The SUV didn’t move fast. It didn’t need to. Its silence was heavier than speed.Aaron sat in the back, shoulders pressed against the cold leather seat, watching the road unravel through tinted glass. The city blurred by in muted shades of gray and orange, streetlights smearing into tired halos. He wanted to ask questions—where they were going, who was waiting—but he didn’t. His throat was too tight, his chest locked as if his ribs had grown into bars around his lungs.The driver said nothing. His hands gripped the wheel with the precision of someone who had been doing this for years, veins taut, knuckles pale. His eyes never left the road. There was something rehearsed about his silence, as though words would betray a plan carefully crafted long before Aaron ever stepped into this car.Instead, the man lifted one hand from the wheel and passed back a tablet. No explanation. No warning. Just a gesture, smooth and deliberate, like a knife sliding across a table.Aaron hesitated, finger

The penthouse was a mausoleum.Dust clung to the air, glittering faintly in the cracks of light that leaked past heavy curtains drawn too tight. The silence was thick, unnatural, broken only by the crunch of shattered glass beneath Liam’s shoes as he and Ava burst in. Their footsteps echoed like gunfire in a place that had forgotten sound.The air smelled of old carpet, metal, and something faintly electric—like a storm that hadn’t broken.Liam’s eyes scanned the room instantly, sharp and precise, cataloguing danger. His hand hovered near the weapon holstered beneath his jacket, every muscle poised to strike. But what he saw at the center of the room stopped him.Aaron.He sat cross-legged on the floor, a boy folded into himself, small against the cavernous room. The tablet lay beside him, its glow pulsing faintly across his face, shadows warping him into someone older, someone tired.He wasn’t chained. He wasn’t hurt. And yet Liam’s chest squeezed with a fear far sharper than any inj

The morning sun slanted through the curtains, gilding the dust motes that floated lazily in the air of the penthouse. Liam sat at the dining table, a mug of black coffee cooling between his hands. The world outside was alive with the people going fir their business concerns. Yet Liam’s world had grown unbearably heavy, the silence inside his chest echoing with everything left unsaid. He hadn’t spoken much since the confrontation with Ava’s father. The cruel words replayed in his mind: You will never be one of us. You were never meant to sit at our table. Words that left bruises no hand could touch. He tried to drown them with long hours at work, sweat dripping, muscles aching, but every night when he lay down, they returned—sharp and unrelenting. Everyone had accepted him and his fortune and he had even increased his wealth by his hard work and strategies but Fredrick Langston still felt he was beneath him. He wouldn't even address him by his new and rightful name : Liam Hawthorne

The chandelier above seemed to sway with the weight of the silence. It wasn’t, of course—its golden branches remained steady, crystal droplets catching the light—but to Liam Hawthorne, the room felt tilted, off-balance, as though the air itself had fractured.Cassian Rhys stood at the edge of the ballroom, every inch of him dressed in a confidence that didn’t belong to youth. His shoulders were squared, his jaw sharp, his smile carefully honed. The room full of billionaires, diplomats, and hidden predators reacted like bloodhounds catching a fresh scent—some stiffened, some leaned forward, and all of them turned their gaze away from Liam.The shift was subtle but unmistakable. For years, Liam had been the center of every room he entered. Tonight, that center of gravity threatened to move. It was not the shift in attention that made him feel threatened, it was being prepared for all else but this. No one had prepared him for this encounter. Ava had said nothing and the shock alone woul

SlLiam poured himself a drink from the bar, though his hand shook enough to spill a few drops across the counter. The amber liquid burned down his throat, but it wasn’t enough to drown the storm. He stared out at the glittering skyline beyond the window, voice like gravel when he finally spoke again. “Do you want him back?”The words fell like a gauntlet. Ava flinched as though he’d struck her. “What?”“You heard me.” He turned to face her, glass dangling from his hand. “Do you want him back? Because he looked at you tonight like he already owned a piece of you. And if that’s true, then I need to know now before I decide how to deal with him.”Ava’s eyes filled with something raw, but she didn’t look away. “I want the boy I lost, Liam. But that’s not who stood in that room. That’s not Cassian. Not anymore. He’s someone else’s creation. I don’t want him—I want him freed.”Liam’s jaw slackened, then tightened again. For a moment, the rage cooled enough to reveal the aching truth beneath