LENAI never thought I’d be the kind of woman to put her heart on the internet.I had always rolled my eyes at people who shared every corner of their lives online, baring themselves to strangers who could never really understand. I thought it was reckless, messy, maybe even selfish.And yet, there I was—sitting at the desk in the upstairs study with my laptop open, my fingers hovering over the keys, my heart hammering.Roman didn’t know. He was downstairs with Isabella, stretched out on the couch with her balanced on his chest. I could hear him faintly through the floor, talking to her in that low rumble that made her coo and smile.I should have gone down there. I should have been soaking in the peace of that moment, the rare quiet we had between storms.Instead, I needed to do this.I needed to write.The cursor blinked at me like a dare.I typed the title before I could lose my nerve:Becoming a Mother in the Middle of ChaosI stared at the words, my throat tightening. Then I star
LENAThe note sat hidden in the drawer of my nightstand, folded so tightly the paper was beginning to crease. I hadn’t told Roman about it yet. Not because I didn’t trust him, but because I wanted, just for one day, to live without fear.Just one day where I could think about our future instead of shadows.And today, Roman was making sure of it.When I padded into the terrace that morning, still in my robe with my hair a messy tangle, he was already there with a spread that looked like something out of a magazine—fresh pastries, fruit, coffee, even a vase of white roses in the center of the table. Isabella was in her bassinet beside him, kicking softly, her little fists punching the air.Roman looked up the second he heard me. His smile was soft, and so disarming it made my knees weak.“Good morning, Mrs. Almost Wolfe,” he said, rising to press a kiss to my lips.I laughed against his mouth. “You’ve been up for hours, haven’t you?”“Guilty.” His hand skimmed my waist before he pulled
LENAI never thought I would see him again.Not after the lawsuit. Not after the press painted him as the bitter man who tried to rip my life apart with Roman. Not after years of distance and silence that felt deeper than any ocean.But there he was, standing in the doorway of the villa as if he had simply walked out for milk and finally come back.My father.I froze mid-step, Isabella pressed against my shoulder, her soft little breaths the only sound I could hear. Roman was beside me instantly, his arm wrapping around my waist, the protective wall he always built snapping up without hesitation.My father looked older than I remembered. His hair, once dark like mine, had more gray than black. His eyes were tired, lined with regret. He held his hands awkwardly in front of him, like he didn’t know what to do with them.“Lena,” he said, his voice rough, scratchy. “I… I needed to see you.”My heart slammed hard against my ribs. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him to leave, to demand w
LENAI thought I’d be relieved when Vivian finally surrendered.Instead, standing there in the villa’s sunlit sitting room, watching her sink into the armchair across from me, I felt hollow.She looked nothing like the woman who had once terrified me. Vivian Wolfe had always carried herself like a queen—impeccable posture, eyes sharp as glass, mouth pressed in a line of disdain. Now, she looked… older. Smaller. As though the war she’d been waging had drained her until there was nothing left but the shell of who she had been.Roman stood at my side, his arm around me, protective as always. Isabella slept upstairs, blissfully unaware of the storm breaking beneath this roof.Vivian smoothed her skirt with trembling fingers before lifting her eyes to mine. They weren’t hard anymore. They were tired. Defeated.“I can’t fight you anymore,” she said, her voice low but steady.My breath caught. For months—no, years—it had felt like she was a shadow at my back, always waiting to strike. To hea
LENAThe morning after Roman slipped the new ring onto my finger, I woke to sunlight spilling across the sheets and the sound of waves crashing against the shore. For the first time in what felt like forever, my first thought wasn’t fear. It was him.Roman lay beside me, one arm draped heavy across my waist, his breathing steady and even. The sight of him at peace like that—lashes resting against his skin, his lips curved in the faintest hint of a smile—made my chest ache.I stared down at the ring glinting faintly on my finger. It felt different than before, heavier somehow, but not in a way that scared me. This wasn’t obligation. This wasn’t desperation. This was choice.My choice.“Are you staring at me again, angel?” Roman’s voice was gravelly, sleep-heavy, but laced with amusement.Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Maybe.”His eyes cracked open, dark and hazy, and landed immediately on my hand—the ring. His lips curved, slow and satisfied. “Good. I like when you stare.”I rolled my eyes
LENA The phone on the terrace table kept buzzing, David Carter flashing across the screen like a curse. My stomach twisted, dread chewing at the edges of my peace. But Roman didn’t answer. He silenced it with one sharp motion, set it face down, and turned his back on it. His eyes found mine across the dim light, unreadable but steady. “Not tonight,” he said, his voice low and final. “He doesn’t exist tonight.” The tension in my shoulders loosened, just a little. Roman crossed to me, cupping my face with both hands. His thumbs brushed away tears I hadn’t realized had formed. “You’re mine, Lena. You and Isabella. Nothing he does changes that.” I nodded, though fear still gnawed at me. Roman kissed me then, slow but certain, like sealing a promise. When he pulled back, there was a look in his eyes I couldn’t quite name. He took my hand and led me back inside, past the nursery where Isabella slept peacefully, into the heart of the villa. The ocean wind drifted through the open doo