Author’s pov
At the Locke estate, the sa evening.
Zane sat alone in his private study, the lights low and the room quiet. He opened the drawer and took out the DNA results that had arrived earlier.
He hadn’t looked at them right away. He waited until the house was silent and he was ready to face whatever the truth was.
With trembling fingers, he tore open the envelope and unfolded the report.
Flipping to the final page, his eyes scanned for the summary.
His breath caught.
No... genetic relationship.
No... no...
The words hit him like a punch to the chest. He slumped back in his chair, the disappointnt washing over him like cold rain.
How foolish he’d been. Cecilia wasn’t his daughter. Just another desperate illusion.
Why would fate be kind now, after everything it had taken from him?
He took off his glasses, letting his hand drop limply to his thigh. The silence around him deepened, filled only by the dull ache of regret and the weight of crushing loneliness.
--
In the glass conservatory beside the main house, the lights still glowed despite the late hour.
Mist from the humidifiers drifted through the air, giving the exotic roses an ethereal, almost surreal look in the artificial light.
Maggie sat in the middle of the room, trimming flowers slowly and carefully.
Across from her, Xenia ran barefoot through the mist, laughing as she tried to catch the tiny water droplets. Her curls bounced with every step, and her cheeks were bright pink from the excitent.
There was another DNA report sitting on the coffee table.
Zane thought he’d been careful. He sent the samples overseas, used fake nas, kept everything as secret as he could.
But clearly, that wasn’t enough. He’d underestimated her.
She didn’t know whose sample he’d tested. But one thing was certain: he was looking for a child that wasn’t hers.
An illegitimate child.
Zane had hidden a woman. A woman who had borne his child.
That was the true betrayal.
It made her blood boil.
No matter. She would find this woman. She would find the child. And when she did, they would pay in ways history wouldn’t forget.
"Mrs. Maggie, are you listening to ?" a middle-aged woman’s voice ca through her Bluetooth earpiece.
Maggie blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. "Continue."
"Cecilia disappeared for a few days, but now she’s popped up in Colorado Springs. And guess what? She’s staying right near Martha. Cassian’s back too.Cassian’s back too. Isn’t this the perfect chance to execute the plan?"
"I can’t make a move on the Martha’s territory," Maggie said sharply. "We wait until they leave."
"What’s stopping you? What exactly are you afraid of?" the voice challenged. "I say bring them together and wipe them out. Zane included. He’s betrayed you anyway. Or are you still clinging to so outdated notion of marital loyalty?"
"I said no." Her voice turned icy. "You don’t need to understand my reasons."
"Kill them all, and the Locke family’s yours. What are you hesitating for? If you won’t do it, we will."
Maggie’s tone dropped to a dangerous calm.
"I don’t take kindly to people dictating my strategy. I appreciate the Ascendancy’s support, but I won’t tolerate interference."
A loaded silence followed.
Then the voice returned, colder than before.
"Well then, Mrs. Maggie, you should rember: if you fail to secure the Locke legacy, the Ascendancy has standard protocols for dealing with... obsolete assets. We’re only trying to help you succeed."
A soft, chilling laugh escaped Maggie’s lips as she watched her daughter twirl through the mist. Lowering her voice, she hissed,"Don’t waste your breath on lectures. And do pass my regards to Belinda. I’m sure she’ll know what that ans."
She ended the call.
The plan against Cassian wasn’t going as expected. Zane had blindsided her with this secret child, and now the Ascendancy had the nerve to pressure her.
She had done her howork on Belinda.
She was new to the Ascendancy, surrounded by mystery. No confird photos. No one knew where she was. People only spoke about her in low voices, saying she was ruthless, maybe even unstable.
If Belinda hadn’t reached out first with intel on Sebastian and their shared grudge, Maggie wouldn’t have even picked up the phone.
Psychopaths who killed for pleasure were too unpredictable for long-term alliances.
With a flick of her wrist, Maggie tossed the roses onto the table, grabbed the DNA report, and shredded it.
"Xenia," she called, watching her daughter spin in slow circles. "That’s enough playing. It’s bedti."
Xenia skipped over, clutching two crumpled flowers.
She flopped onto the sofa beside her mother, murmuring, "Sleepy ti. Xenia sleepy ti now."
Maggie brushed a hand over her hair. "You can’t sleep here, sweetheart. Let’s go to your room."
"Sleepy ti," Xenia repeated softly, curling under the throw blanket.
With a sigh, Maggie let her stay.
She tucked the blanket tighter around her and stared at her daughter’s peaceful face.
So soft. So trusting. So easy to love.
Too easy.
And far too fragile for the world Maggie was building.
She sat back in her chair, eyes still on Xenia.
There wouldn’t always be blankets and gardens and fairy lights. Not when legacy was on the line.
Alpha Xavier had the looks, the status, and the political weight. The Blood Moon Pack had influence.
She had planned for him to marry her daughter.
It was the perfect match.
But Alpha Xavier hadn’t been interested. He didn’t even pretend.
Maggie wasn’t used to being told no.
She still had Luna Dora’s secret. And if Alpha Xavier refused to play along, she had ways to make him reconsider.
Cecilia’s pov
The next day at noon, we arrived at Martha’s house for lunch.
The place looked just like I pictured it: elegant, cozy, and honestly... a little too perfect.
Including Yulia and Levi, there were six of us seated around a large round table, crowded with dishes that sohow managed to cater to everyone’s preferences.
The conversation flowed easily as we ate. Or at least, it started that way.
"Cece, what do your parents do?" Martha asked with a polite smile, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.
"They’re both university professors," I replied truthfully.
"Teachers! How wonderful. Educating young minds, fostering intellectual growth. Very admirable," she said with a gracious nod.
"You’re too kind, Martha."
She smiled and sipped her tea. "I hear you’re a friend of Cassian’s. How did you two et? That boy is always jetting off sowhere."
Ugh, Cassian again.
Why did we always end up talking about him?
I felt a flicker of unease but kept my tone steady. "We t through work."
Technically true. Our first encounter had happened during a business trip, even if no one at that eting had expected things to spiral into a whirlwind of chaos and danger.
Martha nodded slowly, a twinkle in her eye. "I see. t through work, developed feelings, and romance blossod."
I choked on my water and started coughing uncontrollably.
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