LOGINSavannah woke early. Her body was tired, but her mind refused to rest.
The plane ticket still lay hidden under her pillow. She could not throw it away. She could not look at it without crying.
She touched her stomach again. Her baby. Her only reason to breathe now.
Nathaniel had already left the house, as always. No words, no glance, no care.
The silence in the mansion was louder than any scream.
Savannah forced herself to dress. She needed air. She needed to see something other than walls that reminded her of his hate.
So she walked out and went to the city. She did not even know why she chose to go near his company building. Maybe her heart was still foolish. Maybe she still hoped he would look at her once, not with hate, but with something human.
When she reached the tall glass tower that carried his name, she froze.
Through the clear doors she saw him. Nathaniel.
But he was not alone.
A woman with long legs and red lips stood beside him, clinging to his arm like she belonged there. Cassandra. His mistress. She wore a tight red dress that caught every eye, her smile sharp and proud.
Savannah’s chest tightened. She wanted to turn and run, but her feet would not move. Her heart cracked as she watched Cassandra lean close to him, whispering in his ear, her eyes shining with victory.
People passed by, some looking at Savannah, some at Nathaniel and Cassandra. The gossip was already in the air.
“Isn’t that the wife?” someone whispered.
“She looks so weak.”
“No wonder he chose another.”
Savannah’s cheeks burned. Her eyes stung. But she stood there, frozen, staring at the man who once stood before the altar with her, now standing so easily with another woman in public.
Then she heard Cassandra’s voice, loud enough to cut through the glass as the doors slid open.
“Nathaniel, why do you still let her stay in your house?” Cassandra said, her voice full of poison sugar. “She is nothing. If she refuses to leave, drag her out. Throw her out with her things. I will move in and take care of you the way a real woman should.”
Savannah’s breath caught. Her chest felt like it was being ripped open.
Nathaniel’s face was cold as always. His deep voice answered, flat and sharp, “Don’t worry. She won’t last much longer.”
Savannah staggered back, her eyes wide. The words hit harder than any slap. He was planning to throw her out. He had already chosen Cassandra. He was ready to erase her completely.
She pressed her hand to her belly again, tears flooding her eyes. Her baby. Their baby. Did he really mean to throw them both away as if they were nothing?
Cassandra laughed softly, holding his arm tighter. “Good. You deserve better than a weak little mouse. I’ll give you everything she couldn’t.”
Savannah could not listen anymore. Her legs finally moved, carrying her away from the building. Her tears blurred the street lights as she walked, her body trembling.
She found herself in a small park nearby. She sat on a bench, her body shaking, her mind spinning.
She whispered to herself, “He really wants me gone… He really never loved me.”
Her hand pressed harder on her stomach, as if she could shield the child from the cruel world waiting outside. “But I will not let him take you from me. I will not let them win.”
For the first time, her heart burned not just with pain but with a spark of fire. If Nathaniel and Cassandra wanted her gone, if they thought she was weak, she would show them she was not.
But still, the fear clung to her. Where would she go? How would she raise a child alone?
Her phone buzzed. It was a message from Nathaniel.
*Be ready. We need to talk tonight.*
Her chest tightened. What did he mean? Was he going to force her out now?
Her tears returned. She felt trapped, like a bird in a cage that was about to be thrown out into a storm.
That night, she sat in the living room, waiting. The mansion was dark, only the sound of rain against the windows.
When the front door opened, Nathaniel stepped in, tall, cold, untouchable. He looked at her once, his face unreadable.
“Savannah,” he said slowly, “we can’t keep going like this.”
Her lips trembled. “You want me to leave.”
His eyes were sharp. “You already know the answer.”
Her heart raced. She stood, her body shaking but her eyes wet with fire. “And what about the child inside me? Will you throw us both out?”
The silence that followed was heavy, dangerous.
Nathaniel’s eyes darkened. He stepped closer, his voice low and cold.
“Don’t test me, Savannah. You know I never wanted you. Don’t make me prove how far I can go.”
Her breath caught. Her tears fell.
But deep inside, a voice whispered back at her: *Fight. For yourself. For your baby.*
And as his cold eyes burned into hers, Savannah knew this was the moment.
The choice was close. The pain was close.
And the war for her child had just begun.
The house was calm, the kind of quiet that only came after a long day. Nathaniel had just finished showering when he walked into the bedroom and found Cassandra standing by the mirror, brushing her long hair slowly. Her red gown from dinner was gone, replaced by a soft silk night robe that flowed down her skin like water. He paused, watching her reflection. For a second, it reminded him of old times — before everything became complicated, before the lies and the distance. Cassandra turned and caught him staring. She smiled softly. “What?” Nathaniel smiled back. “You’re beautiful, Cass. I almost forgot how much.” She laughed lightly, setting the brush down. “You forgot? That’s rude.” He walked closer, his voice low. “Then maybe I should remind myself.” She looked up at him, her eyes calm but hiding something deeper. He reached out, gently touching her face. The warmth of his hand against her skin made her heart beat faster, though she didn’t know if it was love or guilt
The sun was already setting when Nathaniel walked into the living room, car keys in hand. Cassandra was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone, pretending to be busy. But deep inside, she had been waiting for him to say something. Nathaniel smiled a little. “Get dressed,” he said softly. She looked up, pretending to be surprised. “Where are we going?” He shrugged. “Out. It’s been long since we went anywhere together. You’ve been staying home too much lately. Let’s go have some fun, Cass.” For a second, she just stared at him. Part of her wanted to say no, but another part — the one that loved attention and fine things — pushed her to agree. She smiled, standing up quickly. “Alright then, give me a few minutes.” She ran upstairs to change into a short red gown and light makeup. When she came down, Nathaniel’s eyes widened a little. She still knew how to get his attention. “You look beautiful,” he said. “Thanks,” she replied with a smile, holding his arm. They
Cassandra sat in her car outside a small cafe. Her hands shook. The notebook lay on the passenger seat, pages full of names and plans. She reread the last line she had written and felt a cold on her skin. Power was close. So close it tasted like metal in her mouth.She pushed the car door open and walked in. Vanessa was already inside, sipping coffee, face calm. Cassandra slid into the seat across and stared at Vanessa for a long breath. Her face was hard now. No sweet smile. Only hunger.“Vanessa,” she said, voice low. “We need to step up the plan. Quiet is slow. I want it done faster.”Vanessa looked at her quietly. “Cass, slow is safe. We agreed small noise first. You said you wanted no police, no blood. What changed?”Cassandra’s eyes flashed. “Everything changed,” she hissed. “They laugh. He holds her. He walks like he owns the world. I can’t watch that. I can’t live like that. I want him gone, Vanessa. I want everything gone.”Vanessa’s hand tightened around her cup. “Gone
Cassandra sat at her desk and stared at the company logo on the wall. The room was quiet. Morning light fell across her fingers. Her coffee went cold. She felt hollow and angry at the same time.How do you take a company from a man who built it with his hands? she asked herself. All the plans in her head felt small when she looked at the real thing — the boardroom, the lawyers, the names on paper. Power lived there. Not in pretty dresses or sweet words.She stood and walked to the window. Cars moved below like small beetles. People were living their normal lives. She tasted the truth: she had no clear map. She had to make one.She took a pen and a new notebook. The page was white and scared. Slowly she wrote the first word: *Force*. The word looked loud on the paper.Then she wrote questions, simple and hard.Who owns the shares?Who can vote with me?What legal moves break the trust?Where is the paper trail?Who will help me quietly?She tapped the pen and closed her eyes. Me
Cassandra woke up early that morning, the sun barely touching her face through the white curtains. She sat up slowly, her mind already full of plans. She had cried enough, and now, she told herself, it was time to act. She walked to the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her eyes looked tired, but she smiled anyway — a fake one, the kind that could fool anyone. “From today,” she whispered to herself, “no more tears. No more weakness. Nathaniel will never see me as a fool again.” She stood up, brushed her hair neatly, and wore a simple silk robe. When she stepped out of the room, the maids greeted her carefully, their eyes full of fear. They had all seen how she slapped Rose last time for asking an innocent question. “Good morning, ma’am,” one of them said softly. Cassandra smiled sweetly, to everyone’s surprise. “Good morning, girls. I hope you all slept well.” They nodded quickly, whispering to one another as she walked away. Inside the dining room, the smell of breakfa
The night was quiet, but Mr. Ben could not sleep. He turned from one side of the bed to the other, sweating even though the fan was on. His wife, Mama Grace, lay beside him, weak and coughing softly. The sound broke his heart each time. He sat up and rubbed his head. Clara’s voice kept ringing in his mind — *“You’ll just be my eyes and ears.”* He looked at the money on the table — so much of it, wrapped neatly in bands. He had never held that much in his entire life. It could pay his rent, buy his wife’s drugs, and even feed them for months. But deep down, he knew the money was dirty. Mama Grace turned to him slowly. “Ben… why are you not sleeping?” she asked weakly. He sighed and forced a smile. “Nothing, my dear. Just thinking.” She coughed again. “You’re thinking too much. I know that face. Something is wrong.” Ben didn’t answer right away. He reached for a glass of water and handed it to her. “Drink, my dear. Don’t worry about me.” But she was not fooled. “Ben,







