LOGINSophia's POV"He's not eating the mashed potatoes, Ms. Eleanor. Maybe a smaller spoon."Emma spoke softly, almost with reverence. My grandmother, Eleanor Morgan, had Liam in her lap and held the spoon with an elegance that didn't match the situation.The dining room was silent, only the sound of cutlery and Lizzie's breathing as she swung her legs in the high chair."Don't worry, he seems to eat fine," Eleanor replied without looking at Emma. Her voice was clear, but not harsh. Liam opened his mouth, and she placed the spoon inside, with a patience I never imagined she had.Michael, beside me, stayed quiet. So did I. It had been four days since the photo. Four days since I discovered Richard Pierce was the man who killed the woman who raised me. The memory still hurt, like a wound you accidentally poke.I looked at Liam. He was calmer. He slept through the night. He played without fear. Just two days ago, he would cry at a loud noise.Now, he smiled at Eleanor as she gave him another
Victoria's POV"Cousin, put the gun down, for God's sake!"Lila spoke with wide eyes, looking from me to Lucas and back to me. Her voice trembled, but there was a thread of defiance in her gaze. That same look of superiority she'd always had when we were kids.Lucas, however, seemed completely uninterested in our family drama. He walked past us with a deliberate step, starting to search the apartment. He opened drawers, rifled through papers on an elegant table, looking for something. He left us alone in the small living room.I still had the gun pointed at her face, but my hands were shaking."Where is Alexander?" I screamed, pressing the barrel closer. "Where is he and my son, you wretch?!"Lila took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I don't know! He left me here finishing packing. I swear!""You think I'm an idiot?" I snarled. "The moment we walked in, you thought it was him. He's close by. And you definitely know where Liam is too!"She bit her lip, and I saw something be
Victoria's POV"It's been three days since you said you knew where they were, you idiot! And still, nothing!" I screamed, pulling at the chain that fastened my wrist to the car's door handle. The skin was red and raw. "Let me go. Let me at least take a shower!"Lucas, at the wheel, glanced away from the road for a second to look at me. A slow, cruel smile spread across his lips."No, Victoria. Just no. You won't have any hygiene until I say so."He accelerated slightly, as if my anger amused him."And you know what? I love seeing you like this. Dirty. It's the perfect reflection of what you are on the inside. Complete trash."I swallowed the sob of rage and humiliation. I went back to staring out the window at the trees blurring past in the dark. I didn't know where we were going.I only knew each minute was another minute farther from Liam.After another hour of oppressive silence, Lucas exited the highway and entered a small town. White Plains, the sign read. A New York suburb. He
Sophia’s POV“I apologize for the hour,” she said, her voice more restrained than I remembered from the gala. “And for the intrusion.”Michael took a deep breath.“I’ll let the two of you talk,” he murmured, turning to me. “Soph, if you need me, I’m right here.”He was already moving to leave when Eleanor discreetly extended a hand.“Stay, Carter. I want you to stay too.”Michael and I exchanged a look. I felt a sudden chill realizing I was only in a t-shirt and sleep shorts, and instinctively crossed my arms.“You can come in,” I invited, stepping back into the living room.Eleanor entered the room and placed her compact, elegant suitcase beside the sofa. She looked like she had come from a formal meeting, not the deserted streets in the middle of the night.She remained standing, observing me, then Michael, with a calm that contrasted with the turmoil inside me.“I came to stay,” she declared again, the words clear and resolute. “With you, my granddaughter.”Michael positioned himse
Sophia’s POVI woke up without that hammering in my temples. That was the first pleasant surprise of the day. The second was the sound coming from the living room: laughter.Children's laughter. Two of them.I got out of bed, stretched, and went to the door. On the living room rug, in the soft morning light, Liam and Lizzie were sitting in a sea of colorful blocks.Liam, serious and focused, was stacking a blue block on a red one. Lizzie, with that almost-two-year-old way about her, was slapping her little hands on the blocks, making the tower wobble.Liam didn't get annoyed, he just put his little hand behind the construction to stabilize it and smiled at her."Look, Liz. It's standing up."She laughed, a bubbly, cute sound, and tried to imitate, grabbing a yellow block.I stood in the doorway, watching. It was such a simple, common scene, and yet so impossible.Liam, the son of my greatest enemies, protecting the block tower of my best friend's daughter. Innocence, completely ignori
Victoria's POVThe world came back in pieces.First came the smell: mold, cheap disinfectant, and something sweet and rotten.Then the pain: throbbing in my wrists, my back, my head. Then, consciousness: I was sitting on a hard wooden chair, my hands tied behind my back, my ankles secured to the chair's legs.I looked down. My silk dress, the one from the Gala, was torn and dirty.My legs, always impeccably smooth and tanned, were scratched and covered in bruises. I tried to wiggle my fingers. They responded, but tingled.How long had I been there?Daylight filtered through a dirty window, illuminating a Spartan room: peeling walls, an old mattress on the floor, a plastic table. A cheap motel room. Or worse.The door opened.I didn't need to turn my head to know who it was. The heavy footsteps, the way of breathing.Lucas.He walked in and went straight to the window, yanking the worn fabric curtain aside with force. The harsh morning sunlight flooded the room, cruel and too bright.I







