Jackson cupped her face, forcing her teary eyes to meet his. “Listen to me my princess... families, reputations, politics—I don’t care about all of that. You are mine and this child is ours. And I swear before heaven, Dianna, I will marry you. Even if both our families rise against us, I will make you my wife. No one, no one, can take this away from us.” Her lips parted, a sob caught between despair and relief. She clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping her from drowning. “Promise me you mean it, Jackson, promise me you won't abandon me.” He kissed her forehead, then her trembling lips. “With everything in me, I promise.” “I better get back home now, they might be wondering where I went. Before they send out a search party.” They parted reluctantly at the clinic gates. Jackson insisted on walking her to her car, his eyes never leaving her until she drove off. But as Dianna turned into the long stretch that led toward the Guler mansion, dread twisted her stom

***A FEW DAYS LATER*** The Guler estate stood like a fortress against the Riverage skyline, its iron gates gleaming in the late morning sun. Eliza, one of the maids, moved quietly through Dianna’s room, dusting the shelves and emptying the wastebasket as she did every morning. Her routine was as though mechanical, the motions learned over years of silent servitude. But today, as she tipped the small bin into the trash bag, something clattered against the floor. A thin white stick. She bent, frowning, and picked it up. Her eyes widened as she turned it in her hands. It was unmistakably a pregnancy test kit. The faint pink lines were still visible. Eliza’s heart raced. The air around her seemed to thicken as realization struck. Miss Dianna… pregnant? For a long moment, she stood frozen, torn between loyalty to her mistress and fear of her master. But she knew Finn Guler well, secrets never stayed buried in this house, and if he discovered she had hidden so

Back at the Miltons The living room was a storm of emotions as Harry relayed the message. His voice carried a weight that silenced the air. “Tomorrow. The Gulers want us at their mansion. All of us.” He set his glass down with a sharp clink. “It seems your recklessness has finally caught up with us, Jackson.” Sarah’s hand flew to her chest, her face pale. “All of us? What do they mean, Harry? What do they want to do?” Harry’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “They want answers. And perhaps… they want blood.” Helen swallowed hard, her earlier sternness slipping into unease. “So it’s true then? Is Dianna really pregnant?” Jackson’s head lifted, his bruised face resolute. “Yes. She is. And I don’t regret it.” Helen let out a soft cry, covering her face with her hands. Helen exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Jackson, you’ve doomed us.” But Jackson turned slowly, his gaze sweeping across each of them. His voice was steady, unwavering, like a man who had already chos

The drive back to the Milton home was tense, the silence suffocating. Jackson sat with Dianna’s hand firmly in his, their fingers entwined like lifelines. Sarah sat opposite them, tears still streaking her face, but she reached out to touch her son’s arm with trembling pride. Helen sat stiffly, her arms crossed, her expression locked in fury. She broke the silence first. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done, Jackson? You’ve dragged us all into the Guler fire. You didn’t just marry a girl—you signed us up for war.” Jackson turned his head slowly, his smirk tired but defiant. “Then so be it.” Helen scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re insane. Completely insane.” Harry finally spoke, his voice sharp and bitter. “Enough. All of you.” His eyes flicked to Jackson. “I don’t care if you love her. I don’t care if you’ve married her. What you’ve done is spit on strategy, on survival. Finn Guler will never forgive this. You’ve put us all in danger.” Jackson leaned forward, his voic

***Throwback*** Years ago, while Steven Milton was in prison, that hell hole was never meant to be a place for comfort, but Steven found something close to it when he met Princewill. It was one of those nights when Steven was thrown into the cell, bruised and broken after a brawl he hadn’t even started, when he was bullied and beaten. Princewill, who had been his roommate, he was convicted for fraudulent transactions and activities, his sentence was to last for a year. He had been the one who pulled Steven to the corner, tore a strip from his shirt, and pressed it against his bleeding lip. “You’ll live,” Princewill muttered, his tone neither soft nor harsh… just steady. Steven remembered that moment more than the pain itself. It was the steadiness in Princewill’s eyes, a kind of quiet strength that didn’t need to be announced. From then on, the two moved in sync. In a place where survival meant watching your back, Steven found that Princewill had already chosen to