MasukThree Years Later
“Mommy, are we there yet?” A small hand tugged at mine, warm and impatient. I looked down to find my son, Leo, staring up at me with those impossibly familiar gray eyes. His face was a perfect replica of his—sharp jawline, dark waves of hair curling slightly at his temples, and thick lashes framing his wide gaze. Beside him, my daughter, Alina, swung her legs, her golden-brown curls bouncing as she huffed in exasperation. “We’ve been in this car forever!” she complained. I smiled, squeezing both of their hands. “Just a little longer, babies. We’re almost home.” “Home?” Alina scrunched her tiny nose. “But we just left home.” “That was our old home, sweetheart,” I said softly. “Now, we have a new one.” She pursed her lips, considering this. Then, after a moment, she grinned. “I hope it has a big bathtub. I like bubble baths.” Leo, ever the quiet one, looked up thoughtfully. “Will there be lots of windows?” Something about the way he asked that made my stomach twist, but I pushed the feeling aside. “Lots and lots,” I promised, running my fingers through his soft curls. As if on cue, the car slowed to a stop in front of our new home—a towering penthouse in the heart of Valmont City. The skyscraper gleamed under the evening sky, its sleek glass panels reflecting the hues of the setting sun. It was a stark contrast to the small, cozy apartment we had left behind. “Whoa…” Alina breathed, eyes wide with awe. Even Leo, usually so reserved, let out a small hum of approval. “It’s really tall,” he observed. A doorman in a crisp navy suit opened the car door, tipping his hat politely. I stepped out first, then reached for my children, helping them onto the pavement. Their tiny fingers gripped mine tightly as they stared up at the grand building before us. “Come on,” I murmured, leading them inside. The penthouse was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a sweeping view of the glittering city skyline, while soft golden lighting bathed the space in a warm glow. The living area boasted plush cream-colored couches, a polished marble floor, and delicate gold accents that gave it a touch of understated luxury. Alina gasped in delight and took off running. “This is so cool!” she squealed, twirling in the middle of the room. “Mummy, does our new home have a big swimming pool?” I nooded in exasperation. Leo followed more cautiously, his little brows furrowing as he inspected the space. He peeked into one of the bedrooms and nodded to himself. “Mine has a big window,” he announced. “I like it.” I let out a soft breath, soaking in the moment. This was it. A new life. A fresh start. It hadn’t been easy. After leaving Adrian behind, I had thrown myself into my dreams, enrolling in the prestigious Valmont Academy of Performing Arts. Years of hard work had finally paid off when I was named Talent of the Year at my graduation performance. That night, one of the most influential filmmakers in Valmont City—Director Hugo Laurent—had approached me with an offer. “You have a presence that commands the screen,” he had said, his sharp eyes assessing me. “You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for.” Even with two little ones to care for, I hadn’t let anything stop me. My best friend from acting school, Sophia Sanchez, had been my rock, helping raise the twins while I devoted myself to filming. And now, after years of sacrifice, I was back in Valmont City for the premiere of my first movie. Tonight. I exhaled sharply and pulled out my phone, dialing my manager. “Cara,” I greeted when she picked up. “Just confirming—what time should I be at the premiere?” “Red carpet starts at eight,” she replied. “But I’d suggest getting there by seven-thirty to handle press.” “Got it. I’ll be there.” “Sienna,” her voice softened. “This is your moment. Are you ready?” I glanced at my reflection in the floor-length mirror by the window. The woman staring back at me was no longer the naive girl who once believed in fairy tales. “More than ever.” After ending the call, I turned back to the twins. “Alright, my loves, let’s get you settled before Mommy gets ready.” They had already made themselves at home—Alina sprawled across a velvet chaise lounge, while Leo sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a picture book. I tucked them into bed, brushing their soft curls as they sleepily murmured their goodnights. “Mommy, can we watch your movie?” Alina yawned, blinking up at me. “Not yet, baby,” I chuckled, smoothing the blanket over her tiny frame. “When you’re older.” Leo was already halfway asleep, but just as I kissed his forehead, his small hand reached for mine. “Mommy,” he mumbled, voice barely a whisper. “Will you be back soon?” “Always,” I promised. Once they were settled, I made my way to my room. The penthouse master suite was just as stunning as the rest of the house—high ceilings, rich mahogany furniture, and a glass chandelier that cast a soft glow across the room. My gown for the night hung elegantly in the walk-in closet—an off-the-shoulder midnight blue dress that hugged my curves in all the right places. It was bold, striking. Powerful. I carefully applied my makeup, accentuating my almond-shaped eyes with dark liner and finishing with a swipe of deep red lipstick. But just as I was about to leave, my fingers hesitated on the silver clasp of my bracelet. A familiar feeling settled in my chest. “Mommy, will there be lots of windows?” Leo’s voice echoed in my head again. Something about the way he had asked it… something about the way he looked. I turned to where he lay peacefully, his small face relaxed in sleep. And for the first time, I truly saw it. The sharp jawline. The unruly waves of dark hair. The way his lashes fanned against his cheeks. He looked exactly like Adrian. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I swallowed hard, shaking my head. It doesn’t matter. Adrian Hawthorne was my past. And tonight, I was stepping into my future. As I stepped into the backseat my car, ready to leave for the premiere, my phone buzzed. An unknown number. I hesitated before answering. And then— “Sienna?” My voice hitched in my throat. It was him.A few days later, Layla woke to quiet.Not the fragile, Not the kind of quiet that scared her or made her uncertain, not the kind that felt like it might shatter if you breathed wrong, but the ordinary kind. Morning quiet. The kind with distant traffic hum and the soft whir of the refrigerator down the hall.The last few days have been a whirlwind of emotions for her. From getting a call that a gallery was bought and paid in full in her name to Voss hiring a Hispanic young maid who could take care of her while he was away from work, to experiencing morning sickness, something she could not find herself getting used to. It was a whole lot of confusing but in a good way. She was content. She lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, letting that sink in.Her body still felt… different. Slower. Like it had learned something about itself and hadn’t quite gone back to the way it used to move. She shifted carefully, one hand instinctively finding her stomach, palm warm against herse
Sienna reached for Layla before anyone could say a word. Her arm moved slowly, like it wasn’t sure it would make it all the way, fingers trembling as they searched the air. Layla saw it out of the corner of her eye and froze for half a second, not because she didn’t want to move, but because she was suddenly afraid that if she moved too fast, this would disappear. Like a dream you wake up from too suddenly. Then Sienna whispered her name. “Layla…” That was all it took. Layla got up from the wheel chair and walked across the room in two quick steps and leaned over the bed, wrapping her arms around Sienna carefully, adjusting her weight so she didn’t press against any tubes or wires. Sienna clung to her immediately, weak arms locking around Layla’s shoulders like she’d been waiting for this exact moment to let go. They both started crying right away. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just soft, broken sobs that shook their thin bodies, the kind that come from holding too much inside for t
The word didn’t echo. It didn’t need to. Pregnant. It sat heavy in the room, pressing down on Layla’s chest until breathing felt like work. She stared at the ceiling, eyes unfocused, following a faint crack in the paint like it might explain how everything had tilted so fast. Pregnant? That didn’t make sense. It didn’t fit anywhere in the careful structure of her life. She was on birth control. She never missed a day. She’d checked. Double-checked. She had spreadsheets for less important things. Her heart started racing again, not the dangerous kind this time, but the loud, spiraling kind. What about Elara?The job she was given just four days to think about. The job needed her to travel how exactly was she going to do that if she was pregnant?? How did this even happen. Her parents. God. Her parents. Would they be disappointed? Shocked? Quiet in that way that hurt worse than yelling?She knew they were not totally liberal or conservative either. They were traditional Jews
Voss realized it the moment the doctor stopped walking and turned to face them. The walls seemed to close in, the white lights too sharp, too bright. Even the air felt thinner, like there wasn’t enough of it to breathe. The doctor cleared his throat. “We ran the extended panel,” he said carefully, as if each word needed permission before leaving his mouth. “Including the rare strain we were worried about.” Adrian leaned in immediately, shoulders stiff, eyes locked on the doctor. He hadn’t sat down since the bleeding started again. His hands were shaking, but he didn’t notice. He didn’t even blink. “And?” he asked. The doctor glanced at the clipboard, then looked back up. “We found a match.” The word landed like a hammer. Heavy. Loud. Echoing down the narrow hallway. “A… a match?” Adrian repeated, disbelief cracking open into something dangerously close to hope. “You’re sure?” “Yes,” the doctor said. “Perfect compatibility.” Perfect. The word hung there, fragile, trembling, a
The corridor swallowed Voss whole.One moment he was there, solid, tall, controlled despite the tension vibrating off him and the next, the automatic doors slid shut behind his back with a soft hiss that felt louder than it should have. Layla stood where he left her, fingers curled around the strap of her bag like it was the only thing anchoring her to the floor.The air felt different immediately.He always did that. Took space with him when he moved. Left a quiet behind that made everything else feel louder, heavier. The beeping machines. The low murmur of voices. The squeak of rubber soles against polished hospital floors.Layla exhaled slowly, realizing she’d been holding her breath.Waiting had never been her strength.She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and looked around, unsure what to do with her hands, her thoughts, her fear. This part of the hospital was too white, too clean. The kind of place where life and death brushed shoulders quietly while the rest of the
Layla jerked awake from her half sleep trying to figure out whom the voice belonged to. Her chest heaved as she turned toward the voice, and then reality hit her. It wasn’t a nurse it was Voss. He looked… exhausted. Worn out in a way she had never seen before. There were dark shadows under his eyes, his hair slightly mussed, his suit rumpled from what she assumed was a long day and an even longer night. “Voss!” she cried, rushing to him, her heels clicking sharply against the sterile tiles. “Voss, what’s going on? Where is Sienna? Where are the twins? How come no one called me?” Voss’s eyes widened at the sight of her, relief washing over his features. He ran a hand through his hair, shoulders sagging slightly. “Layla… thank God you’re here,” he said, voice tight, low with stress. “My phone has been dead, and at this point, I don’t even know where exactly it is. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.” Layla’s gaze flicked to the nurse nearby. She could see the guilty tilt of her h







