“Are you trying to cause a scene?” June’s voice cut through, sharp and clipped. “The entire city is talking, Amelia. You didn’t even tell the press who he is, what he is.” Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose. “He’s my fiancé. That’s enough.” “For you, maybe. But not for this family.” “I don’t care what they think.” “You should,” June snapped. “Because if you don’t define him, they’ll do it for you. And it won’t be flattering.” There was a pause. Then Luca’s voice, calm and clear: “Put her on speaker.” Amelia hesitated, then did. “Mrs. Thornton,” he said. “I appreciate your concern. But I don’t need defending. Or defining.” “Then who are you, Luca?” June’s voice held no warmth. “What exactly do you bring to my daughter’s life, besides mystery and rumors?” Luca stood, walking slowly toward the window. His tone never wavered. “I bring her peace. And strength. The kind of love you can’t dress up in diamonds or put in a resume.” Silence. Then, with a sigh, June repl

George was already waiting, not too far from his stepfather's villa. That morning, his mother had suggested he invite the friend he was going out with. But George didn't want to risk it, he knew how easily his mom could get overly excited, and he didn't want to scare Ashley away.So he had told her. "Ashley doesn't do well with strangers. I'll bring her by when she's ready." Agnes had tried to persuade him otherwise, but George had been firm. Now, standing there with his hands tucked in his pockets, he glanced down the road. Moments later, a sleek black car pulled up beside him.One of the guards stepped forward and opened the door for Ashley. Ashley stepped out of the car, her soft lavender sundress fluttering slightly in the breeze. George couldn't help but smile. She really is beautiful when she's relaxed, he thought. Ashley noticed him right away and gave him a small wave. "Hey, sorry if I'm a bit late." "You're right on time." George replied, offering his hand

He hesitated only for a second before tapping “call.” Owen picked up quickly. "You're up early. That's new." Owen teased. Killian snorted. "Janelle's gone to work. And I've decided, I want in. On Nathalie's case." There was a short silence. "You sure?" "I am. I can work mornings and afternoons. Janelle's usually tied up with meetings till evening. That gives us time." "And you're not telling her?" "No." Killian replied simply. "She'd want me to take it easy. But I'm tired of sitting still. I need to do something again. Something real." "You think sneaking behind her back qualifies as ‘real’?" Owen asked dryly. "It's not sneaking. It's… strategic timing." Killian said, his tone dry. "Look, I won't put myself in danger. I just want to help push this forward. Nathalie deserves better than limbo." Owen sighed on the other end; "Alright. Then come by my place around ten. I'll have the files ready.” "Ten works." Killian took another sip of his coffee. "And Owen?" "

Killian leaned back against the desk, arms folded as he stared at the scattered files across Owen's table. His eyes scanned the pictures, notes, and maps they had pieced together from Nathalie's case. After a pause, he said casually but with purpose, "You know the only way to do this is using her as bait, why don't you want that?" Owen's head snapped up. "No, no no." he protested immediately, rising from his seat. "That's out of the question." Killian didn't flinch. His gaze stayed steady. "I know you like this girl," he said, voice calm but firm. "Even if you don't want to admit it. But if you want her to be free, you'd agree to using her as bait." Owen looked away, jaw tightening, but Killian wasn't done. "These sex traffickers, or syndicate, cartel, whatever name they decide to go by they won't stop until they find her. And if they do..." He walked closer to Owen, lowering his voice, "...you might not be there to protect her. Which would be dangerous." Owen didn't res

"No, no," Killian said quickly, clearing his throat. "I mean, aren't you working?" "I just didn't want you to be lonely," she said softly. "And I figured you might want to get out of the house for a bit. You've been cooped up for days now." Killian closed his eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his chair at the firm. Damn it, he should've known she might call. "You're sweet," he said, voice dipping into that velvet tone he reserved just for her. "But honestly, I'm okay. You shouldn't worry about me." "You're sure?" Janelle asked, hesitant. "I just thought you might need company..." "Tell you what," he cut in smoothly, "how about you come home early today instead? We'll do something simple. I'll have everything ready. No stress, no rush, just us." Janelle blinked at the suggestion, caught a little off-guard. "You want me to leave work early?" "I miss you," he said quietly, and it wasn't entirely a lie. "I'd rather have you to myself at h