Mag-log inSeven years ago, Aiden Voss destroyed her life with a bet. Rich, reckless, and untouchable, Aiden was the king of Westbridge International School until a scholarship girl named Emily Kane looked him in the eye and refused to bow. What started as a cruel dare to make her fall in love became something dangerously real. But when Emily discovered the truth, she ran heartbroken, pregnant, and determined to never look back. Now, Aiden is a cold, powerful billionaire, and Emily is his new executive assistant. She’s no longer the innocent girl he once knew. She’s a fiercely protective single mother with a six-year-old daughter who has Aiden’s gray eyes and a smile that haunts him. Aiden will do anything to earn forgiveness. But Emily isn’t sure she can trust the man who once broke her. Especially when dangerous secrets from their past refuse to stay buried and two people are willing to destroy everything to keep them apart. As old wounds reopen and new temptations arise, Aiden must prove he’s no longer the boy who made the bet. And Emily must decide if love is worth risking her heart and her daughter’s, one final time.
view moreSeven Months Pregnant“Emily, slow down.”I laughed as my mother hurried to catch up with me.“I’m pregnant, Mom, not fragile.”She narrowed her eyes.“That’s exactly what every stubborn pregnant woman says.”Dad chuckled from behind us. I rolled my eyes. For the first time in months, life felt… peaceful.My hand rested on my stomach as we walked through the small weekend market near my apartment. The movement came suddenly. A tiny kick. I froze. My eyes widened.“There she goes again.”Mom immediately gasped.“She kicked?”I nodded. Emotion clogging my throat. Every time I felt her move, it felt like a miracle. A tiny reminder that I wasn’t alone, that despite everything I had lost, I had gained something precious, something worth fighting for.Dad placed a protective hand on my shoulder. His eyes softened.“She’s going to be a handful.”I laughed. Something told me he was right. The baby had been active all morning. Kicking. Moving. Reminding me she existed. A little girl. My little
Six months.Emily had been gone for six months and I still couldn’t let her go.“You’re obsessed.”Marcus’s voice barely registered.I continued staring at the laptop screen. Another dead end, another private investigator, another report that led nowhere. No address. No phone number. No university records. Nothing.Emily Kane had vanished completely. It was as if she’d disappeared from the face of the earth.Marcus dropped into the chair opposite my desk.“You know this is becoming unhealthy, right?”I leaned back and rubbed my eyes. I looked terrible. I knew it. The dark circles under my eyes. The exhaustion. The constant frustration.“I’m fine.”Marcus barked out a laugh.“You haven’t smiled in six months.”I ignored him.Because he wasn’t entirely wrong, life had become routine. School. Graduation. Preparing for university. Meetings with my father. Business training and in between all of it… Searching for Emily.The girl who haunted every part of my life. The girl I couldn’t forget
Something felt wrong, not bad, just... different. I stood in the kitchen of my tiny apartment, staring at the cup of coffee in my hand. The smell alone made my stomach turn. My nose wrinkled. I quickly pushed the mug away. A wave of nausea rolled through me."Ugh."I pressed a hand against my stomach, for the past week, I'd been exhausted, constantly tired.Emotional and the nausea seemed to be getting worse.At first, I'd blamed stress. After everything that had happened with Adrian. Leaving Westbridge, moving away and starting over in a new city. Stress seemed like a reasonable explanation but now… I wasn't so sure.My gaze drifted toward the calendar hanging on the wall, my heart skipped then stopped.No.Slowly, I walked closer.Counting the dates.Once.Twice.Three times.The color drained from my face. I was late, very late. My pulse began to race."No."The whisper escaped before I could stop it. My hands started shaking.No. No. No.That wasn't possible or maybe it was. A memo
Three months.Emily had been gone for three months. Ninety-two days. Not that I was counting. I stared at the map pinned to the wall of my bedroom.It was covered in notes. Addresses. Cities. Universities. Job listings. Every possible lead I had managed to find. Every dead end. Every place I thought Emily Kane might be. Every place she wasn't.The map looked ridiculous. Obsessive. Unhealthy. My mother had called it concerning. My father had called it a distraction. I called it hope. Because if I stopped searching, I would have to accept that she was really gone and I wasn't ready for that. Not yet, maybe not ever.A knock sounded on my bedroom door. I didn't answer. The door opened anyway, and my father stepped inside. His gaze immediately landed on the map. The same way it always did, with concern, disappointment and pity. I hated pity, especially from him."You're skipping dinner again."I returned my attention to the map."I'm not hungry.""You haven't been hungry for three mont
The rain had stopped, but the air still carried that fresh, clean scent as we left the greenhouse. Emily’s hand was warm in mine, fingers loosely intertwined like she was still deciding how much she wanted to hold on. After our first real kiss, everything felt different, lighter, but also more frag
The days blurred together in a strange, aching rhythm.I had asked for space, and Aiden was giving it to me exactly as I’d requested. He still came to the library some afternoons, but he sat three tables away, head down in his books, occasionally glancing up with those stormy gray eyes that made m
My hands wouldn’t stop trembling as I walked through the grand iron gates of Westbridge International School. The navy blazer and white shirt I had spent three nights altering still felt foreign against my skin. This uniform, this school, this scholarship, they were our family’s only real chance at
The Voss mansion never felt like home. It felt like a museum built to display wealth no one was around to enjoy. Twenty thousand square feet of marble, crystal, and silence. I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window in the west wing living room, swirling a glass of my father’s twenty-year-old whiskey.






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