INICIAR SESIÓN[David's POV]
The scotch was a 2018 Macallan, and I was on my second pour when the phone rang.
Not my personal cell phone — the landline in my study. The one almost no one had the number for. I looked at the handset on the desk, frowning. Lily had gone home to rest. The press conference had exhausted her — or rather, her performance of exhaustion had exhauste
[David's POV]The question hit me like a physical blow. Not because of its content, but because of the way he asked it. There was no nuance in his voice. No acknowledgment of the complexity, no recognition of the fact that both of the women at risk, were carrying my child. He asked it the way you'd ask someone to choose between saving a stranger or saving nothing."Lily is pregnant," I said."I know she's pregnant." Adam's voice was low, controlled, dangerous in a way I had never heard before.In all his business dealings, I had seen Adam Ballard negotiate with cold precision, dismantle opponents with surgical verbal precision, and maintain absolute composure in situations that would have broken lesser men. I had never once seen him lose his temper.
[David's POV]The scotch was a 2018 Macallan, and I was on my second pour when the phone rang.Not my personal cell phone — the landline in my study. The one almost no one had the number for. I looked at the handset on the desk, frowning. Lily had gone home to rest. The press conference had exhausted her — or rather, her performance of exhaustion had exhausted her, which was a distinction I had learned not to examine too closely.Adam was sitting across from me, in the leather armchair by the window. He had arrived an hour ago, unannounced, which was unusual. Adam Ballard didn't do unannounced. He scheduled everything — meetings, calls, meals, even emotions, as far as I could tell — and the fact that he had shown up at my door without warning told me something was wrong before he even opened
[Alice's POV]"It's done," she said. "The call has been made. David has twenty minutes to decide."I could sense her crouching in front of me again. This time, she reached out and — with a swift, almost casual motion — pulled the blindfold off.The light was blinding. Not bright light — dim, fluorescent, the kind of flat institutional lighting you find in parking garages and storage facilities. But after the absolute darkness, even dim light was agony. I squinted, my eyes watering, and it took several seconds for the room to resolve into focus.Concrete walls. Low ceiling. No windows. A single metal door. Two men standing near it — large, expressionless, dressed in dark clothing, their faces obscured by the hoods of their jackets. A chair in the corner where Lily had been sitting. And in front of me, close enough to touch, Lily herself.She looked exactly as she had at the press conference. White dress. Hair down. Gold chain at her throat. The tiny swell of her stomach visible beneath
[Alice's POV]"No, Alice." Her voice was patient now. Informative. Just like a school teacher. The voice of someone explaining something obvious to a slow child."I solved a problem. There's a difference. Zorro was a liability. He had outlived his usefulness, and he was about to become an active threat. In any other context — in business, in politics, in war — removing a threat is not murder. It's strategy. It's survival."I heard her stand up from the chair. Footsteps — slow, deliberate, circling me. I tracked her by sound alone, turning my head slightly as she moved, maintaining what little awareness I could without my sight."But we're not here to talk about Zorro," she said, and the playfulness was back, light and cruel. "Zorro is over. Zorro is done. Zorro is a footnote — if that. By the time the police release his name, no one will care, because the story will have moved on. David and I will be planning a wedding. The baby will be due in a few months. And you..."She stopped. Ri
[Alice's POV]"Zorro," she said, and the word came out like she was spitting something foul from her mouth. "That pathetic, miserable, useless cocky man. Do you know what he was going to do? Do you know what he actually — actually — planned?"Her voice rose, and for the first time, the control cracked. Not a lot. Just enough for me to hear what was underneath it — something hot and venomous and utterly devoid of pity."He was going to hold a press conference. For you. He was going to stand up in front of journalists and say 'I lied. Alice McCutchen is innocent. I fabricated everything.' He was going to clear your name. Your name."The last two words were practically spat."After everything I did for him — after I gave him a purpose, a direction, something to live for — he was going to throw it all away for you. A woman he'd met once. A woman he owed nothing to. A woman who looked at him like he was dirt on her shoe. And he was going to destroy everything I'd built, everything I'd spen
[Alice's POV]I remember the smell first.Not the smell of my kitchen, where I had been sitting thirty seconds earlier, scrolling through Noelle's file. Not the smell of my car, or the elevator, or the press room. Something else entirely — chemical, sharp, cloying. Chloroform. My mind supplied its acrid odor from some deep archive of medical knowledge. The real thing, not the movie version. Heavier. Sweeter. More sickening.My second thought, absurdly, was: I didn't hear the door.My third thought was pure confusion: I'm on the floor.My fourth thought never came, because the darkness swallowed everything.---I woke to darkness.Not the soft darkness of a bedroom at night, but a dense, absolute darkness that had weight and texture. A blindfold. Thick fabric, tied tight enough to press against my eyelids, tight enough that I couldn't open my eyes even a fraction.My hands were behind my back — zip ties, I could feel the ridged plastic biting into my wrists. My ankles were bound too, s
Lily‘s PerspectiveWhen I pushed open the heavy front door to Newcombe Manor, I was greeted by the cold, musty smell belonging to the old money class of society.But from tonight onwards, this smell will become much more pleasing to the senses.“Aunt Lily, can I sleep in Mommy’s room tonight?” Cami
[Alice’s POV]“Adam, don‘t blame Camilla,” Lily interjected, putting her arm around Camilla‘s shoulder in a protective gesture. “What does a child know? She just wanted a nice Family Day.”Sarah grabbed my hand and tried to whisper, “Aunt Alice, who are they? They‘re not being nice, are they?” But
[Alice’s POV]Adam lowered me onto the soft sofa, propping pillows under me where I lay. “Stay flat. Don’t strain,” he commanded.Sarah came hurrying back, breathless, holding a plastic cup nearly filled with steaming warm water.“Here, try to drink, lady,” she said, her voice like a soft cloud. “I
[David’s POV]The scotch didn't help. If anything, it just sharpened the edges of my anger.I paced the length of the suite, the plush carpeting doing nothing to muffle the storm raging inside my head. Lily’s refusal hung over me like a toxic cloud. “I won't sign them! I won’t let you do this!”She







