LOGINAnyta's POV
âWhy didnât you pack up earlier?â Everettâs voice was full of anger. âThe flight leaves in five hours.â I rubbed at my temple. âI... I donât feel well. I probably have a fever.â His face turned dark. âStop pretending. Youâre just stalling because you donât want to leave.â âIâm not pretending.â I muttered. âPretence or not, you are leaving today!â he interjected. âIâll drive you to the airport myself, and youâre getting on that plane whether you want to or not.â His words drove the last bit of sleep from my eyes. He was driving me. Him, not a driver or an assistant. Bitter laughter bubbled in my chest, but I forced it down. Of course it wasnât because he cared, he just wanted to make sure I actually left. "Be downstairs in five minutes!" He snapped at me before slamming the door in my face. Dragging myself, I took a quick bath and stumbled to the half-open suitcase. My limbs felt heavy, but I forced myself to fold clothes, stack shoes and shove toiletries into the side pocket. Sweat dampened my forehead, and I sank onto the bed, panting. The sleep I'd had earlier hadnât helped at all. Grabbing the thermometer, I pressed it under my tongue. When it beeped, the numbers glared back at me. Yeah, I definitely had fever. âGreat.â I muttered to myself. I reached for the bottle of medicine on the nightstand, but my hand froze halfway. What if it wasnât safe? What if it hurt the baby? I dropped the pills back onto the table and sighed. I couldnât risk it. âGet it together, Anyta,â I whispered hoarsely and continued packing. Then the door banged open again. âWhy havenât you finished packing yet?â Everettâs voice barked from the entrance. I squeezed my eyes, too drained to answer. A moment later, his footsteps were pounding closer. He stopped in front of me, glaring down at me where I sat slumped on the floor. I pulled myself upright, swaying slightly. "I'm sorry, Everett." âWell, there's no time!â Everett snatched up a pile of clothes from the chair, crammed them into my suitcase without care and zipped it shut. âWait!â I protested. âShut up.â He yanked the suitcase handle, hauling it upright with a sharp snap. âWeâre leaving.â Before I could say anything else, his hand closed around my wrist and he dragged me toward the stairs. I barely had the strength to pull back. ******** By the time we reached the airport, I couldn't even hold myself upright. The words I needed to tell Everett: "Iâm pregnant" never made it past my lips. I stared at his profile in the car. What would he do if he knew? Demand I get rid of it? Probably. No, Iâd never let him know. This baby deserved more than his rejection. The car slowed in front of the departure gate and Everett didnât bother looking at me. âGet out." He ordered flatly. âYouâre not⊠coming in?â âI donât have time for this.â He grunted. âGet out, Anyta.â "Right." I reached for the door handle with shaky fingers, dragging my suitcase onto the curb. Everett's assistant who followed us also got down from the car. By the time I shut the door, Everett was already leaning back. The window slid down just long enough for him to add, âDonât contact me again.â Then it rolled back up. The car peeled away, leaving me standing there like discarded luggage. Everettâs assistant grabbed my suitcase handle. âMrs. Ashbourne, Iâll take you to the security check. Madame Ashbourne wanted me to tell you sheâll arrange money in your account, enough to survive until you find your footing in Italy. She hopes youâll call once you arrive.â I managed a weak smile. âTell her I will.â Two months later.... âCan you hurry it up?â I leaned against the wall, waiting while my roommate chatted endlessly on the phone. The moment she hung up, I took a deep breath. âListen⊠I need help with rent again.â Rosa my Italian roommate gave me an angry look. âAgain? I already covered you once, Anyta. Iâm not your sponsor.â âIâll pay you back, please." âForget it.â She folded her arms. âIf you canât afford rent, you shouldnât even be in dance school. Honestly, how are you paying tuition? Stolen money?â Her eyes were full of suspicion. I gasped. âWhat? No!â She rolled her eyes and walked out of the room, leaving me standing there humiliated. I sank onto my narrow bed, pulling out my phone. No bank transfer again. My account was still frozen. For weeks, Iâd scraped by on part-time jobs, selling whatever I could bear to part with. But it wasnât enough. If things didnât change, Iâd have to quit school and that thought alone made my chest cave in. I scrolled through my contacts, calling, texting and trying every number I thought might help. Nothing. No reply. Not even from Grandma Jo. My hand drifted to my stomach. The small bump was beginning to show. My baby deserved better than this, and I couldnât just give up. Which left me with one last option. I dialed Everettâs number with trembling hands. The phone rang and rang, then clicked. âHello?â The voice wasnât his, it was Sienaâs. âSiena?â I whispered. âYes. Everett is busy. You can tell me what you need.â "Siena, this is Anyta." I hesitated. âI⊠I just⊠could you tell him I need some money? Please? Just enough to keep up with my classes.â "Oh, it's you!" Her voice changed from polite to pompous. âOf course. Iâll make sure Everett knows.â âThank you,â I whispered. Against all logic, I wanted to believe her. Everett was rich and careless with money. Surely he wouldnât mind. But a few days later, nothing came. No call, no transfer and no reply. The landlord showed up instead and kicked me out of the apartment. And just like that, I was standing on the curb again, this time with nothing but my suitcase and a pregnancy I swore Iâd protect.CLAYâS POVI took one quick look at Jodie, and it confirmed my fear. She handed me the thumb drive with trembling hand and I excused myself without another word. Anyta gave me a quick look of concern but she didnât stop me as I walked out. I was grateful for that small gesture, because I needed to do this alone. I slipped into her small study at the back of the house, closed the door and sat down at the desk. The laptop screen glowed in the dark room. My hands felt heavy as I plugged the drive in.The files loaded one after the other. At first it was what I expectedâbank records, emails, timestamps all tied Victor directly to the leaks and the press play. These were top solid stuffs, and I felt grateful to Jodie.I saw a black folder, sitting on its own. Curiosity got the best of me, and I tapped on it. The intials âM.Gâ stared back at me, as I did a double take.M.G. My mother. Maria Grayson. I huffed in disbelief as I contemplated if I wanted to know what was in the file.I finally
ANYTAâS POVClay stepped back into the hallway, after I switched off Teddyâs bulbs. âPhilip says Jodie has something she needs to deliver personally. She doesnât trust sending it any other way. Would you be comfortable with us using your dining room to work through this tonight?âI didnât hesitate at all. âYes. Whatever you need at all. Letâs do it.âClay nodded gratefully, already pulling out his phone. He made the calls quickly, first to his legal team, then Philip and Jodie. Within thirty minutes my quiet dining room turned into a war room. Their laptops were opened on the long table. The papers spread out, and I silently prayed that no coffee tipped off and spilled over them. I moved silently between them, refilling the cups and clearing space, turning my home into the center of a battle.I kept looking at Jodie, not fully trusting her, but not saying any of it to Clay. I quietly carried out my duties, moving between the kitchen and the dining. I didnât expect them to be that nois
CLAYâS POVI stood in the hallway, my phone pressed to my ear, the soft glow from Teddyâs nightlight spilling out behind me. Philipâs voice was clipped and urgent on the other end.âBoss, itâs bad. Victor went straight to the major network this time. Heâs sitting down for a full interview first thing in the morning, and heâs hell bent on dropping everything about Owen Grayson. Heâs got financial data from that accountant we thought we had locked down. Heâs claiming that youâve been running a decades-long fraudulent shadow operation through Grey. Itâs a scorched-earth play, but heâs painting you as the villain who inherited your daddyâs dirty empire and made it worse.âI pinched the bridge of my nose, leaning against the wall. âHow much time do we have left?ââUntil morning at least. Theyâre promoting it heavily. If we donât respond before it airs, the story lands and everything weâve built scatters. Heâs timed it perfectly.â He said with a huff.âPrepare the counter-narrative,â I said
CLAYâS POVWe went upstairs together without saying much. Teddyâs nightlight cast a soft blue glow across the room. The little boy was sitting up in his bed, rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking up in every direction. Anyta moved first, sitting on the edge of the mattress and pulling him gently into her arms.âHey, baby,â she whispered. âBad dream?âTeddy nodded against her shoulder. âThere was a monster at the gate.â He said, pointing at a spot in the wall.I stayed by the door for a second watching them both, then walked over and sat on the other side of the small bed. The frame creaked a little under my weight. Anyta tucked the blanket around Teddyâs legs while I adjusted the pillow behind him.âYouâre safe, little man,â I told him quietly. âNo monsters get past us. I promise.âTeddy looked at me with those big trusting eyes. Without a word, he reached out and grabbed my hand with both of his small warm fingers. He held on tight, before he sighed and closed his eyes. Within seconds
CLAYâS POVI walked in and closed the door behind me with a soft click that echoed in the quiet house. The city hummed low outside the windows, a distant backdrop of lights and life that felt miles away. Anyta stood in the hallway, waiting in the glow of the single lamp in the living room corner. I knew Teddy was upstairs probably with Alice.She didnât mention the video even if I knew that it hurt her. What mattered now was the truth weâd been circling for far too long.âCome sit,â I said gently and made space for her.We settled on the living room floor, our backs against the couch. I rubbed my palms over my jeans, gathering courage.âI need to say this the right way,â I began, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest.Anyta looked at me, her soft eyes patient and searching in the dim light.âWhat Iâm about to say didnât start recently,â I told her. âIt was years ago, during high school, down back to when you were still married to Everett. I hated myself for feeling it then,
ANYTAâS POVI stayed at the cafĂ© table longer than I should have, and I kept staring at the video on my phone. It was clearly the security footage from outside my house.I tried not to read, but my curiosity got the best of me. I opened my socials, and the comments were already vicious.âGold digger.ââBad mother.ââUsing her son for money while sleeping with some thug.âI felt sick in my stomach, and bile rose up to my mouth. I couldnât break down in a public cafe. No!My phone started ringing immediately, Lauraâs name flashed on the screen.I answered. âLaura.ââAnyta, Iâve seen the video,â she said, already in full crisis mode. âItâs spreading very fast. Iâm pulling together a statement already. We need to get ahead of this. Are you home?ââNo, Iâm at a public cafĂ©,â I replied, voice shaky. âPeople are staring at me.ââStay calm and donât omment or agree on anything. Iâm drafting something neutral, and Iâm solely on focusing on privacy and false narratives. Send me any details you
EVERETT'S POVI was already halfway out the door when she stepped into my path.âHonestly, mother, this is beginning to look like a pattern and I don't appreciate it.âIt was like she had a talent for bad timing, always appearing at the precise moment my patience was thinnest, my nerves stretched t
EVERETT'S POVâ... we'll need graphs and maybe projections to show the profit margins.ââHmm,â I hummed, barely registering what the other man was saying.âSo what do you think about this?âI heard Stanley push a file towards me across the table.Staring down at the blue file made my head hurt. I d
EVERETTâS POVâBloody hellâŠâI tossed my phone onto the cherrywood desk, and dragged a hand down my face.FrustrationâŠit seeped through my pores, tightening my core.My office had always served as a comfort spot in the company, but right now, even the plush decor and the coolness from the air condi
AnytaThe first time I saw my face on the cover of a magazine, I thought it was just another society gossip piece. I had become used to murmurs and stares since I left the Ashbourne estate all those years ago. But when I opened the paper that morning, my stomach dropped.The headline read out to me







