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Chapter 25 - Makayla
Last Updated:
2025-04-08 18:25:52
BryantEverything is ready. Makayla has planned for this. And she has Pockets to protect her. It's time to face Stacey.
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Troubled Heart Chapter 26 - Lilac
I hadn't slam the door to my bedroom, though I wanted to. I closed it with slow, deliberate finality—the soft click more satisfying than any burst of anger could’ve been. I hadn't wanted another fight. Not tonight. I needed space. Quiet. And a plan. The leather-bound notebook was clutched tight in my hand, the ridged corner pressing into my palm like a reminder that this wasn’t a dream. It was real. Every word. Every scribbled name. Every threat my father had tried to keep tucked away on a dusty shelf like time would bury it for him. I sank onto my bed, still wrapped in the same oversized sweater I’d changed into that morning. The room hadn’t changed since I was nineteen. The same faded concert posters that were curling at the edges. The same worn quilt on the twin bed. The same air that smelled of cedar, old paper, and forgotten ambition. But I wasn’t the same. Not anymore. I set the notebook down and reached under my bed, tugging out the fireproof lockbox where I kept my backup so
Last Updated : 2025-04-09Troubled Heart Chapter 27 - Makayla
The Aurora Ridge shimmered like a mountain jewel, its grandeur built on arrogance and wealth. The snow sparkled on the archway as I parked the rental, the engine quieting with a sigh, bracing for what was to come. The morning sky was pale, but everything around gleamed like it had never faced a storm. I turned off the engine, my breath fogging in the still air. Pockets stirred in his seat. I checked my phone for the time and for any message from Reese. “Going in,” I had texted her an hour ago. No reply necessary. She understood. I lingered a moment longer, hands gripping the steering wheel. My reflection was calm and cold, the type that cuts deep—no makeup except dark eyeliner, hair up, dressed in black—a frostbite of resolve. “You ready?” I murmured, glancing at Pockets. He wagged his tail once. Just once. Enough to tell me he knew something serious was happening but that he was still with me. Still mine. I opened the door. The cold bit through my clothes, but I barely felt it a
Last Updated : 2025-04-10Troubled Heart Chapter 28 - Pockets
I knew something was wrong when we left that shiny, cold building. At least we left behind that horrid human. Stacey was never right for my human. I’m glad she finally did something about it. Makayla didn’t say a word. Not one. She just opened the car door like it weighed a hundred pounds and slid into the driver’s seat with that quiet sort of stiffness that only meant one thing: she was hurting. She smelled different now. Not like the warm cinnamon and snow she usually did. No. Now, she smelled like firewood that burned too long. Bitter. Sharp. Grief and something else I didn’t like. It clung to her skin even when she rolled down the windows and let the mountain air in. Like she was trying to breathe something that didn’t hurt. I jumped into the seat beside her, turned in a tight circle, and then sat with my back pressed against her thigh. She didn’t look at me or scratch behind my ears like she normally did when we got in the car. She just sat there with her hands on the wheel, kn
Last Updated : 2025-04-11Troubled Heart Chapter 29 - Makayla
I hadn’t slept. Not really. Not since I walked out of that penthouse and slammed the door on the most exquisitely curated betrayal money could buy. I’d stripped off my coat, kicked off my boots, fed Pockets his kibble, and then just… sat. For hours. My laptop glowed on the desk across from me. I hadn’t touched it. Until now. A ping split the silence like a shot across a battlefield. [URGENT: Incoming - Countermeasure Filed] The subject line punched the breath out of my lungs. I lunged for the laptop. The message was from Reese. Short. Clinical. Deadly. 'Stacey filed in three jurisdictions—Colorado, DC, and New York. Civil defamation, data tampering, unauthorized surveillance. She’s moving fast. The press release paints you as an unbalanced hacker ex with a grudge. They’re calling you emotionally volatile. Obsessive. Possibly dangerous. Her lawyers are leaking it already. We’re prepping the response, but Mak… we need something decisive. She’s playing dirty. You need to go nuclea
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The snow fell softly outside my window, a hush settling over the house. My backpack sat half-zipped on the floor, with my notebook, charger, scarf, and a change of clothes ready to go. I hadn’t left yet, but one question lingered in my mind. I reopened my laptop and clicked into the ZIP folders from my old contacts—files I hadn’t fully examined before calling my mother. I glanced past the registration papers for Red Cedar Developments and paused at a zoning map labeled “Historical Easement: Review Pending.” The name next to the parcel ID stopped me cold. Four Pines Reserve. The air left my lungs in one breathless rush. I clicked furiously, pulling up cross-referenced county records and scanning contracts. Land titles. Anonymous ownership transfers. Quiet campaign donations in exchange for silence. It was all there—buried just enough to stay overlooked unless you knew where to dig. But I knew Four Pines. It wasn’t just a forest. It was home. The place where my father had taken me
Last Updated : 2025-04-14Troubled Heart Chapter 31 -Makayla
The morning light crept through the hotel curtains in fractured gold, spilling across the bed in quiet stripes. The room smelled faintly of snow, lavender soap, and the lingering embers of what we’d done last night. Lilac lay beside me, tangled in the sheets, her dark curls spread across the pillow like a crown. Her breathing was slow, steady—a peaceful rhythm. One hand rested over Pockets’ back, his tiny body curled against her side like a living shield. He stirred slightly as I slid out of bed, but didn’t move. Pockets would never sleep in the bed when Stacey was in it. It shows I should’ve trusted my dog’s opinion all along. He knew the right sister from the wrong. He didn’t take any convincing to trust Lilac like I did. He just instinctively knew she was the good sister and the one I should be with. I pulled on my hoodie and padded barefoot across the room, careful not to wake either of them. The glow from my laptop was a harsh contrast to the softness behind me. I blinked agai
Last Updated : 2025-04-15Troubled Heart Chapter 32 - Lilac
I hadn’t gone back to sleep when Makayla left. I’d sat there worried about her while Pockets snoozed. Every time I heard someone in the hallway, I sat up, heart in my throat, as I watched the door, waiting for when it would be her. Of course, footsteps always carried past the door. Finally, they stopped at her door, and I heard the lock disengage. I was sitting cross-legged on the bed in her oversized hoodie, the sleeves swallowing my hands. This was not a women’s hoodie. I design clothes, and I know the difference between something intended for a woman and something designed for a man. This was a man’s hoodie. Maybe Makayla just liked it enough to buy it from the men’s side of a store since I at least knew it didn’t belong to an ex-boyfriend. The fabric still smelled like her skin—warm and electric, edged with cedar and storm—and I’d clung to it like a lifeline while she was gone. Pockets stirred from his spot beside me, ears twitching, tail giving one hopeful thump as the door open
Last Updated : 2025-04-16Troubled Heart Chapter 33 - Makayla
The screen went dark with a final, satisfying click. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding—long, slow, and shaky. The kind of breath that doesn’t just leave your lungs but peels back something deeper. The war room we’d built from this hotel desk was finally silent. The strategy had been laid, the files synced, and the timeline mapped. There were no more questions. Just the storm we were about to unleash. But for once, I didn’t want to be in front of a screen. “C’mon,” I murmured, gently nudging Lilac where she sat beside me, cross-legged and curled in my hoodie. “We need a reset.” She blinked up at me. “You mean sleep?” I shook my head. “Air. Fresh, cold, not-cyber-coded air.” Lilac grinned softly and stood, grabbing the blanket from the foot of the bed. “Alright, hacker girl. Let’s go breathe.” We bundled up—she wore my hoodie, I threw on my coat, and Pockets gave a thrilled little huff when I clipped on his leash. He bounded to the door like we were about to take
Last Updated : 2025-04-17
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Troubled Heart Epilogue - Pockets
It started with boxes. So many boxes. And tape. And that loud, evil screeching sound the tape makes when Makayla yanks it across a box. I hated it. I barked at it. She didn’t stop.Lilac kept saying things like “fresh start,” “more space,” and “better for the baby.” What baby? I’m the baby! Meanwhile, Makayla grumbled about how the penthouse echo messed with her audio setup. I didn’t understand any of it. The apartment in the sky was our home. My home. The only one I’d ever known in all my two glorious years of life.I had a routine here—a rhythm. I knew which floorboards creaked, which elevator made a weird noise, and which neighbors gave me treats. I also knew exactly where the sun hit the rug every morning, so I could stretch dramatically and ensure everyone noticed.And Central Park? It was right there. Just a few blocks away. Prime walking territory. Squirrel central. I’d marked every important tree, bush, and trash can between our building and there. That was my kingdom. My pee
Troubled Heart Epilogue - Lilac
Spring in New York didn’t smell like the mountains, but it felt just as sacred that morning.The rooftop air was soft and full of life—honeyed light filtering through string and flowering vines overhead. Laughter drifted from somewhere behind me, punctuated by the unmistakable sound of a corgi barking in protest—probably Pockets voicing his opinion about something.My hands trembled, but not from nerves. Not really. It was unfiltered, unapologetic wonder at how far we’d come. From a firelit cabin in the Rockies to this rooftop, where the skyline bowed slightly to make space for love.I stood in front of a full-length mirror in a quiet corner of the venue, taking in the dress I had designed and stitched with my hands—ivory silk, scattered with embroidered lavender and wildflowers, delicate vines curling up the hem like memory. A dress meant to root me here, in this moment, in this forever.I stood just inside the floral archway leading to the aisle, my hand resting on my father’s. He l
Troubled Heart Epilogue - Makayla
There’s chaos, and then there’s Frost-family-holiday chaos. And honestly? I loved every second of it.Eduardo Alfonso Nikolaidis, all eleven pounds of one-and-a-half-month-old chubby cheeked cuteness, had already stolen every heart in the room. Clay cradled his son with more care than I think he's ever held anything, while Xenia kept brushing her fingers through his dark curls like she couldn’t believe he was real. Between her and Clay, their son would grow up with the wildest stories, the best genetics, and more love than he’d know what to do with.Reese and Don were wrangling their almost-three-year-old twins—Nik and Leo—who were tag-teaming a mission to dismantle the Frost Christmas tree ornament by ornament. The triplets were trying, and failing, to keep a straight face while scolding their twins, the mischievous duo Saki and Akio, who kept sticking bows on everyone’s backs like walking presents. Hikari was reading peacefully in the corner, while little Ryū, at four, was already a
Troubled Heart Chapter 42 - Lilac
The apartment smelled like cardboard and shipping tape a week after moving in. Boxes were stacked in the hallway, the dining room, and beside the front door, and one particularly stubborn box served as a makeshift coffee table. Fabric bolts leaned like sleepy giants against the wall in my studio space, and my sketchbooks were scattered across the couch. And somehow, it still felt like home. Pockets trotted past me with a sock he stole— Makayla’s sock, of course — and disappeared upstairs like he was on a top-secret mission. I smiled and let him go. We had all fallen into our roles around there. He was the guardian of snack time and chaos. I was the hurricane in leggings and paint-splattered sweatshirts. And Makayla was the gravity holding the whole thing together. She was in the kitchen, half-dressed in one of her favorite hoodies — her rainbow curls tied up in a bun as she typed one-handed on her laptop and drank coffee with the other. I could tell by the set of her jaw she was a
Troubled Heart Chapter 41 - Makayla
By the time we pulled up in front of the building on East 83rd, the city had shaken off winter like it never happened. Sure, it was still cold, it’s fucking January, after all, but it’s not like winter in Colorado. It was bright, loud, alive—everything Aspen wasn’t. My doorman greeted us before we even made it through the revolving doors, and I felt Lilac’s hand tighten in mine. She didn’t say anything, but I could read it in how her gaze swept upward, eyes tracing the limestone façade with equal parts awe and apprehension. It was a world away from the cabin, Colorado, and Four Pines. It was also home. Inside the elevator, I leaned into her shoulder and whispered, “Don’t let the marble floors fool you. I still eat instant noodles barefoot in the kitchen.” Lilac laughed softly, nerves unraveling just a little as the elevator ascended. I felt the shift when the doors opened to the penthouse floor. The air up here was still but not sterile. “Okay,” I said, typing in my keycode and s
Troubled Heart Chapter 40 - Lilac
The airplane’s hum enveloped me in a soft cocoon, quieter than I had anticipated. Down below, Colorado’s breathtaking landscape melted into an expanse of thick, downy clouds and snowy-ridged peaks whose white tops reflected what was left of light. My forehead was against the cold glass on the oval window, and I watched the familiar landscape drop away, with my breath tracing ephemeral clouds on frost-nipped glass. I didn’t cry. Nor did I feel the restless urge to flee or look back. This was not an escape; it was a bold beginning. Beside me, Makayla slumbered peacefully, arms crossed like a guard, a stray lock of hair spilling across her cheek in a soft curl. Pockets, our diminutive travel companion, was rolled tight between us in his cozy carrier, snoring with all the force of a small beast fighting off the silence of the plane. Across from us, Clay was already asleep, noise-canceling headphones askew and a half-full bag of pretzels clutched in his palm. I pulled my sketchbook out o
Troubled Heart Chapter 39 - Makayla
I didn’t cry when I booked the ticket, I sure the FUCK wasn’t driving back. I thought maybe I would that it might come with some cinematic swell of relief or catharsis. I felt relief, felt like I could breathe easy again. To breathe in a way I hadn’t since before the blizzard. Before the betrayal. Outside the hotel window, Aspen was no longer blanketed in threat. The snow had softened to slush at the curb. The streets weren’t hostile anymore. The mountains didn’t loom. Everything felt like an exhale. We were going home. I rolled the word around in my head again: home. Not D.C., with its sterile buildings and buried truths. Not the political chessboard I’d grown up on, where every move was either weapon or weakness. No. I meant New York to my penthouse in Manhattan near Central Park. Not perfect. Never soft. But honest. It had been the first place I carved out for myself—where I built something not wrapped in the Hopkins name or the Frost legacy. It was my pulse, my grit, my skyli
Troubled Heart Chapter 38 - Pockets
The humans smelled different this morning. Not scared. Not sharp with adrenaline like they’d been the last few days. There was still tension—always was, when Makayla paced or typed or made her voice extra serious—but now it hummed lower. Deeper. Like thunder far away. I stretched on the hotel bed, paws splayed, tail flicking once before curling tighter beside Lilac’s thigh. She was warm, still in Makayla’s hoodie, sipping coffee from the white mug. I don't understand why humans like that. It has such a bitter smell. Yet it makes them smile. Makayla stood by the television, remote in hand, eyes on the screen. I didn’t understand all the words, but I understood other things, like looks of anger and relief, words like justice, and I recognized handcuffs. I'm 3 months old. I probably shouldn't know what those are. It did confuse me to see them being used on the news. I had only seen them when I was little, okay I'm still little, and I still lived with my parents and their humans.
Troubled Heart Chapter 37 - Makayla
I should’ve been sleeping. Lilac was already curled up beneath the hotel blanket, one arm draped over Pockets like she’d always belonged there, like she was woven into the quiet of this room. The folder her father had given her—the deed to their cabin, to the land that started everything—rested on the nightstand beside the laptop, where the screen glowed faintly in the dark. But I couldn’t close it yet. Not until I was sure there wasn’t one more trap waiting to be sprung. A paranoid instinct had kept me alive in systems most people never even realized they were walking into. And that instinct now told me something didn’t add up. The financial patterns in Stacey’s shell companies were too clean. Too rehearsed. And nothing about Stacey Sherbourn was ever that tidy—unless she wanted it to be seen. So, I went digging. Again. I tunneled back into the encrypted backups I’d mirrored weeks ago—deep code packets stored from a corrupted cloud system linked to a Sherbourn asset overseas. Be
