All Chapters of Aaliyah’s Return : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

I sit in my bed for a while, replaying the previous day’s events. What a whirlwind. Luna Carlista’s harsh words echo in my ears, her cold, piercing stare lingering as if I were nothing. But that doesn’t move me. I have crawled from the depths of hell to build a life for myself and my son. She cannot take that away. She cannot. If she thinks I’m not good enough for her son, that’s her bloody business. But her son wants me. I see it in the way he looks at me, in the way he reaches for me. Suppose she wants to keep her opinion fine. But it’s not my cross to carry. The phone rings, yanking me from my thoughts. I glance at the screen, see his name “Shawn”—and can’t help but smile before answering.“Hi, darling. How are you doing?”“I’m good. How are you?”“I thought about you all night,” he says, his voice warm. “I just had to call and hear your voice this morning.”I blush despite myself.“I’m just being honest, Aaliyah,” he continues. “I know you say I’m a smooth talke

They were all waiting when I stepped out. Noah bounced in his seat, grinning wide.“Mum, Dad says I can go out for dinner with Uncle Gabe and Aunty Amanda?”“That’s fine, honey. Where’s your jacket?”“Thank you, Mum and Dad! Bye, Uncle Desmond, bye Uncle Shawn!” He darted off before I could answer. I looked at the men, trying to lighten the air. “So, you all made it on time for once?”No laughter. Just steady, serious eyes.“This is about you,” one of them said. “You matter to us.” The words stilled me. I sank into the middle of them, letting their heat wrap around me like a shield. Brandon passed the laptop to Shawn.“Do the honors.”Shawn slipped a USB from his pocket. “Better save this first. No telling if it’ll vanish.” He moved quickly. Keys clicked. Then the email opened. The room breathed in sharply as one. Photos filled the screen. Morgan, caught in a filthy brothel—not the sleek clubs we knew, but a low, stinking place. His trousers around his knees, women drape

I wake up and it’s there again the same question that was plaguing my thoughts before I slept . Geena and Morgan. Why? Why did she stay? How did she even last this long with him? It isn’t curiosity anymore, not really. It’s heavier, like a stone pressing in the middle of my chest cavity. I try to shove it down, but it just creeps right back. My phone rings before I can even think straight. I grab it without looking at the name.“Hello?” My voice is rough, tired.“Hey, beautiful. Did you sleep well?” Shawn. His voice is deep and sexy the kind that makes me blush without even realizing I’m doing it.“Mm. Hey, Shawn, I slept like a baby ….” I yawn sounding soft, almost dreamy. I don’t mean to, react to him so strongly I can’t help it. And, honestly, I don’t want to fight it.He laughs under his breath. “That’s because you are one, I’ve got this work thing I can’t miss, so I’ll be gone for a bit. Just a week. I’ll call you every single day though.” A week. He learned his lesson, then. Goo

Days later, I had just woken up when my phone started ringing on my bedside table. I checked the screen, still a bit sleepy. The clock read 8:00 a.m. sharp. Who could be calling me at this unholy hour? I pressed the answer icon on my screen and pressed the phone to my ear. “Hello, Who is this ?”At first, there was just static —a faint crackle of the line and then… light breathing. Slow. Measured. Almost deliberate. My brows furrowed.“Hello? Hello?” I repeated, my voice sharpening.Still nothing. Just the same eerie breathing, like whoever it was wanted me to know they were there but wouldn’t say a word. A shiver ran through me, unwelcome. I pulled the phone away from my ear and checked the screen. The person had not ended the call. That was a bit Spooky. ….. I ended the call stared at the phone, waiting anxiously to see if they’d call back. Nothing. No text. No voicemail. No explanation. Just silence Probably just a prank call. Or a mistake. Still, the disturbing feelin

I woke up slow today, stretched out like a cheshire cat that didn’t want to move. The clock on the side table said 9:00 a.m. already. It is a bit later than I planned, but honestly, who cares this is why being your own boss is so important . I pick up the remote and turn on the TV, its on the Food Channel, and I sat watching for a while hoping for some kind of breakfast inspo. Of recent I seem to be making the same boring meals every morning. Maybe a proper English breakfast will hit the spot this time, I thought. I rolled myself onto the floor after and did a half hour of yoga mixed with a bit of Pilates. Not perfect, I just move around until I feel better. Shower after that—hot, steaming, clearing out my head. Then clothes. Tweed skirt. Matching jacket. Beige camisole under. Didn’t think too hard about it. I blow dried my hair, letting music fill the kitchen. Old CD, soft and easy. The kind of background noise that makes you forget you’re alone for a minute. Opened th