LOGINThe next morning, Dominic went to the hospital with the divorce papers in his hand. He had spent the drive thinking about what he would say. He had imagined walking into Laura’s room, placing the papers in front of her, and finally asking the question that had been sitting inside him since everything began. Why? Why had she done it? Why had she gone this far? Why had she turned his life, Emma’s life, and now Ethan’s life into something so twisted? But when Dominic reached the nurses’ station, the doctor was already waiting for him. “You’re here to see Mrs. Sterling.” “Yes. Address her Laura, not Mrs. Sterling.” The doctor nodded. “She is awake.” Something inside Dominic tightened. “Can I see her?” “You can. But I need you to understand something first.” Dominic waited. “She understands what’s being said to her. She can respond. But she’s still extremely weak, and her throat hasn’t recovered enough for her to speak properly.” Dominic glanced toward the closed door at
Dominic was still in his home office when his lawyers arrived. The mansion had gone quiet. Beyond the closed door, the faint sounds of the household continued—the distant footsteps of staff, the soft click of a door, the hum of the air-conditioning. Inside the office, there was only silence. Dominic sat behind his desk, his sleeves rolled to his forearms, a glass of water untouched beside him. He looked exhausted. But the uncertainty was gone. One of his lawyers opened his folder. “Mr. Sterling, before we proceed, I need to confirm exactly what you want us to—” “Divorce.” The word came without hesitation. The lawyer stopped. Dominic met his eyes. “I want the papers ready tonight.” “We can have the initial petition prepared by tomorrow morning.” “Tonight.” His voice remained calm. That somehow made it more final. The lawyer nodded. “Of course.” Dominic leaned back. “I want everything concerning Laura reviewed.” “Everything?” “Every communication. Every financial
Dominic drove home without remembering the journey. The city passed beyond the windows in a blur of lights, traffic, and unfamiliar faces, but none of it reached him. The detectives’ words kept replaying in his head. Donor sperm. The dates match. Ethan isn’t your biological son. And Laura. Everything she had told him. Everything he had believed. Everything he thought had been real. By the time he stepped inside his house, he felt hollow. He didn’t stop in the living room. Didn’t ask where anyone was. He walked straight to his home office and closed the door behind him. For several minutes, he simply stood there. Then there was a soft knock. The daytime nanny stepped inside cautiously. “Sir?” Dominic looked up. “When you were gone…” she began, a small smile appearing on her face, “…Ethan did something wonderful.” Dominic stared at her. “What?” “He was on his tummy, and he tried to lift himself.” Her smile widened. “He actually held his head up for a few seconds.”
The call came just after Steve left the interrogation room. Dominic answered immediately. “Hello?” “Dominic.” Steve’s voice was unusually serious. “Please come to the precinct as soon as you can.” Dominic’s stomach tightened. “What happened? Have you found the kidnapper?” “I’d rather explain when you get here.” “Is it about Laura?” A pause. “Yes.” Dominic was already reaching for his keys. “Give me twenty minutes.” ——————- He arrived in less than half an hour. The moment he stepped inside, his eyes searched the precinct. Steve was waiting for him with Dan. Dominic walked toward them, his face tense. “What did you find?” Steve studied him for a moment. “Come with us.” They
Dan moved beside him. “What did they find?” Steve looked at his phone again. “The IT cell traced Laura’s other number.” Dan’s expression changed. “Where?” Steve turned the screen toward him. “They found where the number was registered.” Dan read the report. “A fertility clinic?” “Across town.” “Laura used that number there?” “That’s what they’re checking.” Steve slipped the phone into his pocket. “Go check it yourself. We can’t waste any more time.” Dan was already reaching for his jacket. “And the other number?” Steve looked at him. “The one found on Laura’s second phone. The same one found on Brian’s.” “They traced it too?” “Yes.” Steve’s jaw tightened.
The precinct was quieter than it had been earlier that day, but it was far from asleep. Phones rang intermittently behind closed doors. A printer whirred somewhere down the corridor before spitting out a sheet of paper. Footsteps crossed the tiled floor, quick and purposeful, while the fluorescent lights overhead cast everything in a cold, unforgiving white. A cup of stale coffee sat forgotten beside Steve’s elbow. He hadn’t touched it. Neither had Dan. Between them lay Brian’s mobile phone, sealed inside an evidence bag. Steve stared at it for several seconds before speaking. “We have the phone. We have the messages. We have the timeline.” Dan nodded. “But not the confession.” Steve’s gaze remained on the evidence bag. “Not the confession.” Dan leaned against the edge of the desk. “We can still build a case.” “We can.” “But?” Steve finally looked up. “Brian can explain everything away.” Dan’s expression hardened. “He’ll say the messages were ta
Dominic did not sleep. He stood in his study long after Emma locked herself in the guest bedroom upstairs. The house was silent, but the silence was wrong. Too heavy. Too distant. For four years, this house had responded to her. Her perfume in the hallways. Her voice instructing st
The Laurent estate had always felt larger at night. Not grander. Just heavier. The chandeliers cast gold across polished marble floors, across portraits of men who had built empires and lost them, across women who had smiled through wars no one ever wrote about. Emma stood at the entrance be
Morning in the Sterling mansion did not arrive with sunlight. It arrived with silence. Emma woke to stillness so complete it felt curated. The curtains were half drawn, the light filtered into something pale and artificial. The air smelled faintly of Dominic Sterling’s cologne….dark, expensive,
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and fear. Emma hated it. She went alone. She doesn’t have the energy to deal with him. The white walls. The hushed footsteps. The way nurses spoke softly, as if grief might be contagious. She sat on the edge of the examination bed, hands folded in her







