MasukVICTORIAFour years laterThe air feels different today — softer, lighter, almost unreal.The sun pours gently over the gardens of Valemont estate, painting the marble white and the grass gold.Children run barefoot across the lawn, their laughter spilling through the breeze like music.I am standin
******************************************************************************************CHASEThe music floats across the beach, slow and warm, the kind that makes the night feel softer than it is.Fairy lights sway in the ocean breeze, and laughter ripples through the guests as I stand near the
VICTORIAThe sand is warm under my heels as we walk down the narrow path leading to the beach, the faint hum of waves mixing with distant laughter.My hand rests lightly on my belly, the other laced tightly with Chase’s because I still can’t believe this is real — that he’s this happy, that we are.
I pretend not to notice, but something cracks quietly inside me.On the jet, she wasn’t exaggerating about sleeping. The moment she sits down, she curls up, adjusts the blanket, and shuts her eyes without a word. I sit across from her and just… stare as the engines hum softly, clouds drift past the
CHASE“That’s it. Close that laptop; we’ll be late,” I say, standing from the couch at House of Valemont, telling her for the tenth time, pretending she didn’t hear me.Victoria doesn’t even flinch. Her eyes stay fixed on the screen, the faint light tracing her sharp cheekbones as she scrolls. “One
The entire ride to House of Valemont, I can’t calm down. I keep rehearsing my steps, my greetings, my smile. My mind runs wild with what-ifs—what if nothing’s the same, what if I walk in and everyone stares? What if I can’t do this? but I try to remain strong until we get there.Once we finally arr
CHASEI hate hospitals. The sterile walls, the endless beeping, the constant smell of antiseptic—it all feels like a prison I can’t escape.Three whole weeks. Well, two of them I was in a coma, but still, three damn weeks of being poked and monitored.The doctors refuse to discharge me. They claim t
I wait.Then, at last, the double doors swing open and a doctor in green scrubs steps into the room, her mask pulled down, eyes tired but calm. She’s flanked by a nurse with a clipboard.“Miss St. James?” she calls, her voice quiet but clear.I spring to my feet so fast the chair screeches against t
“…the future of Stelux Global remains uncertain as CEO Chase Sterling remains in a coma. Sources close to the board indicate discussions have begun regarding the appointment of an interim CEO, should Mr. Sterling remain incapacitated…”“Fuck,” I gasp, the word breaking out of me before I can stop it
VICTORIAIt’s been two weeks, yet the hospital still feels endless — the same sterile corridors, echo of footsteps, and rhythmic hum of machines that mark the passing hours.The scent of antiseptic has sunk into my clothes, hair, and skin. Even when I leave for a quick shower and change, it follows







