MasukSuzan’s POV"Emerald is my daughter."For a moment, I genuinely thought I had misunderstood him.I stared at Draven across the dinner table, waiting for him to clarify what he meant, perhaps explaining that he was referring to something else entirely.But he didn't.His expression remained solemn, his steel-gray eyes fixed on mine."She's my daughter, Suzan."A strange sensation moved through my chest. It wasn't quite fear, and it wasn't quite anger. It was the unsettling feeling of watching a door I had spent five years keeping firmly shut swing open without warning."What?" I finally managed.He repeated himself."I know Emerald is my daughter."My fingers tightened around the stem of my glass.That was what he wanted to discuss?Not Vanguard. Not Sterling. Not the investigation or the suspicious transactions we'd been tracing for weeks.Emerald.Our Emerald.I had known this conversation might happen someday. In fact, there had been moments when I had considered telling him myself.
Draven’s POVI changed my shirt twice before deciding that neither choice mattered.The first was a white dress shirt. Too formal.The second was a black one. Too much like I was preparing for a board meeting rather than a conversation that could permanently alter the tiny relationship between Suzan and me.Eventually, I settled on a dark navy shirt beneath a charcoal jacket. No tie. No unnecessary display of wealth. I wanted the evening to feel private, not staged.It was a ridiculous amount of thought to give an outfit.But then, I had spent most of the day thinking about the woman I was going to meet.At nine that morning, I sent her the restaurant's address and the reservation time. She replied a few minutes later.‘I'll be there.’Three words. No questions. No indication that she had spent even a fraction of the time I had worrying about what would happen when we sat across from each other.I envied her composure.The restaurant was a discreet establishment on the Upper East Side
Suzan’s POVThe living room had become a battlefield.A colourful battlefield, admittedly, with plastic building blocks scattered across the rug, a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table, and one very determined five-year-old insisting that the adults around her were playing the game incorrectly."Edward, you can't put the blue one there!"Edward glanced up from his laptop. "And why not, Professor?""Because blue goes with blue. That's the rule.""Who made that rule?""Me."He nodded solemnly. "Well, that settles it. I wouldn't dare challenge the authority of the chief scientist."Emerald giggled, clearly pleased with herself.I sat cross-legged on the rug beside her, holding two puzzle pieces that I had been instructed not to connect until further notice. Sarah occupied the sofa with a small bowl of fruit, watching the proceedings with the amused patience of someone who had witnessed this particular brand of chaos many times before."Madam Scientist," I said, examining the pieces
Draven’s POVThree days after the FDA's positive feedback went public officially , I visited my grandmother at the Sterling estate.Eleanor had been discharged from the hospital and returned to her suite, where a professional nurse monitored her recovery alongside enough domestic staff to make the entire east wing feel like a private medical facility. She had complained about the arrangements, the restrictions, and the nurse's insistence that she rest, but I suspected she was secretly enjoying having an entire team at her beck and call.When I entered her sitting room, she was by the windows with a book resting open on her lap."Look who has finally remembered that he has a grandmother."I bent to kiss her cheek. "I visited two days ago.""And you think that excuses your hours of absence ?""I see you're recovering well.""Don't change the subject, Draven."I smiled and settled into the armchair opposite her.We spoke briefly about her health, the staff, and the corrected drug. When
Cassandra’s POVI should have gone home.That was the sensible thing to do after leaving Draven's office. I should have returned to my apartment, poured myself a drink, and allowed the uneasiness of the morning to settle.Instead, I instructed my driver to take me to Draven's penthouse.I still had a key. He had never asked for it back, and I had never considered giving it up. It was a small privilege, one of the few things that made me feel I belonged in his life even when he kept me at a distance.Today, I needed that privilege.I needed to know what he had found.The pendant.His questions about the engraving. The way he had watched me when I insisted I remembered nothing. His sudden interest in the girl who had saved him.I had told myself it was nothing more than a search for an old memory. But fear had a way of turning insignificant details into warnings, and I could no longer convince myself that Draven's questions were innocent.When the car stopped outside his building, I bar
Cassandra's POV The moment I left the dinner venue, I knew something had gone wrong.I couldn't identify the exact moment it happened. Draven had been courteous throughout dinner, pulling out my chair, asking about my day, and listening when I spoke. He had even walked me to the entrance.But beneath his politeness, something had changed.He was watching me.Not the way a man watched the woman he wanted to marry. Not with affection or the familiar warmth I had spent years trying to earn.He watched me as though there were something about me he had yet to understand.And then there had been the pendant.“Do you remember what was engraved along the edge?”Such a simple question. Such an insignificant detail.Yet I had spent the rest of dinner wondering why he had asked it. And what was engraved, did I answer wrongly?My phone rang.Becky.I answered before the driver could open the door for me.“Cassandra, have you seen what's happening online?”I stopped walking. “What happened?”“The







