LOGINIt’s been one week since Roman lost Tessa at the airport. He didn’t know if she was halfway across the country or the continent, whichever it was, she wasn't by his side.And now…another goodbye waited for him.Roman stood quietly at the edge of the foyer as members of the house staff carried the last of Alec and Lakshmi’s suitcases toward the waiting SUV. The polished marble floors echoed with footsteps, soft conversations, and the occasional scrape of luggage wheels.Everyone had gathered to see them off.The atmosphere was warm—filled with smiles that tried very hard to hide the sadness beneath them.“Oh, Lakshmi,” Salima said, pulling the young woman into a warm embrace. “It was so good having you here.”Lakshmi smiled as she hugged her back.“Thank you for having me, Mrs Blackwood. You made me feel like family from the very first day.”“You are family,” Salima corrected gently. “Don’t ever think otherwise.”Lakshmi’s smile widened. “I won’t.”Salima stepped aside, turning toward
5 AMThe morning was pale and cold. Tessa stood in the doorway of her bedroom, watching as Daniel moved through the house with practised efficiency.Suitcases lined the hallway. Boxes were stacked by the front door. Everything they owned, packed into containers and labeled with a destination she hadn't chosen.Chicago.She still couldn't believe it."You ready?" Daniel asked, not looking up from his phone.Tessa didn't answer.He glanced at her. "Tessa?""I heard you." She snapped."Then answer the question." He fired back.She crossed her arms. “Sure.”Daniel's jaw tightened, but he didn't rise to the bait. "The car will be here in twenty minutes. Make sure you have everything. I’ll get Dad.”He walked past her toward the kitchen.Tessa stood there for a moment longer, then turned back into her room.The bed was bare. The walls were empty. The closet was a graveyard of hangers.She had packed light — one suitcase, one carry-on, one bag for things she couldn't bear to leave behind. A
Roman sat in his car, parked outside his own house.The engine was off. The night was quiet. But inside the car, the only sound was the relentless beep of a call that wouldn't go through.He pulled the phone from his ear and stared at the screen."What the hell Tessa?” He murmured.He had called her seven times today. Fourteen times this week. Dozens of times over the past month.Yet, no response.The line just kept beeping. No ring. No voicemail. Just... nothing.She blocked me.The thought sat in his chest like a stone.He understood things had been difficult between them. He understood she was hurt, angry, confused. But to block him completely? To cut him off without a word?That was more frustrating than he’d like to admit.He groaned and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.His eyes fell on the items beside it — flowers, chocolates, a small velvet box he hadn't touched. Romantic things. Hopeful things. Things he had planned to give her tonight.Now he just looked stupid.He
The sound of Eleanor's heels against the marble floor echoed through the corridor.She had faced many difficult situations before. Boardroom battles. Social scandals. The return of a dead husband. But this — watching her son be led away in shackles while the world watched — this had to be the most humiliating.She put on her dark glasses and continued down the corridor."Eleanor."The voice stopped her cold.She turned.Salima and Roman walked toward her, side by side. Roman's face was unreadable. Salima's was not.Eleanor exhaled sharply. "Salima. Roman." She adjusted her sunglasses. "I believe you are here to gloat."Salima stepped closer, her shoulders high, her chin lifted. The years between them seemed to collapse into a single moment."Do you remember," Salima said quietly, "months ago... in this very courthouse... you stood there after you tried to lock up my son. And you told me that it was just the consequences of his bad decisions?"Eleanor's jaw tightened. She said nothing.
The courtroom was already packed by the time the deputies brought Grayson in.The chains around his wrists rattled softly with each step.For the first time in his life, Grayson Thorne looked small.The expensive suits were gone. The arrogance was harder to maintain in a prison uniform. Bruises still lingered along his jaw from the night of his arrest, and dark circles sat beneath his eyes.A murmur swept through the gallery as he entered.Roman watched silently from the front row.Grayson’s eyes immediately found him.The hatred there was instant.Raw and unfiltered.A deputy guided him toward the defence table.On the opposite side of the courtroom sat Eleanor and Liam.Eleanor looked immaculate as always. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect posture.But her hands were clenched tightly together in her lap.Liam sat beside her, his expression unreadable.A few seats away sat Bernard.Salima occupied the space between Bernard and Victor.The arrangement hadn’t been planned, but Roma
Roman stood before the mirror, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. His suit was jet black, crisp and expensive. His watch clicked into place — a gift from his father, years ago, before everything fell apart.He barely recognised himself.Not because he looked different. But because he felt lighter than he had in months.It had been four weeks.Four weeks since the fire.Four weeks since Grayson had been dragged away in handcuffs while screaming threats into the night.And now the day had finally arrived.The trial.Grayson would finally face consequences. And Roman could breathe.The door opened behind him."Hi, Mom," Roman said without turning. "Good morning.”Salima stepped into the room, her heels soft against the carpet. She was dressed in a deep navy dress, understated but elegant. Her hair was pinned back. Her face was calm."Good morning," she said. She walked up to him and reached for his tie. "Let me."Roman laughed. “You know I can do that myself.”“Clearly not very well.” Sal
Salima stepped into her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her with a soft thud.The house was silent, the kind of heavy quiet that pressed in after a long, draining night.She slipped off her earrings, setting them on the dresser, then reached for the zipper of her emerald blouse.A knock echo
Salima stepped further in, hanging her coat on the stand with deliberate care.“I asked what’s going on,” she said, voice calm but edged with steel. “I don’t like repeating myself.”Davin moved closer, mouth opening. “There’s something you should know, Salima—”Tessa turned to him sharply. “What ar
Davin’s flashlight beam swept the spare bedroom again, slower this time, taking it all in.The wall was a nightmare mapped out in photographs and red markers.There were so many photos. Roman leaving the hospital after the shooting—his arm in a sling, his face grim.Tessa was on the terrace steps,
Two Months laterThe nursery was quiet except for the soft creak of the rocking chair Tessa refused to sit in.The street lamps spilt through the curtains, creating stripes across the half-finished crib.A mobile with tiny stars and moons Roman had hung himself—moved gently in the air.Tessa stood







