Chapter Three – Salem For three fucking days, I tried everything to make Lucian snap. I pushed, provoked, and tempted, but he didn’t even flinch. So, I gave up—for now and spent the next few days exploring the east wing of the mansion, my side of this cold, cavernous prison. That’s when I realized something eerie: only Lucian and I actually lived here. The maids and butlers came in during the day to clean, then vanished like ghosts. No one ever stayed. The silence was suffocating—the kind that crept into your bones. I once screamed just to test it, and the echo came back at me repeatedly, bouncing through the halls like a warning. It gave me chills every damn time. But what really got under my skin was the surveillance. Tiny, nearly invisible cameras tucked into corners, camouflaged in shadows. Lucian had eyes everywhere. Watching. Recording. Waiting. I rushed to my bedroom, heart racing, suddenly desperate to know if he’d placed a few there too. The second I found none, I f
Salem~ Lucian Vale was my mom's ex-lover. A man she couldn’t stop thinking about, not for a second. He occupied every corner of her mind, every glance, every breath. Because of him, the warmth in our home died slowly. The way my father used to look at my mother—with soft eyes and quiet admiration—turned into something bitter, hard. He started coming home later and later. Stopped talking during dinner. Until one day, he packed his things, signed the divorce papers, and walked out of our lives like he’d never belonged in them. As a kid, I didn’t understand why my father left. I thought maybe he just didn’t love us enough. Maybe he was the problem. But now… now that I’m older—now that I see the world for what it really is. I realized the truth. There was something wrong with my mom. Something obsessive. Twisted. She didn’t just love Lucian Vale. She worshipped him. My father probably got tired, frustrated, watching the woman he married fall to pieces over a man who wasn’t e
Salem~ I was only seven years old the first time I saw him. Still young and innocent, my mother had taken me to his mansion. I vividly remember how she looked—wearing a short red dress, cheeks flushed, eyes cast shyly at Mr. Lucian. She didn’t waste a moment pampering me with toys and my favorite sweets before slipping away down a shadowy hallway with him. At the time, I was excited, convinced my mother was simply trying to make me happy, like any loving mom would. But I didn’t realize then how hard she was working to keep me out of the way—distracting me, stalling me—so she could get exactly what she wanted. It didn’t just happen once. Or twice. It was every time we came. She’d take me there, drop me off in the living room with some toys and sweets, kiss my forehead like that made it okay, and then vanish down that dark hallway with him. But I was a kid. I noticed. And one day, I couldn’t help it. Curiosity shoved me off the couch, and I found myself tiptoeing toward that ha
AVA’S POVThe WeddingSometimes, I catch myself staring at her—Maria just to remind myself she’s real.Six months old, and already the center of our world. She had Wolfe’s lips and my nose, and eyes that were still deciding what color they wanted to be. Sometimes grey, sometimes brown, sometimes a soft storm between.Right now, she was in my mother’s arms, dressed in a tiny satin gown that had bows on the sleeves and frills that made her look like a walking cupcake. Wolfe had picked it out himself. Said it looked “regal.” He couldn’t stop fixing the bow on her headband all morning like it was the most important job he’d ever been given.I still couldn’t believe he was mine.He wasn’t supposed to be. But here we were. On our wedding day. And he was waiting for me at the altar.---When I first told my parents about Maria, I was terrified.They’d flown in the next day. Wolfe opened the door, and my mom just stood there, frozen, blinking past him into the living room where Maria was lyin
A nurse pressed our baby into her arms, and Ava let out this broken, breathless sound, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Ava's hands trembled as she cradled the tiny bundle close. The baby’s cries softened into little hiccuping whimpers, and she just stared, transfixed, her lips parted in shock. I couldn’t take my eyes off either of them. She was here. The baby was here. And I— I didn’t know what to do with the way my chest felt like it was caving in and expanding all at once. The nurse leaned in, smiling. “Congratulations. You have a daughter.” A daughter. I choked on air. She turned her head slightly, finally looking at me, her eyes wide and swimming with tears. “Wolfe,” she whispered, voice raw. “She’s—she’s ours.” I reached out, my fingers brushing the top of the baby’s head. It was so soft, so impossibly small and then I cupped her cheek, my thumb sweeping away the tears. “Yeah,” I rasped. “She is.” Our daughter. *Ours*. She let out a shuddering breath, he
WOLFE’S POV I heard her breathing before I even saw her. Labored. Tight. Shaky like she was holding it together with all her strength. And then I turned the corner and saw her half-collapsed by the garden, hands curled into the dirt like she’d fallen and hadn’t had the strength to get back up. My heart dropped. I don’t remember getting out of the car. I just remember the weight of her in my arms, her skin damp with sweat, her lips pressed into a thin, trembling line as she fought off whatever the hell was happening. She tried to speak, and I leaned in, desperate. “My back hurts,” she whispered. “And my stomach. It keeps coming and going like… waves.” I didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. Didn’t sound normal. I got her in the car and drove like the devil himself was chasing me. My knuckles went white on the wheel. I broke every traffic law I ever learned. She winced beside me, and I swear my chest cracked open. She was in pain. And I didn’t know how to stop