Christina’s POV
Daniel sat beside near the front window, pretending to be interested in the sketches on my tablet.
He’d just returned from Sunset City with my luggage. After my hasty departure with Hudson, he’d packed everything for .
I hadn’t specifically asked him to do that.
He’d offered. Probably thought it would earn him points.
His gaze kept drifting toward occasionally.
I ignored it.
Then his phone chid.
He opened the ssage, glanced at it, and froze.
"What’s wrong?" I asked.
"Nothing. I just need to use the bathroom." He stood and walked toward the back.
Several minutes later, he returned.
"Christina, can I talk to you privately?" he asked.
I leaned back in my chair, closing my tablet. "Go ahead."
He hesitated before sitting down, then looked at like he was about to confess sothing painful.
"What’s wrong?" I noticed his red-rimd eyes and damp face, as if he’d just splashed water on it. "Have you been crying?"
"No, I..." He stared at the floor. "I’ve been keeping sothing from you."
"Then spit it out."
"The na I gave you, Daniel Williams..."
"I’m guessing that’s not your real na."
"Right. Williams is my mother’s surna."
"Okay." I waited for him to continue.
"I don’t use my father’s last na. His surna is Granger. Clive Granger. I’m his son."
What the actual fuck?
"I’m serious," he quickly added, "I know it sounds crazy, but I’m not lying. I really am his child."
My brain struggled to process this information.
I rembered the rumors.
Clive had mistresses.
Louisa had threatened divorce, but nothing ca of it.
I thought the affair had ended years ago.
Apparently not.
I looked at Daniel again. Pale skin, downturned mouth, ssy curls.
Suddenly, it clicked.
His face shape, his eyes.
I’d seen them before.
Niall.
The similarities were now glaringly obvious.
How had I missed it?
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself.
"You knew I was engaged to Niall," I said, "and you still ca to work here. Why?"
"That wasn’t my intention," he quickly said, then backtracked, "Well, it was initially. But that’s over now. I swear."
"What exactly was your original plan?" I asked.
Daniel scratched his wrist, then dropped his hands to his thighs.
"I wanted to see what kind of woman Niall liked. I hated him. I hated all of them. I didn’t even know you, but I figured if you were with him, you must be just like the rest."
"And now?"
"Now it’s different. You’ve been kind to , treated like a person. You’re nothing like that family."
I stared at him.
"You do know Niall’s preferred woman is Beatrice, right?"
Hudson’s POV
The penthouse office of Laurent Global Holdings was dimly lit, blinds drawn against the winter sky.
I sat behind my desk, hands still. Dominic finished his report in that careful tone.
I didn’t interrupt him or react, which seed to relax him.
"These need your signature," he said, sliding a folder across to .
I flipped through the docunts, reviewing, marking up, and signing efficiently while Dominic explained each file.
"Anything else?" My tone was flat, leaving no room for small talk.
I didn’t want to be here. Dominic’s call had pulled away from Christina, from the warmth of her skin and the weight of her body curled against mine, half-asleep and quiet. I could still sll her shampoo on my clothes.
I flexed my fingers before resting them on the desk again. Getting angry wouldn’t help now. Since I was already here, I might as well get things done.
Dominic hesitated.
"One more thing. We’ve found the connection between Rowan Hale and Gwendolyn Laurent. She was his sponsor."
"Explain."
"Gwendolyn funded Rowan’s education through a charity foundation, from high school through college. But there’s no record of any personal contact between them, and the money stopped after Rowan graduated. No sign they stayed in touch."
"If they’re working together, they wouldn’t leave a paper trail," I said. "Put pressure on her like I told you. If she reacts, we’ll know."
Dominic nodded. "Got it."
I gave him the details, and he left without questions.
Alone in my office, I tried to read emails on my screen, but my eyes just skimd the text without absorbing anything. Christina’s face kept popping into my mind—the way her mouth twitched when she tried not to smile, her arms wrapped tight around the blanket, her smile too brief, her eyes avoiding mine when I left.
It had taken everything I had to walk out that door.
By noon, the need to go ho was gnawing at , but I forced myself to sit through useless etings, watching the clock.
At 2:30, I finally cracked and sent a ssage: [Wake up. Eat sothing.]
No response.
I checked our conversation. Five unread ssages since morning. All from .
Was she still sleeping, or ignoring ?
I didn’t call. If she was asleep, the ring would wake her. If she wasn’t, she’d let it go to voicemail.
By four, I’d had enough.
I called Geoffrey.
"Luna Christina’s not ho," he told . "She left for the studio about an hour ago."
I hung up and stared out the window. Snowflakes drifted past the glass in lazy swirls. The sky was solid gray. Wind gusts sent the snow spiraling across the skyline.
She’d gone out wearing that outfit.
I stood, grabbing my coat. Minutes later, I was in my car heading toward Christina’s studio.
My phone buzzed.
"Alpha Hudson," Dominic said without any greeting, "you asked to look into Daniel Williams. He’s Clive Granger’s illegitimate son, Niall Granger’s half-brother."
"You’re sure?"
"Positive. He went to Wessexia. Clive Granger is listed as his father. It’s in the records. I have other docunts, but—"
"Send them. All of them." I ended the call.
"Faster," I told Gino.
The streets narrowed ahead, snow sticking to the gutters, wind whipping it against the windows.
The studio was just two blocks away.
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