LOGINMadam Lia POVI do not believe in coincidence. I do not believe in it in business, in family, and certainly not in fate. Everything can be guided, positioned, and arranged. This includes people, and it especially includes my son.I stir my tea slowly as I watch the sunlight stretch across the private dining room. Everything is prepared. The setting is quiet, elegant, and controlled, which is exactly how I like it. The staff knows better than to interrupt me today. Today is important, not for the company, but for something far more fragile. It is for my son and the life he forgot.I have spent months observing him as he returned to the world and to his empire. He has returned to the man he used to be. He is cold, controlled, and untouchable. But something is different now. Something is missing, and something has become soft. I know exactly where that softness went. It went to Cliffhaven, to Avelin Mirei, and to the child who is my grandson.I close my eyes briefly. I remember the first
Avelin POVThe house is quiet. It is the kind of quiet that settles deep into your bones. Baby Shen is sitting on the floor with his legs spread and crayons scattered around him. He is drawing again. He does that a lot now. His small hands grip the crayon too tightly, and his tongue peeks out in concentration as he hums softly. That sound feels like home and heartbreak at the same time because he learned it from Shen. He learned it from his papa.I stand in the doorway for a moment to watch and memorize the scene because moments like this slip away too fast."Daddy," he says suddenly."Hmm?"He does not look up. "Papa's hair is black, right?"My chest tightens. "Yes," I say softly. "It is black.""And his eyes are blue.""Yes."He nods as if that confirms something important, then he keeps drawing.I walk closer and kneel beside him. "What are you drawing?" I ask gently.He holds it up proudly. "It is us."I take the paper and my heart stops. There are three figures. They are stick-li
Avelin POVI should not be here. That is the first thought in my head as I step into the break room. It is too small, too quiet, and too easy to get trapped inside. But I need coffee. I need something to steady my hands because ever since the elevator, ever since the moment my body knew he was coming before my eyes did, I have not been able to breathe properly.I move quickly with my eyes down. I focus on the coffee machine, the cup, and the routine because they are simple and safe. I reach for the mug.The door opens.I freeze. I do not need to look. The bond flares in a way that is hot, immediate, and too aware. I turn slowly, and there he is. Leander stands in the doorway with a perfect suit, perfect posture, and perfect control, except for his eyes. They lock onto mine, and something in them breaks just slightly. It looks like he feels it, too. Of course he does.We stand there as two people in a room too small for what exists between us. Neither of us moves, and neither of us spe
Leander POVI do not sleep. I lie in bed with my eyes open and stare at the ceiling. Every time I close them, I see him. I see Avelin standing in that kitchen and breathing against my mouth. He was close enough to kiss and close enough to break everything.I drag a hand down my face and exhale slowly. I have built my entire life on control, yet yesterday I almost lost it because of him. I almost lost it because of something I do not even understand.I sit up. The sheets are cold and empty. They have been empty for months, but last night they felt wrong. It felt as if someone was supposed to be there, like I am missing something I cannot name.I stand abruptly. Work is simple, structured, and it makes sense. Avelin does not. I get dressed in silence. My suit, tie, and watch are all precise and controlled. This is everything I know.I arrive at the office earlier than usual. The building is quiet and still waking up. I do not want distractions, so I walk straight to my office."Good mor
Avelin POVHis hand is still on my face. It is warm and steady, perhaps too steady. His thumb brushes my cheek, and my breath stops. He is so close. He is close enough that I can feel his breath against my lips and close enough that everything else disappears. The kitchen, the apartment, and the past are all gone. There is only him, and there is only this.The bond screams. It is loud, demanding, alive, and pulling me toward him like gravity. And for one dangerous, reckless moment, I want it. I want him. I do not want the old Shen. I want Leander, the man standing in front of me. His eyes darken, and I know he feels it too. He leans in slowly and carefully, like he is giving me time to stop him. I do not. I do not move, and I do not breathe.And then his phone rings.It is loud and sharp. It cuts through everything, and we both jump like we have been caught doing something wrong. Maybe we have. The sound keeps ringing. It is persistent and demanding."I should…" he starts."Yes," I sa
Leander POVI was not prepared for this. I was not even close. I thought I was, and I told myself I was, but the moment the door opened, everything I thought I knew disappeared.Because he was there.He was small, fragile, and bright, with those eyes. They were my eyes, and they were staring back at me. Something inside me broke open. It did not happen gently or slowly, but violently and completely, because this was my child. I did not remember him. I did not remember creating him. But my body, my instincts, and my very bones knew him.And when he said, "Hi Papa… I'm Shen," I stopped breathing. When he hugged me, the world ended and began again.His arms were small, warm, and trusting. He did not hesitate or question; he just believed in me because Avelin had taught him to. My arms closed around him without thought, like they were always meant to be there. I held him tight. I held him too tight because I did not know how else to do this.And I realized: I had missed three years. I had
Shen POVI didn’t sleep that night. No matter how I tried to close my eyes or rest my body, sleep refused to come. Every time my mind drifted toward exhaustion, I saw it again, flashed in my mind with cruel clarity. The car. The man. His lips moving, the cold certainty in his voice whispering, “Soo
Avelin — POVI was washing up after dinner when I heard Father and Elder Tomas talking in the sitting room.I wasn't trying to listen. The kitchen shared a thin wall with the sitting room, and Elder Tomas, who was seventy-eight and had decided some decades ago that volume was a courtesy owed to the
Conrad Vladmoss — POVI've read about amnesia. More than I'd like to admit. I know it can be unpredictable, fragmentary. It can last for years, or it can shatter open from something small: a familiar smell, a piece of music, the way light shifts through a window, the wrong name spoken in the right
Conrad Vladmoss POVI have been in this hotel room for three days, the curtains drawn tight against the outside world. Maps are spread across the bed, cluttered with markings and circled towns, each one a potential hiding spot or a place to find him. Cold coffee sits on the desk beside my laptop,







