Braxton’s fingers caress my cheek, his touch gentle and reverent. He leans in to capture my lips with his own once again, savoring the sweetness of our kiss. As our mouths move in a very passionate manner, my heart races even faster, my body yearning for more. But amidst the heady rush of emotions, unease gnaws at my mind. I break the kiss, breathless, and look into Braxton’s eyes with a mix of desire and apprehension. "Braxton," I whisper, my voice trembling slightly, "I want this, I truly do. But I'm afraid... afraid of what might happen afterward. I don’t wanna get pregnant again. Our Maddox got his blood disease because of our different DNAs." Braxton’s eyes soften, and he caresses my hair, tucking a loose strand behind my ear. "Eloise, there's no need to be afraid. We can take all the necessary precautions. We can be responsible together." My heart warms at his understanding, but the fear lingers. "I know, but even with precautions, there's still a chance, however small. I don'

-"You seem nervous?”- I pause, meeting the piercing gaze of Squall through my mind. ‘I am, but I know what I must do. The press conference is not just about refusing the engagement; it is about making a stand for my right to choose my own path.’ Squall nods in understanding. -”A powerful declaration indeed. But be wary, Braxton. The world can be unforgiving. Your actions may spark anger and fear.”- ‘I am aware of the risks,’ I reply, my eyes flaring with determination. ‘But I cannot allow our pack's destiny to be decided solely by the customs of old. Love and freedom should guide our choices, not duty and politics.’ -”Your father's shadow looms large over this decision. But remember, you are not him. You must lead with your own heart."- I exhale slowly, acknowledging the weight of dad’s legacy. ‘I respect my dad, but I cannot blindly follow his desire. He may have chosen this engagement for the greater good, but I’ll stay true to myself.’ -”Well, goodluck. Even if we alwa

When the moonlight starts to bathe my office’s space, my gaze is drawn to the figure that emerges from the shadows of my mind – Squall, its fur a silvery-gray that mirrors the moon's glow. His gold eyes bear an intelligence, a connection that transcends the boundaries of human speech. "Squall," my voice is a quiet rumble that resonates in the stillness. "Tonight, I’ll stand at a firm belief, a choice that will surely ripple through the threads of our pack's destiny." -"I’m so proud of you for choosing to stand against the tide of convenience.”- He declares, his voice firm like the air billowing around me. He then steps forward, his powerful frame radiating a sense of purpose. In the moonlight, his eyes flicker with an ancient wisdom, a sentinel of instincts and loyalty. Now is the time of reckoning, the time when I’ll address the press and, by extension, the country. I’ve spent the past hours locked in negotiations with myself and Squall, grappling with decisions that will shape

ELOISE’S POV: The rain falls in a melancholic rhythm, its soft pitter-patters against the penthouse’s glass windows, a haunting backdrop to the emotions raging within me. I sit alone in my dimly lit bedroom, the glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the walls. My eyes are fixed on the newspaper spread out before me laid on the vanity mirror. Its headline screams in bold letters, "CEO's Startling Confession: A Love and a Child Kept in Shadows." My trembling fingers reach out to trace the contours of the image printed beneath the headline. There we are, frozen in a candid moment of stolen tenderness - me, a chuckling woman with sparkling eyes, and my Maddox with spaghetti sauce painting his lips and cheeks. Our faces are captured by the lens of an unyielding camera during our first breakfast with Braxton as a family in a cafe a few days back. Braxton refused to name us during his press conference for our security. Still, these media outlets manage to find out our identiti

My Maddox’s eyes showcase the innocence of his youth and his smile that melts even the hardest of hearts. His tousled hair dances with his every movement, reflecting the golden light that surrounds him. His gaze is fixed on a figure near our table, a man of advanced age whose stern countenance seems carved from stone - his grandfather. His presence commands respect, yet also evokes a certain unease. My Maddox wiggles his body down from his chair, then wanders toward his grandfather. The soft pitter-patter of his small footsteps gets lost from the melodic strains of the quartet. When he finally stands before his grandfather, he looks up with wide, hopeful eyes that have a universe of curiosity and innocence. "Lolo," he begins, his voice a delicate whisper amidst the hum of the crowd, "D’you love me?" The question dangles in the air, a fragile moment suspended in time. Braxton and I exchange knowing glances, our curiosity piques by this unexpected action from our son. My heart sk