All Chapters of FORGIVE OR FURY: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

I still remember the look of the city that night, as if it were deliberately putting on a show just for me. So many twinkling lights down there far below the windows of our penthouse flat, trying to convince me that the whole point was safe and easy. Standing there in my bare feet on the cold marble stone, the cold cup of chamomile I’d been sipping forgotten in my hands, I didn’t mind. Because soon enough, Adrian would come through that door, shed his coat, his arms go around me from behind, and his lips on the back of my neck the way they always were. proof of our presence.Three years married and I still got butterflies when I thought his name. Adrian Blackwood.Dark eyes, the kind that could freeze you in your tracks, a heavy, rough sound as he spoke, as if sharing a revelation, a shared, unspoken truth between the two of them. He managed Blackwood Enterprises like a military general: crisp, unreachable. Around me, he let his hair down. He listened as I launched into a discussion of

Finally, as the crying diminished to hiccups, she patted my knee.“Men break things," she stated simply. “Sometimes they break us, too. But you’re still here. That’s the part that matters."I stayed with her for three days. Slept in her guest room, which smelled like mothballs and lavender. Ate arroz con pollo until I could keep that down. Made phone calls from her landline phone: cards canceled, new ones on the way and going straight to a PO box. Reported car stolen rather than explain my involvement. Informed gallery that I needed indefinite leave of absence “due to family emergency.”I hadn’t said anything to anyone about the baby. Not yet.On the fourth day, I got a cheap burn phone, looked at the phone number of Adrian for twenty minutes, and then I blocked that number.Isabel’s too.I told myself that it was a need to survive, to preserve myself. I told myself that I was protecting the baby.But deep down I knew the truth. I knew I was afraid of what I’d do if I heard his voice.

Lies. It was something I could sense in my own gut. But God, his voice soft and pleading pulled at the broken parts of me. "How? How do you prove something like that?""Let me help with the baby. Doctor visits. Whatever you need. We can start slow. No strings."I shook my head, moving farther away from him. “No. I don’t trust you. Not after everything.”He reached out to me, his fingers brushing my arm softly. “Please, Cece. For our child.” It was almost. electrified connection. almost familiar.How did he know it was a girl? The nurse? Or was he bluffing? My resolve cracked just a fraction. "One coffee. Tomorrow. Public place. That's all."His smile was slow, victorious. "Thank you. You won't regret it."But as he walked away, I already did.Isabel paced in her sleek apartment, the city skyline an arrogant pose outside her windows. Adrian had not responded to her texts again! Since Cecilia went missing, he had been different - distant, obsessed: scouring hospitals, hiring private inv

The rain had stopped by the time I got home that night, but inside me the storm never ended. I sat on the edge of my narrow bed, hands pressed to my belly where our daughter our little girl was growing stronger every day. She kicked once, twice, like she was trying to remind me I wasn’t alone. I whispered to her in the dark, “We’re going to be okay, baby. Even if Mommy’s heart is in pieces again.”Adrian’s kiss still burned on my lips. That desperate, hungry press of his mouth against mine in the hallway outside my apartment it had felt real. Too real. For one stupid heartbeat I’d almost believed the remorse in his eyes, the way his voice cracked when he said he loved me. Almost.But Isabel’s call kept replaying in my head.He’s using you still. Revenge isn’t over.I blocked the memory the same way I’d blocked his numbers. I told myself I was done. Done believing. Done hoping. Done letting either of them near the fragile life we’d built.Yet the next morning, when I opened the door to

"Properties like that move fast, especially this time of year," she said brightly. "We could have offers in weeks.""Make it fast," I replied. "Cash buyers preferred."She didn't ask why. People selling family homes rarely wanted to talk about it.While the listing went live, I saved every penny from the bookstore. Skipped lunches, walked instead of taking cabs, bought only the essentials for the baby tiny onesies from thrift stores, a secondhand crib I'd paint soft yellow. My boss noticed my distraction, pulled me aside one afternoon."Cecilia, honey," she said gently, her wrinkled hands on mine. "You've been somewhere else for weeks. Talk to me."I almost broke then. Almost spilled everything the betrayal, the babies, the way my heart felt permanently cracked open. But I swallowed it down."Just... life changes," I managed. "Good ones, I hope. I'm thinking of moving. Starting fresh."Her eyes softened. "Sometimes that's exactly what we need. You'll tell me before you go?"I nodded,