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Tayla’s POV
There was something terrifying about waking up in the middle of the night and realizing the person you loved wasn’t beside you.
At first, I thought I was dreaming.
My hand moved across the king-sized bed, searching for the warmth that had been there when I fell asleep.
Instead, my fingers met cold sheets.
My eyes opened instantly.
The digital clock on the nightstand glowed red.
2:17 AM.
A knot formed in my stomach.
Damian wasn’t there.
I pushed myself upright and looked around the dark bedroom.
The bathroom light was off.
The door was closed.
The room was silent except for the distant hum of traffic from the streets of Manhattan.
For a moment, I tried convincing myself there was a reasonable explanation.
Maybe he couldn’t sleep.
Maybe he was working.
Maybe—
Then I saw the balcony door slightly open.
A cool breeze slipped into the room.
And suddenly, I knew where he was.
I got out of bed and wrapped a silk robe around myself before walking toward the balcony.
The moment I stepped outside, the city unfolded before me.
New York glittered beneath the night sky like a sea of stars.
Towering skyscrapers stretched into the darkness.
Cars moved like streams of light below.
It was beautiful.
Yet the man standing at the railing looked completely out of place against it.
Damian stood with one hand in his pocket while the other gripped a glass of whiskey.
His broad shoulders were tense.
His jaw was clenched.
And his gaze was fixed on something far away.
Something I couldn’t see.
Something that clearly haunted him.
My chest tightened.
For weeks now, I had been watching him become someone I barely recognized.
Not because he treated me differently.
He still kissed me goodbye every morning.
Still asked about my day.
Still tucked Noah into bed whenever he was home early enough.
But there was something hiding beneath the surface.
Something dark.
Something heavy.
And no matter how many times I asked about it, Damian always smiled and told me everything was fine.
I knew he was lying.
The question was why.
I walked toward him slowly.
The cold marble beneath my feet sent chills up my body.
When I reached him, I slipped my arms around his waist from behind.
His entire body stiffened.
Then immediately relaxed.
A quiet breath escaped him.
Almost as though he had been holding it for hours.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I asked softly.
For several seconds, he didn’t answer.
Then he reached down and covered my hands with his.
His fingers were warm.
Familiar.
Comforting.
Yet somehow, tonight they felt different.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.
His voice sounded rough.
Like he hadn’t slept either.
I rested my cheek against his back.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
A faint smile touched his lips.
I could hear it even without seeing his face.
“No.”
“No what?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
I sighed.
“That’s becoming a habit.”
This time he didn’t smile.
And that worried me even more.
Damian finally turned around.
The moment our eyes met, my heart squeezed painfully.
He looked exhausted.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Like a man carrying a burden too heavy to bear alone.
His dark eyes searched mine.
“You should be in bed.”
“So should you.”
A brief silence stretched between us.
The city lights reflected in his eyes.
God.
I loved this man.
I loved him so much it scared me.
Seven years together.
Five years married.
And somehow, I still found myself staring at him like a foolish teenager.
His hand rose and gently brushed a strand of hair away from my face.
The simple gesture made my heart flutter.
It always did.
“You’ve been worrying again,” he murmured.
I laughed softly.
“Maybe because you keep giving me reasons to.”
His expression darkened.
Only slightly.
But I noticed.
I always noticed.
“Tayla—”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I’m serious.”
He looked away.
And that was answer enough.
The knot in my stomach tightened.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Avoiding me.”
His jaw flexed.
The movement was subtle.
But I saw it.
And suddenly I wasn’t sleepy anymore.
I was scared.
“Damian, what’s going on?”
Nothing.
Silence.
Just silence.
The kind of silence that felt louder than words.
Finally, he pulled me closer.
His arms wrapped around my waist.
Strong.
Protective.
The way they always had.
The way they always would.
At least that’s what I wanted to believe.
“I love you.”
The words caught me off guard.
I blinked.
“What?”
A smile appeared on his lips.
A real one this time.
“I said I love you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Nice attempt.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Attempt?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
A laugh escaped him.
The sound was warm.
Comforting.
Familiar.
And for a moment, the tension disappeared.
Just like that.
As though it had never existed.
“Come here.”
Before I could respond, he pulled me against his chest.
My hands settled over his heart.
Its steady rhythm soothed me immediately.
For a few precious seconds, everything felt normal again.
Like the old days.
Like before secrets started living between us.
“I miss you,” I whispered.
Damian froze.
The reaction was immediate.
Pain flashed across his face.
Raw.
Unexpected.
And gone just as quickly.
My heart dropped.
“You see?”
His gaze lifted.
“See what?”
“That look.”
His expression softened.
“What look?”
“The one that makes me feel like you’re saying goodbye.”
For the first time that night, genuine fear entered his eyes.
And that terrified me.
Because Damian Russo wasn’t afraid of anything.
Yet somehow…
Tonight he looked terrified.
Before either of us could speak again, the balcony door suddenly slid open.
“Daddy!”
A small blur came racing toward us.
Damian barely had time to react before Noah launched himself into his legs.
I laughed despite everything.
Our six-year-old son wore dinosaur pajamas and messy bed hair.
Clearly, he had just woken up.
Damian immediately crouched down.
The tension vanished from his face.
Replaced by warmth.
Love.
The kind that only Noah could bring out of him.
“Why are you awake, buddy?”
Noah crossed his arms dramatically.
“I had a nightmare.”
“A nightmare?”
He nodded seriously.
“A giant octopus ate my spaceship.”
I burst out laughing.
Damian tried not to.
Failed miserably.
“A giant octopus?”
“The biggest one ever.”
Damian scooped him into his arms.
“Sounds terrifying.”
“It was.”
The seriousness on Noah’s face nearly killed me.
Damian kissed the top of his head.
And for a brief moment, I forgot everything.
The secrets.
The fear.
The strange late-night phone calls.
All of it.
Because this was my family.
My entire world.
And I would do anything to keep it together.
Then Damian’s phone vibrated.
The sound instantly shattered the moment.
I felt him go rigid.
Noah noticed too.
“Daddy?”
Damian forced a smile.
“It’s nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing.
I knew it.
Because the moment he looked at the screen, all the color drained from his face.
And suddenly…
The fear was back.
Stronger than before.
My stomach twisted.
Whoever was calling him had power over him.
The realization made me feel sick.
“Who’s that?” I asked quietly.
Damian immediately silenced the phone.
“No one important.”
I stared at him.
Then at the phone.
Then back at him.
The lie was obvious.
Painfully obvious.
And for the first time in our marriage, I realized something horrifying.
My husband was hiding something from me.
Something big.
Something dangerous.
The rest of the night passed in uneasy silence.
Eventually, Noah fell asleep between us while we watched cartoons in bed.
His small hand wrapped around Damian’s finger.
Refusing to let go.
I watched them both.
My two favorite people.
The two people I loved most in this world.
And suddenly tears burned behind my eyes.
Because I couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was coming.
“Damian.”
He looked up.
The room was dark except for the soft glow of the television.
“Yeah?”
I swallowed hard.
Then whispered the words that had been haunting me for weeks.
“Promise me you won’t leave.”
Everything stopped.
The television.
The laughter.
The comfort.
The air itself.
For a second, Damian simply stared at me.
As though the question had pierced straight through him.
Then his gaze shifted to Noah.
Sleeping peacefully between us.
Our son.
Our world.
His jaw tightened.
Pain flickered across his face.
And suddenly I knew.
Whatever secret he was carrying…
It was bigger than both of us.
“Promise me,” I whispered again.
His eyes returned to mine.
Shining with an emotion I couldn’t name.
Then he reached for my hand.
Pressed a kiss against my knuckles.
And finally said,
“I promise.”
I wanted to believe him.
God help me, I wanted to.
But something deep inside me whispered that promises were only as strong as the people making them.
And for the first time in seven years…
I wasn’t sure Damian believed his own.
Hours later, Elena and Noah slept peacefully.
But Damian remained awake.
Sitting alone in the darkness.
His phone illuminated his face.
A single message glowed on the screen.
Tomorrow.
8:00 AM.
If you don’t surrender, Luca goes down.
Damian closed his eyes.
His grip tightened around the phone.
And for the first time that night…
A tear slipped down his face.
The courthouse emptied slowly, but the tension lingered like a storm that refused to pass.Reporters crowded the front steps, shouting questions at every lawyer, officer, and witness who emerged. Camera flashes lit the gray afternoon, and microphones were thrust toward anyone willing to speak."Mr. Bell! Do you have a comment on the new evidence?""Do you believe Damian Russo deserves a new trial?""Is Bell Logistics involved in corruption?"Marcus Bell ignored every question. His expression remained composed as he buttoned his suit jacket and walked toward his waiting car.Only his driver noticed the fury burning behind his eyes.The moment the car door closed, Marcus loosened his tie and slammed his fist against the leather seat."They're getting too close."The driver remained silent.Marcus pulled out his phone."I want every person connected to Damian watched.""Michael.""Gabriel.""Sophia.""And especially Tayla."There was a brief pause."If one of them makes a mistake..."His
Morning arrived beneath a blanket of gray clouds.Tayla hadn't slept.She sat in the back seat of Michael's car, staring through the rain-speckled window as Stonegate Courthouse came into view. The building was already surrounded by reporters, television vans, and curious onlookers.Word had spread overnight.After eight years, Damian Russo's case was being reopened.No one knew why.But everyone wanted to witness it.Michael pulled into the underground parking garage."Ready?" he asked.Tayla looked down at the wedding ring she still wore on a thin chain around her neck. She had hidden it beneath her clothes for years, unable to wear it on her finger, yet unable to let it go.She wrapped her hand around it."I've been ready for eight years."---Inside the courthouse, security was tighter than usual.Uniformed officers stood at every entrance, checking identification before allowing anyone inside.Michael handed over his badge.Gabriel followed quietly behind them, keeping his head d
Damian had imagined this moment a thousand different ways.For eight years, he had replayed every possibility in his mind. He had imagined a forgotten witness walking into a courtroom. He had imagined someone finding the real murderer. He had even imagined Marcus Bell making one fatal mistake.But he had never imagined a young woman quietly sitting across from him in the prison visitation room, looking as frightened as he felt.She couldn't have been older than twenty-five.Her blonde hair was tied back neatly, and although she wore no makeup, her face carried the kind of beauty that had long been overshadowed by fear. She held a faded photograph in trembling hands, gripping it so tightly that the edges had begun to bend.When Damian sat down, she looked at him with tear-filled eyes."Mr. Russo?"He nodded cautiously."I'm Damian."She swallowed hard."My name is Sophia."The name immediately caught his attention.Sophia.The girl from the photograph found inside the safety deposit bo
Damian's POVThe words on the letter refused to leave my mind.Noah is not where Marcus thinks he is.I read the sentence again.And again.Then one more time.It didn't make sense.Marcus had kidnapped my son.Michael had confirmed it.Emily had watched them take him.So how could my father possibly know Noah wasn't where Marcus thought he was?I looked up from the letter."What does this mean?"Michael folded his arms, his face unreadable."It means your father has been planning for this day far longer than either of us imagined."I shook my head."Planning what?""Marcus always uses family as leverage."Damian's fingers tightened around the paper."He did it to your father.""He did it to Isabella.""And now he believes he's doing it to you.""But your father anticipated that years ago."My heartbeat quickened."So Noah..."Michael nodded slowly."...isn't with Marcus."For the first time in hours, Damian allowed himself to breathe.Not because Noah was safe.Because there was stil
Tayla's POVThe office fell silent after the detective delivered the news.Noah.Marcus wasn't coming after me anymore.He was coming after my son.For a moment, I couldn't hear anything except the pounding of my own heart. The room, the people around me, even Michael's voice faded into the background.Every instinct inside me screamed the same thing.Get to Noah.I shot to my feet so quickly that my chair crashed onto the floor."I'm going home."Michael immediately stepped in front of me."No."I glared at him."My son is there.""And Marcus knows that's exactly where you'll go.""I don't care.""I do."His voice remained calm, but his expression hardened."If Marcus wants Noah, he'll be watching your house.""I can't just leave him there!""You won't."Michael turned to one of his detectives."Call Emily."The detective immediately reached for his phone.A tense silence settled over the room as everyone waited.The phone rang once.Twice.Three times.Then—"Hello?"Emily answered.
Luca's POVThe first thing I noticed was the smell.Antiseptic.Fresh linen.And the faint scent of expensive cologne.Pain spread through my body the moment I tried to move. My ribs felt like they had been crushed beneath concrete, and a sharp sting shot through my shoulder where the knife had cut me during the fight.A machine beside my bed beeped steadily, reminding me that I was still alive.Unfortunately."You shouldn't move."The voice was calm.Almost friendly.I slowly turned my head.Marcus Bell sat comfortably in a leather chair beside my hospital bed. His legs were crossed, a half-peeled apple resting in one hand while the other lazily twirled a silver knife.He smiled as though we were having a casual family visit instead of meeting after he had ordered my execution."You've always been stubborn."I stared at him without answering.He cut another slice of the apple and took a bite."The doctors say you'll recover.""That's a shame," I muttered.Marcus chuckled."Still sarc







