Wow. What a journey itâs been, right? Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sticking with me through this wild, emotional journey. Arella and Lincoln's story has been so close to my heart, and I hope itâs touched yours too. Your support means more than words can say, and Iâm so grateful for every single one of you, you guys are the real MVPs. â¤ď¸ P.S. If you loved this story, Iâd be over the moon if you gave my future books a read. Trust me, more heart-tugging, exciting stories are coming your way! Until next time, Tarina (â â â âżâ â â )â ââ â
[Arella]I whip around, eyes widening as I practically leap off Lincoln's lap in surprise."You're here!" I blurt, caught off guard but grinning. "I thought you said you couldnât make it."Standing there, looking sheepish and a little road-worn, is Deric. He scratches the back of his head, wearing that same awkward, harmless smile he has these days."I wouldnât have made it," he admits, voice a little raspy from travel, "but my flight was delayed... so I thought, what the hell, why not crash the party anyway?""Deric," Lincoln says, stepping up beside me, his hand still resting easy at my waist."Lincoln," Deric replies with a short nod, his voice even.There's a brief pauseâmore out of old habits than real tensionâbefore Deric extends his hand. Lincoln studies him for a beat, then accepts the handshake without hesitation, the corners of his mouth lifting in a faint, civil smile.The tightness I hadn't even realized was clenching my chest slowly eases."This is, uh, for your son," Der
3 MONTHS LATER[Arella]"Grandpa really outdid himself this time, Mila," I laugh under my breath, wide-eyed as I take in the mansion decked out like something straight out of a storybook. I shouldâve known better when he said heâd âtake care of everything.â With Grandpa, thatâs just secret code for âgo big enough to make even fairy tales jealous.âMila giggles, but then her face goes pale. "Well, we all know howâ"She cuts herself off, rushing to her son, whoâs happily stuffing his face with edible flowers."Oh my God, Wayne! Spit that out!" she yells, running after him."No no! Cakeee!" he laughs, trying to run away.I roll my eyes and snatch the small board of tasks from her hands. "Looks like youâve got your hands full already with this little turd," I mutter, pinching Wayneâs chubby cheeks. He sticks his tongue out at me, playful as ever. I shake my head and take the board from her, walking around the room, coordinating with the staff to make sure everythingâs perfect.****"Why a
[Arella]TWO MONTHS LATERThe courtroom is cold, Not physicallyâbut emotionally. It's almost too quiet.My hands sit frozen in my lap, unmoving for the past five minutes. A dull, anxious ache hums beneath my skin, but I canât bring myself to shift. Lincoln sits beside me, our fingers tightly laced, grounding me. His other hand works swiftly over his phone, typing out what Iâm sure are urgent work emails.Work had only gotten busier since he resumed.Youâd think having two CEOs would make things easier. It only doubled our workload.I had tried to argue my way into stepping down, maybe becoming his VP or something less suffocatingâbut Lincoln wasnât having any of it.Apex Conglomerate was clawing its way into the worldâs elite, growing bigger, louder, more powerful by the dayâand Lincoln made it crystal clear he wouldnât let me miss a second of it.I blink myself back to the present as the judge adjusts his glasses, his stern gaze dropping down to the man standing trial.The man who a
[Lincoln]The car pulls up to Witmoore Gardens, a private area owned by the Sawyers for intimate family events, tucked away from the noisy chaos of the outside world. The afternoon sun kisses the neatly trimmed hedges and the white blossoms that line the entrance sway gently in the breeze.I can't help the heavy thump of my heart at the thought of seeing my family again. A real, physical ache throbs inside my chest as the driver cuts the engine and we step out.We exist the car and take a slow walk down the stone-cobbled path, the soft crunch of gravel beneath our shoes filling the warm, floral-scented air. Arellaâs hand is securely locked in mine, her presence grounding me even as my nerves threaten to tangle my steps."Your palms are sweaty, Linc. Are you nervous?" she teases softly, giving me a look so warm and tender it makes my heart trip in my chest like a reckless drum."Maybe," I reply, my voice coming out lower and raspier than intended.Her grin only grows. "Aww, they don't
[Lincoln]I mean, sure, Arella and I appeared on TV a few days ago when the Mayor of Chicago wanted to publicly appreciate our efforts, and I knewârationallyâthat everyone must know I'm alive now. But I didn't expect this.I didn't expect the entire airport to already be flooded like a damn concert just to catch a glimpse of us. The jet had barely touched the runway, the tires still hissing from contact, and yet-itâs like the whole damn city of San Diego decided to show up for a party.From the distance, the sharp staccato of camera shutters echoes through the thick, humid air, flashes popping like fireworks across the runway. The chaotic chorus of reporters shouting questions and calling our names roars louder with every step we descend.A cheeky, loopsided grin spreads across Arellaâs face as we start down the stairs of the jet, her hand still tightly locked with mine, her spirit practically buzzing with unbothered amusement. Her entire energy screams: I own this moment."You're lov