Claire’s phone buzzed softly on the nightstand. The sound was faint, almost timid, but in the silence of her room it felt loud, insistent. She turned her head slowly, her body already heavy from the exhaustion that had clung to her all week. With effort, she reached for it, her fingers trembling as though they already knew what waited for her.Darren’s name lit up the screen.Her chest tightened instantly, a sharp ache cutting through her ribs. For a second, she froze, unable to breathe. The sight of his name alone was enough to stir everything she had been trying so hard to bury. She pressed a hand to her stomach as though steadying herself, as though the gesture could shield her from the truth pressing down on her. Her throat burned, and before she even opened the message, tears had begun to rise.The past week had been a blur. She had dragged herself to work, forcing a smile, but her body betrayed her. The exhaustion was unbearable; her energy slipped away no matter how much she tr
The city outside his window seemed too alive for the restlessness he felt. Midday light poured in unfiltered, turning the glass into a harsh, gleaming pane. Below, the streets bustled with rhythm and purpose: honking cars locked in argument, vendors calling out in hopeful tones, and the steady hum of footsteps rising and fading like a tide. Darren leaned his shoulder against the frame, one hand in his pocket, the other resting idly on the sill. It should have been an ordinary day, but nothing in him felt ordinary anymore.His reflection ghosted faintly back at him in the glass, layered over the brightness outside. He stared at that faint double image as though it were mocking him: Darren, the successful, the controlled, the man who always knew how to bend a situation into his favor. But for once, his own face did not look convincing.Celeste.Her image intruded uninvited, the memory of her from last night seated at the dining table. She had been different then, really different. Not t
The day had not fully broken through the haze of her thoughts when Celeste made her decision. Katie’s words lingered in her ears. It wasn’t merely the loyalty that struck her, it was the rare, unflinching devotion of someone who had chosen her, even beyond death.Seated at the dining table, the glass cup now warm beneath her fingers, Celeste lifted her eyes to Katie. The young woman’s posture was polite, restrained, but her eyes carried a weight that belied her calm. She had come here prepared to risk much by speaking the truth, and that kind of faith deserved something more.Celeste inhaled slowly, then placed the glass cup down with deliberate care.“Come with me,” she said.Katie blinked, uncertain, her brows knitting ever so slightly. “Celeste?”“Follow me.” Celeste rose gracefully, her chair sliding back across the marble floor. Without another word, she turned toward the sweeping staircase that climbed into the private wings of the mansion.Katie hesitated. Her visits here were
“Celeste.”Katie’s voice carried softly yet firmly across the dining hall, breaking the quiet hum of morning. She didn’t bother with titles, as though her first name was enough. Celine had once asked her to do that, a way to preserve some intimacy in the formal world of business.Celeste lifted her eyes from her untouched teacup. She forced a smile. “Katie. You’re here without warning.”The younger woman stepped forward, sliding gracefully into one of the high-backed chairs at the end of the glass dining table. Her gaze flickered briefly, first to Ònààrà, who leaned lazily against the archway, then back to Celeste. A stillness settled between the three women, heavy with unspoken things.Katie folded her hands in front of her, knuckles pale. She didn’t speak immediately. Instead, she drew a leather folder from her bag and placed it on the glass. The soft thud of paper against the polished surface rang louder than it should have.Celeste’s eyes dropped briefly to the file, then back to
The steam from her evening bath still clung faintly to her skin as Evelyn crossed the quiet room. Bare feet sank into the softness of the carpet, her damp hair tumbling loosely down her back, leaving tiny droplets that kissed the silk of her nightdress. She hummed as she moved, an absent-minded tune with no real name, the kind that seemed to float out of her without effort.The day had left her oddly light. A full day spent outside, a full day in her own consciousness. And Darren, her lips curved involuntarily at the thought, Darren had been there. The laughter, the way he had looked at her, the ease she hadn’t expected. She had told herself it was only an outing, nothing more, but her heart had betrayed her with every quickened beat.She slipped beneath the sheets, pulling the covers up to her shoulders. The bed welcomed her with a familiar comfort, but it felt different tonight warmer, softer, like it was wrapping her in something she had almost forgotten existed: happiness. Evelyn
The little garden café was tucked away from the city’s noise, its wrought-iron tables scattered beneath flowering jacaranda trees. Sunlight sifted through violet blossoms, spilling onto the stone path where Darren walked beside her. He had chosen the place deliberately, somewhere quiet, somewhere that promised discretion. Yet as they stepped inside, Evelyn could feel the stares. Even here, a few heads turned, whispers trailing after them.She held herself steady, straight-backed as Celeste, but her heart was thudding with a rhythm that belonged only to Evelyn. It had been weeks since she had lived a day in her own skin during daylight, unmasked, unmeasured. And though she was still hiding, pretending to be Celeste, something about the morning had refused to let the mask hold completely.Darren pulled out her chair. She murmured thanks, and when their eyes met briefly, she felt an unsettling current. He was looking at her differently today. Not the wary, strategic gaze of a man negotia