Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 121 - Chapitre 129

~IsabellaI sat on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the wall. My hands trembled in my lap, my body still numb from the events that had just taken place. I had done it. I had broken down in tears. I had begged Nathaniel. Begged Sophia. Begged Ethan. Me. Isabella. The woman who once held her head high with pride, who never admitted to being wrong, who never shed a tear in front of anyone. And yet, tonight, I had collapsed in front of them, stripped bare of all my arrogance, all my anger, all my greed. I couldn’t believe myself. I clenched my fists, shaking my head. What the hell got into me? Was it the fear? The fear of going back to that hellhole of a prison? I had suffered too much to get out of there. I had fought, manipulated, bargained my way out. And now, I couldn’t risk going back. Maybe… maybe I had changed. Overnight. It was ridiculous to even think about it, but something inside me felt different. The money, the properties—the very things

~SophiaThe night was quiet, the kind of silence that should be peaceful, but I felt anything but peace. Lying on the bed, I turned to my side, feeling a strange discomfort in my stomach. A wave of nausea crept up my throat, making me feel dizzy. I groaned softly, shifting slightly, my hand reaching out toward the other side of the bed. My fingers brushed against Nathaniel’s bare chest—warm and steady. He was lying there, his breathing slow and even, completely unaware of my current state of misery. I swallowed thickly, trying to push back the sickness, but it wasn’t working. "Baby," I whispered, my voice weak. Nathaniel didn’t stir. He was still fast asleep, his face relaxed in the dim light of the room. I tried again. "Nathaniel… baby." This time, he shifted slightly before his eyes fluttered open. His gaze was heavy with sleep, but at the sound of my voice, his expression immediately changed. He turned to me, instantly alert. "My love," he murmured, his deep voi

~EthanThe hum of the private jet's engines was a steady background noise as I leaned back in my seat, stretching my legs in front of me. Through the large windows, the sky was a vast expanse of blue, painted with streaks of white clouds. Below us, the ocean stretched endlessly, shimmering under the afternoon sun. Beside me, my mother, Isabella, was practically glowing with happiness. “I still can’t believe I was considered for this trip,” she said, her voice soft with emotion. “A family vacation… I never imagined this would happen.” Before I could say anything, Sophia—sitting on the other side of her—reached over and took her hands, squeezing them gently. “Isabella,” Sophia said with a warm smile, “you’re family. And nothing can ever change that.” My mom blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. “Oh, Sophia…” Nathaniel, who was sitting across from us, smirked. “If she starts crying, we’ll have to turn the jet around.” Isabella laughed, wiping the corner of her eye.

~EthanThe coconut juice was ice cold, the perfect companion for a warm, salty breeze rolling in from the ocean. I leaned back against my chair, stretching my legs out in the soft golden sand, my sunglasses resting low on my nose as I took a slow sip. Beside me, Lily was doing the same, except she had managed to get half the coconut juice on her shirt rather than in her mouth. “You’re a mess,” I muttered, smirking. Lily rolled her eyes, licking a stray drop from her lips. “Whatever, Ethan.” I glanced at her sideways, raising an eyebrow. “You wanna tell me why you’ve been following me around since we got here? Shouldn’t you be with your parents in their room or something?” Lily groaned dramatically, sinking deeper into her chair. “Ugh. First of all, ew. Why would I want to be trapped in a room with them?” She sat up, turning to face me. “And second, we both know we’d end up around each other eventually, so why fight it?” I chuckled, shaking my head. “You’re unbelievable.”

~Sophia“Eight Months Later”Eight months had flown by in a beautiful blur, and now, here I was, sitting on our bed, cradling our bouncing baby boy in my arms. Nathaniel sat beside me, leaning in, staring at the tiny miracle we had created. His fingers gently traced our son’s little hands, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “He’s perfect,” Nathaniel murmured. I smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the baby’s forehead. “He really is.” But now came the hard part—choosing a name. Nathaniel sighed, stretching his legs out on the bed. “Alright, we need to settle this before he grows up and starts naming himself.” I chuckled. “I mean, he might as well, because we’ve been arguing for days.” Nathaniel smirked. “Well, that’s because your name choices are… questionable.” I gasped, pretending to be offended. “Excuse me? Ezra is a strong, beautiful name!” Nathaniel shook his head. “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t look like an Ezra.” I narrowed my eyes. “Okay, Mr. Perfect, what do you sugg