Liam’s small fingers dug into Jace’s trouser like claws. “Daddy please don’t go.” His tiny voice wasn’t a whimper…it was a plea, raw and desperate, the kind that melts heartsJace’s breath seized. Liam’s tears weren’t just falling…they were breaking him. Shattering tips off his resolve by the minute. He crouched, gripping his son’s small shoulder and said softly, “Look at me.” His thumb swiped a tear away. “Daddy’s coming back in time for your birthday.” The lie tasted bitter. Liam’s birthday. The one promise he couldn’t keep.“Presents?” Liam whispered. His eyes large and hopeful.Jace forced a grin. “So many, you won’t stop opening.”Liam laughed. Jace final resolve shattered.“Close your eyes and count to ten,” Jace coaxed, his voice softer now. “I will be back before you even finish counting.”Liam squeezed his eyes shut, and sniffled, "One… two… three…" Jace pressed a kiss to his forehead, then slipped out the door before his son could reach ‘four.’ The morning air was dewy,

The next two days saw Jace in a hotel, for he was unable to stay at that treacherous villa any longer, as it was clear he didn’t belong there. Divorce flashed in his mind—a clean break, a fresh start. Then… Liam’s laugh. Marie’s tiny hands clutching his finger. His breath stuttered. The Whitmans would bury him alive before they let him take those children. The second he walked out, Stella would erase him. New names. New schools and they will have a new daddy….Ethan. He was trapped. Either he returns to the mansion and forgets everything that had happened for the sake of his kids, or he divorces Stella and rents a place close to the mansion, so he can see his kids grow Then suddenly, his phone rang and he flinched…not at the sound, but at the absurdity. Who the hell calked at—he squinted at the screen—4:12am? Number unknown. Not Stella…who had blocked him. Not Ethan…who undoubtedly is too busy destroying his family. He silenced it But his phone kept ringing c

The alley’s damp walls seemed to press closer with each passing minute as Jace stared at Mike Reynolds, the old man’s words hanging between them, so thick in the air. “He is dying….two days, Jace. We have been searching for you for a long time. Your grandfather wishes to see you one last time.” Jace’s grip tightened with the DNA test still crumpled in his fist….proof of another betrayal. Now this? A grandfather he had not seen in twenty years? “You expect me to care?” Jace’s asked sharply. “That man exiled my father for wanting to be a doctor. Left him to die in poverty while I rotted in an orphanage. And now—what? Deathbed guilt?” Reynold didn’t flinch. “Your grandfather was wrong. But he searched for you for years and he couldn’t find any lead.” A muscle in Jace’s jaw twitched as he croaked, “Convince me.” “After your father left,” Reynolds began, “your grandfather regretted it by sunrise. But pride? It was a prison. A self imposed confinement. By the time he tracked you

The Withman estate glittered under crystal chandeliers, champagne glasses clinking as Stella twirled around in a silver gown, her engagement ring catching the light.“Yo my beautiful fiancée,” Ethan Montgomery announced loudly as he raised his glass, smirking at the crowd of socialites. “And to the end of unfortunate…entanglement.”Laughter rippled through the room as everyone looked at each other with a knowing look. In the far corner, Morana Withman whispered loudly, “Thank God that impotent waste of space signed the divorce papers. Did you see his face when the DNA results came in? Priceless.”Stella smiled widely. “Six years of pretending to love that peasant. At least the prenup guarantees he leaving us with nothing.”Ethan pulled her close lovingly and breathed, “Speaking of nothing….I am finalizing the Parkinson Group contract tomorrow. My father’s friendship with the old CEO practically guarantees we will win the bid.”The air buzzed with as a murmur of approval swept through

The Montgomery penthouse smelled of wilted roses and dried flowers. Stella Whitman stood beside the tall windows, her reflection, flawless under the full moon. “you are postponing?” Her voice icy and dripping with disapproval. “Our wedding is in three weeks, Ethan. The invitations have all been sent. The cathedral is booked. The—” Ethan’s gold wrist watch caught the light as he raised his hands like a surgeon’s gesture begging for patience. “With Parkinson controlling forty two percent of our shares…Stella, darling, be reasonable.” “I am not your darling.” She turned slowly, her Valentino gown glittering on the shiny marble. “Do you know what they are calling you at the club? The Jilted Groom. Because only a man who enjoys humiliation would let some orphan in a borrowed suit dictate his life.” Charles Montgomery chose that moment to enter, his gold plated walking cane tapping like a countdown counting down Ethan’s shame. “The boy’s right, Stella. This is not personal. That da