–Laura–
After my checkup with Dr. Greene, my husband—who was holding my purse like it was the most natural thing in the world—guided toward the elevator. His hand rested firmly at the small of my back, protective and possessive at the sa ti.
Before we left the clinic, he insisted I wear a face mask.
So I did.
I held his hand while he double-checked that my sanitizer spray was clipped to my handbag like a lucky charm.
When the elevator doors opened, he imdiately sprayed my hands. Only then did we walk toward the parking lot. He sanitized his own hands again, opened the passenger door, and waited.
I climbed into the seat while he walked around to the driver’s side.
He slid into the car smoothly, started the engine, then turned to with that familiar grin.
"Alright."
I rolled my eyes.
This man.
How did he manage to put another set of twins in my stomach?
"This is the last, Damien," I warned, glaring at him.
He sighed dramatically and reached to the back seat, pulling a paper bag forward and placing it gently on my lap.
"If you think a purse will make forgive you," I muttered, "that’s not going to happen."
Still... I opened it.
The mont my fingers brushed the box—the rare color, the soft dust bag—my eyes widened.
Damien calmly pressed the gas and eased the car out of the parking lot.
"Okay," I said slowly. "I forgive you... and your penis."
He burst out laughing.
"I have a magic penis," he joked. "It can make another set of twins."
I rolled my eyes again, but I couldn’t stop smiling.
The bag was rare.
Very rare.
I was definitely wearing it to the office tomorrow.
We arrived at our penthouse near the office district. The twins were staying at my sister and her husband’s mansion, two hours outside the city—far more space for them to run around.
When we entered the penthouse, Damien let walk in first while he carried the shopping bags we’d picked up on the way.
"I’m making..." I pouted, holding the new bag protectively. "I don’t know what I’m craving for."
"Okay," he said easily, already heading toward the kitchen. "Think about it, baby."
I followed him.
"I was thinking we should have noodles! Instant noodles!" I clapped my hands excitedly.
He froze.
"We don’t have that here."
I pouted again, thinking.
"Then can you make adobo?" I asked hopefully. "With rice, of course."
His eyes lit up imdiately.
"Yeah, of course, baby."
He moved to the rice cooker first.
"But we’ll have brown rice, okay?"
I happily left him to it and headed to the bedroom.
I placed my new purse on the display shelves. The room was temperature-controlled—cool and dry—perfect for keeping the leather bags safe.
I opened the blue Hermès box, lifted the new beauty carefully, and set it among the others.
Most of them were gifts—from my sister and my husband.
A few were part of my mother’s original collection. Livana and I had divided them between us so we could both protect and treasure them.
I reached for my phone and called my twins.
Zayvier answered imdiately—his tablet always nearby.
"Mommy!" he shouted happily. "Where are you, Mommy?"
"I’m at the penthouse, my love."
"Woah! We go there too, Mommy!"
"Sure, baby," I said softly. "But you won’t be able to play here like you do at the mansion. There’s no big garden... only the sky."
"Okay... I miss you."
My heart lted.
My sweet boy was always so considerate.
He definitely got that from his father.
"I miss you too, my love. Daddy and I will be ho tomorrow."
"Okay! I love you!"
"I love you more, my Zayvier."
"Bye-bye, Mommy! Chef is here—more foodie!"
I giggled.
"Okay, I love you."
The call ended.
I returned to the kitchen with my laptop so I could work while watching my husband cook.
"You know, my love," I said, tilting my head as I leaned on the counter, my cheek resting in my palm. "You look very sexy topless with only an apron."
He paused mid-chop.
Slowly, he set the knife down.
Without a word, he removed the apron... then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it at .
I caught it, grinning.
Then he calmly tied the apron back on.
"Are you satisfied with your cravings, my love?"
I slowly licked my lower lip.
"Very satisfied, husband."
We both froze when the doorbell rang.
"I’ll get it," I said.
"Don’t open it, okay," Damien replied instantly.
I walked to the door and checked the cara.
A man stood outside wearing a cap and holding a box.
"What is it?" I asked through the microphone.
"Delivery for Laura Carrington?"
"Please leave it by the door."
"You need to sign sothing, ma’am."
I frowned.
That didn’t make sense.
Deliveries weren’t allowed up here. Everything went through the lobby first.
I turned.
Damien was standing behind now.
Gun in hand.
"Couriers are not allowed here," he said coldly.
A chill ran down my spine.
Outside, the man quietly set the box down... then walked away.
The penthouse elevator couldn’t be accessed without clearance.
Damien imdiately called the front desk. They were already apologizing—they had just realized soone had hacked the elevator access.
Damien ended the call, jaw tight.
"We can’t bring the kids here," he muttered.
*****
–Livana–
I sent the security team and the penthouse caretaker out the mont the report ca in. They took the box and brought it to an open ground—just in case it was a bomb. A robot carefully cut it open while I watched through the monitors.
From inside, it retrieved an envelope.
Caine, who was also living in the sa penthouse, ca down to inspect it. He opened the envelope, took photographs of its contents, and sent them to us.
My eyes widened.
A threat.
A threat directed at my sister.
Now that they believed I was dead, they had begun sending their warnings to her. They assud she was the one operating our Empire now. But she didn’t know everything. She might know fragnts, pieces here and there—but there was no concrete proof that she was the one running it.
Caine picked up the letter and left.
I followed his movents through the building’s caras as he made his way to Damien’s penthouse. I switched the feed to the room where they were gathered.
At the dining table, a al already prepared before her, Deanne sat quietly, waiting.
My chest tightened.
I wanted to go there imdiately. I wanted to hide my sister sowhere no one could reach her.
But she was the Chairman of the company our mother built. That position did not allow weakness, nor the luxury of hiding.
I looked over at the twins, who were still playing house with Sky. All of them were dressed in their little costus.
Sky, of course, was wearing a knight’s outfit. Our Zendaya was a princess. And Zayvier had chosen to be a pirate, complete with an eyepatch.
"Mama," Sky approached . "Call Andro. Pleeaase."
I tilted my head slightly.
"Baby, Andro can’t co here every ti."
He pouted.
"I’ll find a way to give him another invitation, okay?"
I kissed the top of his head, and he returned to his ga.
Then my gaze drifted to the new phone Damon had given .
I stared at it for a mont.
Now, I think... I need to call Tyrona.
*****
–Tyrona–
I received word that the threats had already been delivered to Laura.
But I know better.
They aren’t truly targeting her. Laura is only bait—an exposed nerve ant to provoke a reaction. They’re waiting for the real queen of that empire to step forward.
Livana.
How long will she keep hiding? Even the Elders suspect she might still be alive.
She had a laboratory. No one ever knew what was inside it. But from what I heard from Kenzo—the supposed heir of a Japanese Yakuza family—Livana had been cultivating sothing tied to her inheritance. Sothing... important.
And that thought kept circling in my mind like a vulture.
Maybe Livana found a way to fake her death.
"Mommy..."
Andro’s small voice pulled back.
For the past few days, he had been unusually quiet. He didn’t want to play alone anymore. I bought him new toys, took him shopping, even tried distracting him with trips to the mall—but the closest place we stayed was still the villa near that private land filled with mansions.
"I miss Sky, Zay-Zay, and Zendy," he whimpered, his face crumpling before he threw his arms around .
I sighed softly and stroked his hair, breathing in the faint scent of his shampoo.
Then I looked at the nanny.
"Pack his clothes," I said calmly. "We’re moving to the villa."
I stood and kissed Andro’s head. At least there, Damon’s estate would only be a thirty-minute drive away.
"Go pack your favorite toys," I told him.
We both headed upstairs—he to his room, while I went to mine. I pulled out my suitcase and began packing efficiently: clothes, toiletries, a few select gadgets. Everything I might need.
It didn’t take long before I heard him calling.
"Mama!"
He appeared at the doorway, proudly dragging his little stroller bag behind him.
I exhaled slowly.
For Andro, I can swallow my pride.
The driver dropped us off at the villa first. The mont we stepped inside, my phone rang. An unknown number.
I answered without hesitation.
"Hello?"
"Is this Tyrona?"
A woman’s voice—bright, unfamiliar.
"Yes."
"Hi! This is Sky’s step-mom." Her tone was cheerful, almost playful. There was no way that voice belonged to Livana. "Is it okay if Andro can co play with the kids? Sky kind of misses him."
"Sky! Sky!" Andro suddenly shouted from beside .
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
"Hm. If you’re Sky’s stepmother... what’s your na?"
She giggled lightly.
"It’s Livy Blackwell now. Damon and I got married a few days ago. I heard you’re his ex-fiancée."
I pressed my lips together. Whoever this woman was, she had no idea whose territory she had stepped into.
"I see," I said slowly. "Do you happen to share the sa na as his ex-wife?"
"Almost," she sighed dramatically. "But I think Damon only married so soone could take care of his son. Anyway, his son is so adorable. And your son, Andro... he looks like soone I know. I think he’s xican—or Latino."
My eyes widened slightly.
How observant.
"Anyway," she continued breezily, "just give your address. I’ll send soone to pick Andro up."
"I’ll send it to you," I replied smoothly.
"Okay, great. Laters."
And then the call ended.
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