LOGIN(Natasha)
The door clicks shut as Chase steps back into the office.
The air tightens, like something invisible has been pulled taut across my skin.
He doesn’t bother sitting. He just stands there near the desk, looking down at me.
His eyes are empty of anything that even remotely resembles warmth.
“You met Sonia,” he says, “she wanted to get married, we will have the divorce after you give birth.”
Just like that.
No preamble. No attempt to soften the edges. He delivers the death sentence of our marriage with the exact same tone he uses when dissolving an underperforming asset.
I shrug.
The motion comes easily, which is ironic considering the chaos that had been tearing through my bloodstream barely an hour ago.
“Why wait?” I say. “I’m ready to do it now.”
For a moment, the room goes still.
It’s only a fraction of a second, but I catch it—the faint tightening of his jaw, the subtle narrowing of his eyes.
He isn’t used to this. He’s used to cruelty being met with silence, resistance, or pain. Not… agreement. And certainly not enthusiasm.
“No,” he says finally. His voice drops, settling into that familiar register of authority.
“After the birth.”
If keeping the ring on my swollen finger for a few more months helps some carefully calculated PR strategy of his, then fine. Let him have it.
A delay won’t magically resurrect our marriage. In my heart, it’s already been dead for quite some time.
“Fine,” I reply. “Have it your way. I don’t care.”
Leaving Warren Global feels like finally escaping a room with no oxygen.
The drive back to the estate is a necessary evil.
Earlier, I didn’t want to wrestle with luggage in front of Eleanor, so I left my things behind. Now I just need to collect them and find a hotel where I can disappear for a few days.
Simple. At least, that was the plan.
When I limp through the cavernous foyer, the house is quiet. But it isn’t the peaceful kind of quiet. It feels… expectant. Like the walls are waiting to see what I’ll do next.
I push open the door to the master suite. And immediately stop breathing.
The room is immaculate. My packed luggage is gone.
For a second, I just stand there, trying to process what I’m looking at.
Then I notice movement in the hallway. The housekeeper is lingering by the doorframe.
She’s trying to look neutral, but there’s a small, ugly smile twisting her thin lips. Her eyes gleam with the unmistakable satisfaction of someone who believes they’ve just witnessed a small but meaningful victory.
“Madam said to put everything back,” she explains. Her tone drips with artificial innocence.
Eleanor. Of course. She must think I’m trying to run off with things bought using Warren money.
The irony would be funny if it weren’t so pathetic.
Eleanor has never worked a single day in her life. She has absolutely no concept of what I brought into this marriage—or how much I personally contributed to the empire bearing her son’s name.
And she certainly has no idea how badly I want nothing to do with her entire revolting family anymore.
The housekeeper is still watching me. Practically vibrating with anticipation for a scene. Waiting for me to start dragging suitcases out of closets, sweating and crying while fighting a pointless war of attrition.
The thought is so absurd a laugh escapes before I can stop it.
It startles her instantly. Her smug smile falters.
“Oh,” I say sweetly, tilting my head. Then I give her the most cheerful, completely unhinged smile I can manage.
“Maybe she thinks Chase would like to wear it.”
Her confusion is immediate. I don’t wait for it to turn into comprehension.
Instead, I pivot on my good heel and walk straight out of the room.
Let them guard the closet like it’s the crown jewels. I’ll buy a new wardrobe.
I leave that house with nothing but my purse.
***
The next few days dissolve into a blur of work. The conference room at Mason’s firm becomes my second home.
Spreadsheets cover the table. Valuation models stack up in messy piles. Pitch decks glow across three different screens.
Mason stands by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Dark ink curls across his forearms—sharp lines of tattoos that look almost surgical against his skin.
For a moment, I just watched his back. And an unexpected wave of gratitude hits me so hard it almost steals my breath.
When my mother vanished in the middle of the night, taking my older brother with her and leaving a crater behind, the world froze over. The only way to survive it was to become ice myself.
Later, when that illness nearly hollowed me out completely, I turned into a glacier just to endure the aftermath.
But Mason… Mason was the one who threw the rope.
He hauled me out of that frozen darkness piece by broken piece. His love for me has always been there. Unspoken, steady and persistent. It hums quietly beneath every conversation, every shared silence, every late-night strategy session.
To me, Mason has always felt like something else.
Not a lover. Sanctuary. Family.
Back then, my stupid, desperately blind eyes were fixed entirely on Chase. A man who never saw me as anything more than a convenient stepping stone.
I wish I could love Mason the way he deserves. He would make an incredible partner.
“Confirmed,” Mason says suddenly, turning toward me as he ends a call. The look in his eyes is electric. Predatory.
“Jeffrey Bauer is attending the Blackwood Gala tonight.”
Adrenaline shoots through my veins instantly. Jeffrey Bauer is the white whale of this entire acquisition. If we secure his backing, the entire project swings in our favor.
“Chase will be there too,” I point out, tracing the edge of a term sheet with my fingernail. “Hunting the same capital.”
“I know,” Mason says with a grin. “But we have a secret weapon.” He points at me. “You.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t know if you’ve heard,” Mason continues casually, “but Chase just partnered with Nathaniel Morton for the project.”
The pieces slide together. Of course they did. Nathaniel Morton is Sonia’s brother.
My phone suddenly vibrates against the glass table. The screen lights up.
Chase.
I pick it up and answer. “Yes?”
“Since we’ve reached an understanding regarding our marriage,” Chase says, his voice perfectly crisp and detached, “I won’t question your absence from the house. For now.”
How generous of him. Granting me permission to exist outside his property.
“However,” he continues, and the command creeps back into his voice.
“Until the paperwork is finalized, you are still my wife. Certain events require your presence. There is a gala tonight, and I expect you to attend.”
The irony is so sharp I can practically taste metal. He needs the dutiful, pregnant wife on his arm to project stability.
To the very investors Mason and I are about to steal.
“Of course,” I reply smoothly. “I’ll meet you there at seven. Send me the address.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Apparently my cooperation is unsettling.
“Good,” he says. Then he hangs up without saying goodbye.
I toss the phone back onto the table. A jagged, delicious thrill begins to spread through my chest.
Oh, I’ll absolutely be at that gala tonight.
Just not as his wife.
And definitely not standing beside him.
(Mason)“Warmth. Out of ten.”“Chloe. Your hand’s on my cock.”“I know where my hand is. I need the number.”She’s kneeling between my legs on our bed, with a little glass bottle next to her knee and her phone balanced on my stomach. The notes app is open.The lab sent her the new sample today. It’s an oil for couples, and she says she can’t test it on herself, because she knows what she wants from it and that would be bad data.So she asked if she could try it on me, and like an idiot I said yes. I thought she meant on my back.“Seven,” I tell her.She types it in with her little finger. Her other hand doesn’t stop. It slides all the way up and her palm closes over the head, hot and slippery. My hand grabs a fistful of the sheet.“Why isn’t it an eight?”“What?”“If it’s a seven, then something’s wrong with it, and I’ve got to tell the lab what.”“Nothing’s wrong with it. Call it an eight.”“You can’t change your score because I asked you, Mason. Now I’ve got to write down both.”She
(Lily)"Daddy, I need a horse.""You need one?""A real one. Not a picture of one."Daddy's cutting up chicken for dinner. He stops with the knife in the air."What do you need a horse for?""To ride to school.""We've got a car for that.""The car can’t breathe on my neck and eat carrots from my hand. A horse would be happy to see me. And I can’t pet the car."Daddy looks down at the chicken for a long time. He does that when he wants to laugh and I'm being serious."Ask Mommy, peanut."Daddy says ask Mommy when he wants to say yes and he isn't allowed to. So that's good.Mommy's at the table with her laptop. She doesn't even look up."No.""I didn't ask you yet.""I heard you ask Daddy. The answer's no, baby.""Why?"Now she looks up."Because a horse needs a field to run in and a stable to sleep in. Somebody has to feed it and brush it and clean up after it every single day.""I'll do it. I've got a job at school already, and I do it every day.""Every school day.""The horse can h
(Elias)"Your goalkeeper is afraid of the ball. He's supposed to stop it, not get out of its way.""Grandpa, please. They can hear you.""That's the idea, boy. I'm not shouting for the exercise."The goalkeeper in the orange vest ducks again, and the ball goes in over his head.Elijah runs a soccer league for grown men on Wednesday nights. I come to watch the orange team, because they're the worst thing I've ever seen and I can't look away.They don't even have shirts. They play in vests the boy lends them out of the shed."I walked here from the road," I tell him. "My chauffeur is parked outside somebody's house like a burglar.""You say that every week.""It's true every week. Build a parking lot. I'll pay for it. You can have it by next Wednesday.""No.""You haven't heard how much.""I don't need to." He writes a score on his clipboard and doesn't look up. "You gave me money one time, to see what I'd do with it. This is what I did. If you keep paying for stuff, it stops being mine
(Natasha)"Two now.""One now and one after the cake. That's the deal.""Two now and none after the cake."Lily stops with the bowl half lifted, because she wasn't expecting a counter-offer, and my daughter has never in her life been offered a deal she didn't want to examine."That's the same amount.""Yes," Diego says.She hands him two orange segments. Then she looks at me, and I can see her trying to work out where the trick was.She can't find one. That isn't the same as being happy about it.Diego's off across the room at a dead sprint yelling "Mommy, Mommy, I got two," and Gloria catches him without looking.It's his birthday.The house is loud and getting louder and somebody has already stepped on something that squeaks.In the kitchen Gloria reaches for a tray and Nathanial takes it off the counter before her hand gets there."I can carry a tray.""You can. You shouldn’t. I'm carrying it."She lets him.She's been letting him all afternoon and hasn't said one word about it, an
(Lily)"Excuse me. Do you have spoons?"The lady pushing the cart looks down at me. She's got a pin on her jacket shaped like a little plane, which I think is a good idea for a job like hers."I've got these," she says, and holds up a skinny white stick."That's not a spoon.""It's for stirring.""So is a spoon."She laughs and gives me two of them anyway.I take them because two sticks is better than nothing, but they’re not as good as one spoon.Mommy's next to me with her laptop open on the little table that folds down out of the seat.She waits until the cart's gone past us."Do they count?""No.""I figured."I put the sticks in the front pocket of my backpack and zip it.Maybe there will be an emergency I need sticks for, then I’ll be glad they didn’t have spoons.It’s not very likely, but maybe.This is my first time on an actual airplane.Before, I just sat in the chairs and watched mommy walk through the doors.Third chair from the pole with the clock on it. That was mine and
(Sonia)"You can tell me it's bad. I'd survive. I'd be unbearable for a year and then I'd be completely fine,” Liam lies to me shamelessly.I'm at the desk eating cold fries out of the tray with my fingers, because I haven't had anything but a straw since they put me in that dress.Liam's on the end of the bed with his hands squeezed between his knees. He hasn't sat still since I got back to the room.Probably since I left the room initially"You know it's not bad," I tell him."That's not a review. That's a hostage statement.""Eat something. You've been like this for hours.""I can't eat. My stomach's a fist."He looks at the script on the desk, then makes himself look at the wall."How far did you get?""All of it. Then I read it again."He puts both hands over his face."You read it twice and you've been in this room for twenty minutes talking to me about fries.""You're the one who said take my time.""I said that when I thought you'd hate it. Nobody means that."I wipe my hands
(Natasha)Every step through the towering glass doors of Warren Global feels like a dull blade sawing straight through bone.At least that’s how it made me feel that day.The swelling in my knee stretches the fabric of my trousers so tight it almost pulses. Heat radiates from the joint in slow, sic
(Natasha)The temperature always seems to drop when I cross the threshold of the Warren Estate.Cold enough to pass for a museum. Or a prison.A brilliantly designed one.People say grief is loud. That it makes you scream, cry, break things.Maybe that’s true for some people. I didn’t cry. Becaus
The plastic chair in the maternity ward is a special kind of hell. I’m fairly certain the chair was designed by someone who hates pregnant women.I remember sitting there with both hands pressed against the heavy curve of my stomach, trying to breathe through the pressure in my ribs when the baby
(Natasha)Three weeks after Shell Cove and Chase is in my spare room four nights a week.It started on a Wednesday.He dropped Lily off.He stayed for dinner.Lily fell asleep on his arm during her bath, and he stood in the hallway holding her with the wet flannel still in his hand, and asked me, v







