LOGIN“Mommy, is he really coming today?”
Aria’s voice came out bright and excited as she munched on a piece of toast, crumbs dusting her lips. Her feet swung beneath the kitchen stool, tapping the rung with happy impatience. Elena poured coffee into her chipped white mug, trying to keep her voice steady. “That’s what the email said.” She stirred the coffee slowly, though she’d already added the sugar. Her fingers trembled just a little, the spoon clinking against the ceramic. “Maybe he’ll see my new drawing!” Aria said, jumping down from the chair to grab her backpack. “I drew a family this time. Me and you and Mr. Rabbit.” Elena smiled faintly. “That sounds perfect, sweetheart.” But when Aria turned to grab her shoes, Elena’s smile faded. She hadn’t slept well. Every time she’d closed her eyes last night, she’d seen him—standing there, tall and composed, his expression unreadable yet hauntingly familiar. She took a slow sip of coffee, the warmth grounding her. “Just one day,” she whispered to herself. “He’ll visit, he’ll leave, and life will go back to normal.” But a small, nervous part of her heart didn’t believe that. At the school, the usual hum of morning chaos buzzed louder than usual. Word had spread — the famous Adrian Blackwood was back. Teachers whispered by the hallways, straightening their ties and smoothing skirts as if the billionaire might notice them. Elena signed Aria in, her pulse quickening when she heard his name down the hall. “Mr. Blackwood will be observing the primary classes first,” one of the teachers said. “And maybe the art room later.” The art room. Aria’s class. Of course. Elena exhaled slowly, reminding herself she had no reason to panic. She wasn’t that Elena anymore. The naïve girl who once loved him so completely didn’t exist now. Adrian arrived fifteen minutes later. The entire air seemed to change with his presence — quieter, sharper. He looked effortlessly out of place in the small school corridor, his navy suit pressed, his watch gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Yet, when he smiled, it wasn’t rehearsed. “Good morning,” he greeted the teacher, shaking hands politely before glancing into the classroom. The children were busy painting — splashes of color everywhere. Among them, a little girl with dark curls bent over her paper, tongue poking out slightly as she focused. Aria. He watched her for a few seconds, something soft flickering in his chest. She had that fearless energy kids have when they feel safe — and yet, there was a seriousness in her eyes when she concentrated, a kind of thoughtfulness that didn’t belong to most five-year-olds. “Would you like to see their work, Mr. Blackwood?” the teacher asked, breaking his stare. “Yes,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. He stepped closer, crouching beside Aria’s table. She looked up and grinned instantly. “You came back!” Adrian smiled before he could help it. “I said I would.” “I drew my family,” Aria said proudly, holding up the paper. “See? That’s me, that’s Mommy, and that’s Mr. Rabbit.” He chuckled softly. “You’re a very good artist.” Aria tilted her head, studying him. “You don’t draw?” “Not anymore.” “You should,” she said matter-of-factly. “You look like you forget to have fun.” Adrian blinked, momentarily speechless. It wasn’t often anyone spoke to him like that — not adults, certainly not children. He laughed quietly. “You might be right.” From across the room, Elena froze at the sound of his voice. She’d stopped by to drop off a folder for the teacher — or at least, that’s what she told herself. But seeing them together like that — her daughter laughing with him, so naturally — made her chest tighten. He didn’t know. He had no idea. And yet, the way he looked at Aria made her knees weak. After class, Adrian waited outside the building, his phone in hand but untouched. When Elena stepped out, their eyes met for the first time that morning. “Miss Hart,” he said politely, his voice carrying that same calm authority. She nodded, clutching the folder against her chest. “Mr. Blackwood.” “I didn’t realize your daughter was in the art class.” Elena forced a faint smile. “Yes. She loves it.” “She’s… remarkable,” he said, his tone softening as he spoke. “There’s something about her. She’s—” He paused, searching for the right word. “—bright.” Elena’s throat tightened. “She takes after… her mother.” Their eyes met, and for a moment, the noise of the school faded. There was a pull between them — something neither of them wanted to acknowledge, but both felt all the same. Adrian cleared his throat, adjusting his cufflink. “You look familiar,” he said suddenly. Elena froze. “Do I?” He frowned slightly, studying her face as though trying to place a memory. “I’m certain we’ve met before.” Panic fluttered in her chest. “I don’t think so,” she said too quickly. He tilted his head, unconvinced. “You sure?” Elena tightened her grip on the folder, forcing a small laugh. “I’d remember meeting a billionaire.” Adrian’s lips quirked. “I’m not as interesting as the papers make it sound.” “Right,” she said, smiling faintly, though her hands felt cold. He gave her a small nod, glancing toward the parking lot. “It was good seeing you, Miss Hart. And your daughter.” As he turned to leave, Elena exhaled shakily. She waited until he’d reached his car before letting herself sink against the wall, her heart pounding. But just as she tried to steady herself, a small voice called out from behind her. “Mommy?” Elena turned. Aria was holding up her drawing — the one she’d shown Adrian earlier. But this time, there was something new on it. A fourth figure. A tall man beside the others. “Who’s that?” Elena asked carefully. Aria smiled. “That’s Mr. Blackwood.” Elena’s stomach dropped. “Why?” “Because,” Aria said simply, “he looked like he belonged.”Lydia’s legs felt heavy as she approached the agreed-upon meeting spot, the street quiet except for the distant hum of traffic. Her mind churned with questions, worry, and the guilt that wouldn’t leave her alone. She knew Elena would be furious if she discovered that Lydia had withheld information about Aria. But she reminded herself again: this wasn’t about trust. This was about keeping Aria safe. She would bring her home…today.From the shadows, Ethan stepped forward. Tall, calm, his expression unreadable. “Lydia,” he said quietly. “Come with me. Quickly.”Lydia stiffened. “Come with you to… where?” Her voice carried the tension and suspicion she felt coursing through her veins.“To my car,” he replied, voice steady, almost gentle, as if reading the wariness in her eyes. “We can talk more there.”She hesitated, staring at him. Her instincts screamed caution. Every fiber of her being told her not to trust him, not yet. But another part—the part t
Adrian pushed the door open without knocking, breath still sharp from the hours he’d spent combing the streets. Lydia’s living room felt smaller than when he had left—tight, dim, suffocating with fear. Elena sat on the edge of the couch, her hands shaking around Aria’s tiny denim jacket. The sight hit him like a punch to the sternum.She looked up the moment she sensed movement.“Adrian?” Her voice cracked. “Did you… did you find her?”He closed the door behind him, forcing himself to breathe evenly. He didn’t want her to read the truth in his eyes—the fact that he hadn’t even found a trace. The fact that every minute felt like sand slipping through his fingers.He stepped closer, dropping to one knee in front of her. His hands cupped her face, thumbs brushing the remnants of dried tears.“Elena,” he murmured, keeping his voice steady, “I’m not done searching.”Her eyelids fluttered, fear tightening her shoulders.“But y
Lydia halted so abruptly that a passing cyclist had to swerve around her. Her breath hitched in her throat, Ethan’s words echoing over and over until they no longer sounded real:“Aria is with me.”For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. The late afternoon street blurred around her — cars, conversations, footsteps — everything fading except the tall figure standing a few feet away.She turned sharply, eyes wide, voice barely steady.“What… what do you mean she’s with you?”Ethan didn’t move.Her pulse spiked painfully. “Answer me. Where did you see her? How did you find her? What were you even doing at the fountain? And why have you still been following me ever since you asked me about Elena and Adrian?”Her voice trembled with adrenaline, though she tried to force it still.He had approached her once.Then again.Now he was trailing her.Her suspicion sharpened until it cut like glass.“Are you stal
The bell’s ring still echoed faintly in Lydia’s ears as she stepped out of the school compound, her bag resting loosely over one shoulder. The late afternoon sun was dipping low, casting warm streaks of gold across the street. Under normal circumstances, she would have savored the calm—students laughing in clusters, car horns blending with scattered chatter, the faint scent of fried snacks drifting from a nearby kiosk.But today, nothing felt normal.Her mind had been spiraling ever since Elena collapsed in her living room. Ever since Adrian stormed out in search for Aria. Ever since Aria vanished without a trace.Lydia had barely slept. Every sound had jolted her awake. Every second, her mind replayed Elena’s shaky voice, Adrian’s clenched jaw, the panic that filled the air like smoke.She tightened her grip on her phone. No missed calls. No text messages. Nothing.Elena was still at her house, refusing to leave in case Adrian returned w
Ethan’s hands were stiff on the wheel the entire drive home. Not from fear of being followed—he knew the city too well to be tailed—but from the turmoil boiling under his ribs.This is wrong.This is stupid.Nathan will skin you alive for this.Then he glanced at the rear-view mirror.Aria was curled in the seat, small hands gripping her bracelet like it was the only solid piece of the world left. Her nose was pink from crying. She tried to blink away the tears, but they kept sliding down her cheeks one by one.The sight ripped something open in him.He exhaled slowly. “We’re almost there,” he said softly.She didn’t answer. She only held onto her little bracelet tighter.When they reached his apartment complex, Ethan parked in the underground lot—quiet, private. As he came around to open the back door, Aria stiffened.He crouched low, bringing himself to her eye level. “Aria… I’m not going to hurt you.
“Mommy? Where are you…mommy?”Aria’s tiny voice drifted through the afternoon air—small, trembly, and confused.Ethan froze behind the hedge, breath catching. There she was. Aria. Standing alone near the cobblestone path, turning left and right with wide, frightened eyes. The butterfly she’d chased had already fluttered far off, leaving her lost, clutching the little bracelet in her fist.“Mommy…? Aunt Lydia…?” Her voice cracked this time, fear leaking through.She spun in a slow circle, lips trembling. Ethan’s stomach twisted. He had watched the whole thing from a distance—how she’d wandered farther than she realized, how the fountain’s curve had blocked her line of sight, how panic began tightening her small shoulders.A rustle to his right. One of Nathan’s female operatives—Talia—stepped out from behind a cluster of trimmed shrubs. She smoothed her blouse, softened her expression, and walked toward Aria with careful steps.“He
The office was quiet, almost eerily so, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft tapping of Adrian’s fingers against the polished desk. His coffee sat untouched, cooling slowly, while his sharp eyes scanned multiple screens displaying maps, phone pings, and financial trails. Eac
The morning light spilled gently across the estate, brushing the edges of the room with gold. Adrian sat at the edge of the porch, coffee in hand, his eyes tracing the calm waves below. For a brief moment, the weight of the past days felt lighter, almost bearable. But the faint line of tension in
The morning air was thick, humid, pressing lightly against Elena’s skin as she stepped out onto the porch. The seaside estate, usually bathed in a serene hush, felt heavier somehow — the sea beyond shimmering with a stillness that made her chest tighten. She half-expected Adrian to appear from ar
The morning light spilled softly through the linen curtains, pale and golden, filling the seaside house with a warmth Elena hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. The hum of the waves outside was gentle, almost like a lullaby — a sound that seemed to promise safety. For the first time in weeks,







