Caleb smiled wider, the kind of smile that tore at old wounds. "Why can’t we just talk… like old times?” he said softly, eyes still watching his brother’s pulse tick in his throat. “Remember the summer we burned the hedge maze because you were too proud to admit you were lost?” Elijah’s jaw clenched. “You came back after all these years… to pause my wedding?” Caleb strolled forward, placing a hand gently on Elijah’s shoulder. A bold, intimate act—too familiar. He inhaled slowly, his lashes fluttering like he was catching a long lost memory. “I love your scent,” he said with a calm eeriness. “Still the same as Mom’s. Rose and cedar. Still trying to smell like her.” Elijah’s hand shot up and knocked Caleb’s arm off his shoulder. “Keep her name out of your mouth,” he growled. Caleb smirked, head tilted. “Just the Elijah I know. Fiery. Predictable.” He paused. “I’m sorry.” It came out sincere, but laced with something else. Elijah narrowed his eyes. “Is that why our father sent yo

“So that’s it?” she asked, her arms crossed, eyes wide in disbelief. “You’re just… surrendering?” Elijah stood by the window, the skyline washed in gold as the city slowly woke up beneath his feet. His reflection on the glass looked older than he felt. Tired. Haunted. Behind him, Valeria’s voice broke the silence. Elijah didn’t turn. He just nodded slowly. “Everything I did back then—the lies, the blame, the blood—was dumped on Caleb’s head. And then…” He paused, swallowing hard. “I let him take the fall. For everything. Even our mother’s death.” Valeria froze. “You’re saying… Caleb didn’t kill her?” Elijah turned to her finally. His jaw clenched. “They put him in prison for it. Seventeen years. And he never said a word. Never told anyone what really happened.” Valeria stepped back slightly, like the air in the room had changed. “But he’s free now… and you think giving him the company will fix that?” Elijah shrugged helplessly. “What else can I do? I can’t fight my brother ove

Inside the sleek black Maybach, the silence was too much. Valeria sat in the passenger seat, her eyes flicking repeatedly to Elijah. His grip on the wheel was tight. Jaw clenched. The veins in his forearms strained beneath his shirt short sleeves, and his eyes never left the road ahead. The anger still radiated off him like heat from an active lava mountain. She swallowed and finally spoke, voice soft. “I’m sorry.” His knuckles whitened. “Do you even understand how dangerous it was going there alone?” Valeria stiffened. “What if something happened to you, Valeria? What if he laid a finger on you?” Elijah’s voice rose, sharp, almost panicked. “You think I could live with that?” “I’m fine,” she replied gently. “No, you’re not,” he snapped. “You almost weren’t. And the only reason I got there in time was because Sienna tracked your phone. God knows what would’ve happened if she hadn’t…” His voice trailed off, thick with whatever terror could have happened. Valeria looked out th

Elijah stood frozen, eyes wide, heart racing. His mother stared back at him, her hands shaking slightly, mouth parted in disbelief The tension in the kitchen was thick, years of pain, confusion, and betrayal all pressing into the same space. He slowly turned his head to Dr. Volkov, who had rolled back slightly from the scene, his gaze fixed on the floor. Avoiding Elijah’s eyes. “You knew,” Elijah said, voice sharp. “You knew she was alive all this time. And you chose to keep it from me?” Volkov didn’t answer at first. Elijah took a step forward. “You let me mourn her. You watched me lose my mind. And you said nothing?” Before the doctor could respond, Elijah’s mother stepped in. She had a small plate of cookies in one hand, and a glass of milk in the other. Her voice was calm, but firm. “It’s not his fault,” she said. “I asked him to keep the secret.” Elijah looked at her, confused. “Why?” She placed the plate and glass on the table and sat gently at the edge of a wooden cha

The room was quiet. Too quiet. Valeria sat still on the hospital bed, the smile long gone from her face. Her fingers lingered over the ultrasound photo like it was a treasure. The doctor stood beside the monitor, still checking her vitals when he turned and asked gently, “Why didn’t you tell him the other part of the news?” Valeria blinked, forcing a tight smile. “I couldn’t,” she said, her voice trembling. “The happiness on his face… the way he smiled like he had hope again. How could I ruin that?” The doctor sighed, taking off his gloves slowly. “You understand what this means, don’t you?” Valeria nodded, eyes locked on the photo. “I understand.” “The baby… if it goes full term…” He hesitated. Then said it. “You won’t survive it.” She closed her eyes. The words hit harder when said out loud. “Your womb is too weak to carry to term. And even if, by some miracle, you do… only *you* might survive. The chance of that is less than ten percent.” Her fingers curled. “The only