Mag-log inDesmond’s POV“Aria, are you alright?”I reached the guest washroom seconds after her.The door remained partially open while Aria leaned heavily against the sink, one hand gripping the marble counter tightly as she vomited again into the basin. Her breathing sounded uneven afterwards, exhaustion visibly pulling at her body beneath the harsh overhead lighting.Something tightened inside my chest immediately.Tonight alone had already pushed beyond normal limits. The explosion beneath Whitmore Holdings. Hailey being drugged. The surveillance devices hidden throughout our home. Every hour seemed to uncover another layer of violation.And now this.Aria rinsed her mouth slowly before keeping both hands pressed against the edge of the sink like she needed the support to remain upright.“I’m fine,” she whispered.I knew instantly she was lying.Because Aria only used that tone when she was trying to minimise something serious.I stepped closer carefully. “You’ve been sick twice tonight.”“
Aria’s POVThe apartment suddenly felt too quiet. Not peaceful but wrong.Hailey stood between us, holding her teddy bear, while complete innocence rested across her face, completely unaware of the tension that had frozen the entire room after her mention of Evans Grant.Dead men did not visit children.My pulse began tightening slowly beneath my ribs while Desmond crouched slightly in front of her, keeping his expression calm despite the sharpness settling into his eyes.“When did Uncle Evans come here?” he asked gently.Hailey looked between both of us before answering casually.“Earlier.”“How much earlier?”She shrugged lightly. “Right after I had my supper.”I exchanged a glance with Desmond.The timing alone unsettled me immediately because neither of us had informed anyone outside Valencia about our location tonight after leaving Whitmore Holdings.Desmond kept his tone even.“What did he want?”“He was looking for you.”My throat tightened faintly.“And what happened after tha
Third Person POVRain moved steadily against the glass walls surrounding the penthouse while the city below disappeared beneath layers of midnight haze and distant lights.The private suite remained silent except for the soft crackle of fire burning inside the modern fireplace near the centre of the room. Expensive artwork lined the dark walls while low jazz drifted faintly through hidden speakers overhead, creating an atmosphere almost elegant enough to disguise the violence quietly unfolding beneath it.Almost.Aviel Beckham stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows with a glass of wine resting loosely between her fingers. The city reflected faintly across the glass in front of her, but her attention remained elsewhere entirely.Whitmore Holdings survived the explosion.That fact irritated her more than she cared to admit.Desmond Howard adapted faster than expected, and Aria Whitmore had stopped responding to fear the way she once did. The frightened, emotionally unstable girl Aviel
Aria’s POVThe fire alarms continued screaming throughout Whitmore Holdings long after the explosion underground.Smoke drifted through the executive archive floor while emergency responders flooded the building beneath flashing red lights and controlled security barricades. Valencia personnel coordinated evacuation routes alongside firefighters moving equipment through the corridor, while tactical teams sealed every access point connected to the hidden chamber beneath the archives.The entire building felt wounded.Exposed.For years, Whitmore Holdings had projected stability and power. Tonight, it looked like the inside of a collapsing lie.Earlier, we were going to meet Jane, but the paramedics came, and we waited to be examined.I stood near the far side of the executive floor while paramedics examined the cuts along Desmond’s shoulder and neck beneath the harsh emergency lighting. Dust still clung to his black shirt and coat, while traces of dried blood darkened the fabric near h
Desmond’s POVFor several seconds after the explosion, I heard nothing except the violent ringing flooding my ears.Smoke rolled heavily through the underground chamber while fire crawled across the collapsed remains of Fred Whitmore’s hidden office. The concrete walls themselves seemed to groan beneath the damage as fragments of burning paper drifted slowly through the air like dying ash.Aria remained beneath me, coughing violently against my chest.“Desmond…”“I’m here.”My own voice sounded distorted somehow.Too far away.Pain tore through my shoulder and ribs as I pushed myself upright, shielding Aria from falling debris while emergency alarms screamed faintly somewhere beyond the collapsed corridor outside.Kingsley emerged first through the smoke several feet away, blood running down the side of his forehead beneath layers of dust and debris.“James!”“Here,” James answered hoarsely from near the ruined entrance.Part of the underground passage had collapsed inward completely.
Desmond’s POVDarkness swallowed the underground office instantly after the monitor died.The surveillance feed vanished together with the overhead lighting, while the hidden chamber beneath Whitmore Holdings fell into abrupt silence, broken only by the low mechanical groan moving somewhere through the structure above us. For several seconds, nobody spoke. The sudden blackout altered the atmosphere completely, stripping away the illusion that tonight had ever been under our control.Kingsley reacted first, drawing a tactical torch from inside his jacket while James moved instinctively towards the hidden entrance with his weapon already raised.A narrow beam of white light sliced through the darkness.Dust drifted slowly through the underground office while long shadows stretched across the concrete walls surrounding us. The old photographs scattered across Fred Whitmore’s desk looked almost distorted beneath the shifting light, fragments of a dead family trapped inside somebody else’s







