Mag-log inThe penthouse felt quieter than it had any right to be.Not peaceful. Not calm. Just heavy.Ivy stood near the tall windows, her arms wrapped around herself, staring out at the darkening sky. The city lights were beginning to flicker on one by one, distant and detached, like a world that continued moving no matter how much hers had fractured. Behind her, Richard sat on the edge of the sofa, shoulders slumped, his hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles had gone white.He had not moved in a long time.Richard sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together so tightly that the tendons stood out beneath his skin. The room around him felt too large, too quiet, as if the walls themselves were waiting for him to say something he did not yet have the strength to admit.Riley, who had been standing near the doorway, turned immediately. The sharpness in her posture softened the moment she saw him like that. She walked back toward him, slow and careful, as if sudden
The penthouse was quiet in a way Ivy was not used to.Not the heavy, tense silence of rooms where people waited to be hurt, but a softer stillness. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the living space, revealing the city far below, blurred by height and distance. Up here, the noise could not reach her. The chaos stayed somewhere else.Ivy stood just inside the doorway, fingers curled tightly around the strap of her bag. She had taken off her shoes without realizing it, her bare feet pressing into the cool marble floor as if grounding herself. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure they could hear it from the other room.She did not know how to do this.She did not know how to walk toward a man who shared her blood but not her memories. A man whose face she had seen countless times in the background of Riley’s life, smiling, present, protective. A man who had been everything she never had.Richard stood near the window, his back to her. His shoulders were rigid, hands clas
Ivy barely heard the rest of the café around her after Riley spoke.‘Our dad wants to meet you.’‘Our dad.’‘Her dad.’The words settled slowly, like dust after a collapse. Ivy’s shoulders stiffened, and her fingers curled into the fabric of her bag, knuckles whitening as if she needed something solid to anchor herself. Her gaze dropped to the table, to the faint ring of condensation left by Riley’s cup, to anything that was not the weight of that sentence.Riley noticed immediately.She shifted closer, not touching yet, just enough that Ivy could feel her presence. “You don’t have to answer right now,” Riley said gently. “I didn’t mean to corner you.”Ivy let out a shaky breath. Her chest felt tight, like the air had thickened. “I don’t think I can,” she said quietly. “I really don’t.”Riley nodded, as if she had expected that. “Tell me why.”Ivy swallowed. The answer felt tangled, messy, and frighteningly honest. “Because I don’t know how,” she admitted. “I don’t know how to walk in
The room was dark enough that faces blurred into silhouettes. Only the faint glow from a single desk lamp cut through the shadows, casting long, distorted shapes against the walls. Smoke lingered in the air, curling lazily upward, carrying the bitter scent of impatience and anticipation.One of them stood near the window, fingers drumming slowly against the glass. Each tap was deliberate, measured, as if counting down something only they understood. Outside, the city lights blinked indifferently, unaware of the quiet calculation unfolding above it.“So,” a voice said from the corner, low and satisfied, “it’s confirmed.”Another figure shifted, leaning back against the table. The wood creaked under their weight. “Confirmed,” they replied. “The children are legitimate. Bloodline intact.”A slow chuckle followed. It was soft, almost amused. “Heirs,” someone murmured, tasting the word. “That complicates things.”“No,” the one by the window corrected, finally turning around. The light caug
The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Shadows clung to the walls like they were afraid to leave. Ivy sat upright against the headboard, knees pulled close to her chest beneath the blanket, her fingers knotted together so tightly her knuckles ached. Her eyes were red, unfocused, staring at a point just past Asher’s shoulder.She already knew the truth about her mother now it was his turn to know some truth.That wound was still open, still bleeding quietly in the background of her mind.This was different.This was the secret she had carried in her body, in her bones, in her breath, for years.Asher sat on the edge of the bed, close but not touching. He had learned, painfully, when not to reach for her. His posture was rigid, shoulders squared, as if bracing for impact. He could feel it. Whatever she was about to say was not small. It pressed against his chest, heavy and ominous, like the moment before a door opened onto something irreversible.“Ivy,” he said
The first thing Ivy felt was the weight of her own heartbeat.It was loud, uneven, like it had been running for miles and still could not slow down. Her throat burned, her eyelids heavy, her body sore in places that had nothing to do with bruises. It felt like her bones remembered fear.She opened her eyes to a dim room and a soft lamp.For a second, she did not know where she was. Then the scent hit her, clean and familiar, expensive cologne mixed with something warmer, something human. The sheets were tucked too neatly, the curtains drawn like someone had wanted to protect her from the morning.Her fingers moved first, reaching out blindly.They found a hand.Warm. Firm. Real.Her gaze shifted.Asher sat beside the bed, shoulders slightly hunched forward, one forearm resting on the mattress. He was not sleeping deeply. He looked like he had been fighting sleep and losing it in small, reluctant fragments. His jaw was tight even in rest, like his body could not fully unclench anymore.
“It's 9 AM already…?” She asked herself before hurrying to the living room.The sound of movement in the living room stirred Ivy awake. She pulled on her robe and followed it, her bare feet whispering over the polished floor.Asher stood by the door, adjusting his cufflinks. The charcoal suit fit h
“He wants to speak to you alone.” Velvet's cold and calm voice is still ringing in her ears.The engagement announcement had barely been live twenty-four hours when Ivy found herself standing outside Asher’s private office in the Cole mansion.That alone set Ivy’s nerves on edge.She knocked. Once,
The low murmur of porcelain against porcelain was the only sound in the Cole family’s sunroom. Sunlight spilled through tall arched windows, catching on silver teaspoons and the faint steam curling from the teacups. The place smelled faintly of bergamot and roses, refined, calm… until the door open
THE COLE MANSION “The Cole mansion? Why did you bring me here, Miss Cole?” Ivy asked in a confused tone while looking around, her heart is beating faster than ever.The Cole mansion wasn’t just a house, it was a statement.“You ask too many questions, but…” She said, looking back at her with a dee







