Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 321 - Chapitre 330

Michael's POV The early morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, warming the wooden floor beneath my feet as I stepped into Ashley’s cozy kitchen with a mug of coffee in hand. The scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar lingered faintly in the air—Ashley’s failed cookie experiment. She wasn’t going to live that one down anytime soon. I promised to do what she did to me when I would invite her over to my place for dinner and I would mistakenly burn our food and we ended up ordering pizza. It was my time to pay her back. I took a slow sip from my mug and smiled to myself. Today was the day. A break from the heaviness, the confusion, and the unspoken pain that had hovered over all of us like storm clouds. We were going on a road trip—not far, just enough to escape the routine and, hopefully, give Henry something to smile about again. The plan had been in motion for a couple days. I had already talked to Henry’s school principal and explained that he needed a few days o

Michael’s POV The sun was still high up in the sky, pouring it's golden streeks outside Ashley’s apartment window. The street was still, save for the two stone-faced bodyguards loitering outside the building entrance like shadows glued to the sidewalk. Their presence was a constant reminder that this road trip wasn’t going to be the casual, laughter-filled escape I had envisioned. Ashley’s voice broke the silence behind me, tight with frustration. “He’s coming with us, Michael. Can you believe that?” I rubbed my hands down my face slowly, inhaling through my nose. “Yeah. I can.” I turned to her, catching the subtle shift in her expression—the one that always came when she tiptoed around defining what we were. God, I wanted to tell her right there that none of those definitions mattered if Fernando kept screwing everything up. “I don’t like this,” she said softly. “Henry doesn’t either. He hasn’t said it outright, but I know.” I nodded, jaw tight. “I’m gonna talk to Mar

Archer’s POV I sat behind my desk, staring blankly at the documents that had been piling up like bricks of guilt. Contracts, acquisition reports, and memos that required my signature. Important things, by any definition. But in the grand scheme of things, they meant nothing. Not when the one person I needed to see had vanished. It has been five whole days. Five long, punishing days since I last saw Fernando in that hospital bed. And then there was Marlo. That smug, controlling puppet master with a smug face sharp enough to cut bone. He had swept in like a storm, wrapping himself in legal rights and emotional authority, and shut me out with no updates, no visits, and no explanations. Just silence. I wasn't even allowed in the room. “He needs space,” he had said. Space? Fernando had an entire wing of the hospital to himself. What he needed was me. What I needed… was proof that I still mattered to him. Proof that I wasn’t just some faded memory in the chaos of his broken min

Fernando’s POV The sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires jolted me out of my thoughts. We slowed to a stop at a run-down gas station, barely lit by flickering overhead lights. A crooked neon sign buzzed above the little convenience store, casting a pale red glow across the cracked pavement. It wasn’t the kind of place you would expect someone like me—or any member of the Ramirez family—to stop at, but Ashley had said we needed gas and a bathroom break. So, here we were. “Anyone who needs to use the restroom, now’s your chance,” Ashley called out as she opened her door and made her way toward the pump. Michael and Henry were already unbuckling. Michael gave me a look—one I knew too well by now. It was that silently judgmental stare, like he was waiting for me to mess up. Again. “Come on, Henry,” Michael said. “Let’s hit the restroom.” They both disappeared behind the store as Ashley began fueling up the car. I stayed behind a moment, watching the dark horizon, the outl

Michael’s POV The car hummed gently as it cut through the long stretch of highway, the sun casting golden bars of light across the road. Henry sat beside me in the back seat, small hands folded tightly on his lap. His eyes, wide and downcast, stared blankly out the window, lips pressed into a thin, guilty line. He hadn’t said a word since Fernando and I had pulled him away from that hooded stranger and practically carried him back to the car. I could still see that man in my head. The hoodie pulled low, the way his stance leaned in just a bit too close to Henry. I hadn’t seen his face, none of us had, but my gut twisted every time I replayed that scene. And now we were back on the road—tense, silent, and on edge. I sighed, running a hand over my face before turning to Henry. "Hey, buddy," I said softly, nudging him gently. "Can we talk?" He glanced at me, hesitant, then nodded. "You know I’m not mad at you, right?" He looked up, lip trembling slightly. “But Dad is.” I