking all possible cameras that caught what happenedâââChange of plans. I need you to dig deeper into Fallon Kingsley.â Ethan cut him off.Brooke gasped, âThe lawyerâs wife again? Why?â he questioned. Ethan stared out into the dark, âShe said something tonight⌠something strange.âHe replayed the words in his head.~I hope our baby looks like Nathan. If they look like me⌠then they wonât really look like me.~âWhat does that mean?â Ethan whispered to himself.His grip tightens around the phone.âWhatever you find, I want it on my desk by morning.â He demanded, then ended the call.Behind him, Madam Farwell stood by the sitting room archway, watching her grandson.âEthan⌠are you sick? Youâre not yourself.â She asked gently as she patted his back.Ethan turned slowly, his face blank
SLAP!The sound cracked through the manor like a whip, echoing off the cold walls and high ceilings.Ethan's head jerked to the side. His cheek flushed a deep red from the impact. He didnât raise his voice. Didnât react.He stood there, head bowed, taking it. âI⌠I deserved that.âFallon stood frozen. Her palm still hovered in the air, trembling from the force.âWhat the fuck is wrong with you?â She uttered through gritted teeth. Her hatred is more to herself than to him, as she longs for that kiss but needs to be stronger. His eyes flickered in shame, âI know. I do apologize for my behavior, Mrs. Kingsley.âA long silence passed between them, interrupted only by the ticking of the grandfather clock.Fallon stormed off into the living room. Ethan stood behind her, chest tight. But then his phone buzzed.A message from Brooke.~The culprits are on the move.~Attached were a police photo and an encrypted file.Ethanâs breath caught.It shows CCTV footage of Rebecca being dragged out of
Madam Farwell sat in the living room, trying futilely to relax with a novel. Her fingers trembled slightly against the pages, her jaw tense. Ever since Ethan announced his wedding, a storm had brewed beneath her polished demeanor. To her, it wasnât a celebration. It was a catastrophe in a white dress.Her fleeting sense of tranquility shattered when a maid tiptoed in and announced, âThe young master is here, Madam.âStartled, Madam Farwell snapped her book shut. Her eyes narrowed. He better not have brought that woman with him. The sound of two sets of footsteps echoed down the hallway. She didnât even wait to see who it was.âI told you not to bring that woman here!â she barked.Fallon froze mid-step. Her hand went to her chest instinctively, her breath catching. Confused, she glanced at Ethan. âWhat did I do?â she thought in silent panic.She turned, ready to walk away, but Ethan gently grabbed her wrist and leaned in, whispering, âSheâs not talking about you.âThen louder, âGrandma