Mag-log inSALMA Salma stood in front of the long mirror in her dressing room and looked at herself in a way she had not allowed herself to for weeks. Morning light spilled through the windows, catching the fuller line of her breasts beneath her camisole and the gentle, unmistakable curve of her stomach. She was three months pregnant now. Her body had softened. There was healthy weight in her hips, and a roundness to her face that had not been there before. She turned slightly, pressing a palm against the small of her back where a familiar ache had begun to settle. From this angle, the small bump was noticeable. She stared at her reflection for a long moment. Then she smiled. She dressed slowly, choosing a blouse that no longer hid everything and a pair of soft trousers. When she stepped into the corridor, the house was already awake. By the time she reached the kitchen, Shane was already there, a tablet in one hand and a phone pressed to his ear. “The shipment doesn't leave until the sec
ARIA POVAria had left the medical wing on a Friday with a nurse walking half a step behind her. After a week of waking up and constant physical therapy, her legs were still a little wobbly, and every few steps she had to pause and let the dizziness settle. The nurse never rushed her.She had not realized how large the estate truly was until she was moving through it on her own feet, days after she had been moved to another wing on the ground floor. She passed the grand parlour first. It had high ceilings, heavy furniture that looked as though it had not been rearranged in years, and a fireplace that held no ashes. And beyond it was the common family area, which opened into the kitchen.The kitchen was the first place that felt properly alive. The room was enormous—marble counters, wide windows, and enough space to feed a small army without ever feeling crowded. Aria stopped at the doorway and watched silently.Devon stood at the island with two laptops open and a phone pressed betwee
ARIA POVAria woke to the sound of her own breathing. For several seconds she lay still, staring at the white ceiling while her lungs pulled air in, released it, and pulled in another breath without help.The rhythm was almost too ordinary to notice, yet it was the first thing she became conscious of. She had forgotten how strange breathing could feel when it was no longer automatic. Her chest ached with every deeper breath. Her throat felt scraped raw. A persistent dryness sat beneath her tongue and made swallowing uncomfortable. And her limbs seemed to belong to someone else—heavy and weak beneath the sheets.But she was breathing. On her own.She slowly turned her head. A nurse adjusted something on the monitor beside her bed. Another stood near the foot, checking the chart. Then memory returned. Not all of it. Fragments. Pain. White lights. Voices. Hands. The sensation of drowning and then being pulled back.And Salma.Two days ago, she had woken to an empty room, confused about w
A week of bed rest had changed Salma in ways she hadn't expected. There had been no miraculous recovery, no sudden return of the woman who once moved through the Wellington estate. But she had finally stopped pretending that she could carry everything alone.Dr. Aris had been merciless after the bleeding scare. For a week, Salma wasn't allowed to do anything more strenuous than walk to the bathroom and back. Her work came to her instead. She wasn't allowed to go anywhere near Aria's room. She hated it, but Sammy always came to her with the same news about how Aria was doing. Nothing had changed, but knowing calmed her down enough to remain on her bed.Salma hated the arrangement at first. Then, slowly, she began to understand why everyone had fought so hard to make it happen.Her laptop sat across her thighs that afternoon while she leaned against a mountain of pillows, a light blanket covering her legs.Three documents were open on the screen. The fourth had already been signed.The h
That evening, the three men met in the underground office.“He was approached about six months ago,” Devon said. “They offered him enough money to disappear and gave him one instruction, which is to use his access to Arthur's old network.”Adam frowned. “Did he know who hired him?”“No. No names, no direct contact. Everything came through intermediaries.” Devon said.“What exactly were they looking for?” Shane asked.“Old authorizations, dormant routes, warehouse records, security protocols. Anything that showed them how Arthur built and organized the system.”Adam leaned back. “So they weren't trying to steal from the company?"Devon shook his head. “They were studying it.”Shane scoffed. “And the nine-year-old authorization?”“He admitted they specifically wanted access to Arthur's older records. That's how they got the authorization used to move the shipment,” Devon said.Adam rubbed his jaw. “Then someone has been giving them information.”“Or someone inside Wellington gave them a
The first sign that something had changed in the Wellington empire came from the underground. It came from a shipment that never reached the port.Devon stood in the middle of the operations room with a manifest open on the central screen, his expression unreadable as three separate teams tried to determine where the cargo had disappeared.The shipment had been cleared through one of Wellington's oldest routes. The authorization was legitimate. The receiving company was legitimate. The warehouse was legitimate. Even the driver had passed every security check. Yet the shipment had vanished between the last checkpoint and the private loading facility.Devon looked at the map again. "Show me the vehicle."A technician pulled up the tracking feed. The truck appeared on the screen, moving along the designated route. Then, twelve minutes later, the signal disappeared.Devon's eyes narrowed. "Where did it go?""We're still tracing it.""You've been tracing it for forty minutes."The technici







