Stanley sat in his office late into the night, the warm glow of the desk lamp casting shadows on his clean-cut features. A neat stack of files lay unopened in front of him, untouched for over an hour. He couldn’t focus. Not on business. Not on quarterly reports.
Only on her.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly as he rembered again that night outside Rhina’s apartnt.
The voice.
Firm. Threatening. A man’s voice.
She’d said it was no one. But Stanley Shepherd didn’t let things go without digging.
He tapped a few keys on his laptop, opening a secure program. If there was anything odd in her background, any aliases, red flags, anything... he’d find it. Not because he didn’t want to trust her
But because he wanted to be wrong.
She was pregnant. She was warm. She was kind. And Mara trusted her now. That ant sothing.
But the Shepherd family had enemies—and if soone was using Rhina to get close to them...
He typed faster.
"Rhina Alvarez. The apartnt registered under her na. No previous rental history in the city. No credit trail before two years ago."
Stanley frowned.
Two years?
No job records. No schooling. Nothing before that. As if she just appeared.
That wasn’t just odd it was intentional.
He opened the surveillance app connected to his building’s lobby and scrolled back to last week.
She’d co in once with her phone pressed to her ear, pale and shaken. She hadn’t seen the cara catch her whisper:
"I said I’ll do it. But don’t hurt them."
Stanley froze.
That wasn’t about her. That was a warning.
He rose from his chair, pacing.
This wasn’t paranoia. This was real.
Who the hell was Rhina? They had just t causally on one of his business trip, she didn’t ask question they just had good ti and when he leaves she never really called until recently she started demanding to et his family and now pregnant.
And what exactly did she plan to do? His phone buzzed.
Text from Rhina:
"Can we talk tomorrow? I miss you."
He stared at the screen for a long mont before replying:
"Of course. Let’s talk."
He wouldn’t accuse her yet. Not until he knew the truth.
But one thing was certain now
Soone was playing a long ga.
And Stanley had just joined the board. Stanley didn’t like asking for help. Especially not when it ca to matters of the heart. But this wasn’t just about love anymore.
It was about the family. And when the Shepherd brothers protected sothing or soone they didn’t miss.
Steve leaned back in the armchair, his tie loosened and a cup of bourbon in hand. Stefan stood near the window, arms crossed, sharp eyes on Stanley.
"Let get this straight," Steve said slowly. "The woman you’ve been seeing, the one carrying your maybe-child, has no past?"
Stanley nodded. "No digital trail before two years ago. No photos. No dical records. Even her job is through a temp agency with vague references. And that voice I heard in her apartnt?"
Steve’s expression darkened. "Sounds like soone created a whole new identity. That’s not amateur work."
Stefan spoke then, voice calm but cold. "This wouldn’t be the first ti soone tried to use personal relationships to get inside our circle."
He looked at Stanley. "You think she’s working for soone?"
"I know it," Stanley said quietly. "I just don’t know who. Not yet."
Stanford swirled his glass. "Could be corporate espionage. Could be political. Could be... Philip."
Stanley’s jaw clenched.
"I thought about that."
A beat of silence. Heavy.
Stefan turned from the window. "Then we treat this like any threat. Quietly. Carefully. No confrontation. No tipping her off."
Steve smirked. "Finally. Sothing more interesting than divorce cases and contract law."
Stanley allowed a ghost of a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
"I need you both. Steve, I want you to dig into her alias see if you can trace any shell identities, fake records, anything connecting to Philip. Stefan, check for prison phone records. If she’s talking to him, there’ll be so trace."
Stefan nodded. "Done."
Steve lifted his glass in mock salute. "Operation Baby Bump begins."
Stanley shot him a look, but didn’t argue. Because this wasn’t a joke. If Rhina was playing them... If Philip was behind this...
They had to end it before Mara or any of them got hurt.
—
Rhina’s Apartnt – Midnight
The silence in her apartnt wasn’t peaceful it was loud. Every creak, every buzz of the streetlamp outside made her heart race. Rhina sat curled on the edge of the couch, her phone resting face-down on the table, a glass of untouched water in her hand.
Sothing had changed.
Stanley had been distant during their last conversation. Stefan had smiled at her like he already knew sothing. Steve he didn’t even try to mask the suspicion in his eyes.
They were closing in.
She could feel it.
Her stomach twisted not just from fear, but guilt.
She thought about Mara’s laugh earlier that week. The way she had opened her heart and said, "I’m glad Stanley has soone who makes him smile again."
She didn’t deserve that warmth.
She had only wanted freedom. She hadn’t planned to stay long. She certainly hadn’t planned to care.
But now?
She was carrying a child.
And her heart was breaking under the weight of lies.
Her phone buzzed.
Philip. "We have a problem. One of my old accounts got flagged. They’re snooping."
She didn’t respond. He sent another: "If they confront you, you flip the narrative. Say Stanley’s obsessed. Say they’re paranoid. Cry if you have to."
Her hands shook. She turned off her phone and stood, pacing the room. Panic rising. Her eyes welled up. She whispered to the room, as if the baby inside could hear her: "I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this."
Then a knock.
Soft. Rhythmic.
She froze.
She peeked through the peephole.
It was Stanley.
And he was alone.
Her breath caught. Did he know? Was this it?
She wiped her face, pulled herself together, and opened the door with a practiced smile.
"Stanley... I wasn’t expecting—"
He cut her off gently. "Can we talk?"
His voice wasn’t cold. But it wasn’t warm either.
She stepped aside.
He walked in.
And she knew...
Stanley stood by the window, hands in his pockets, eyes flicking between the dim city lights and the woman he had once dread of building a life with.
Rhina closed the door behind him. She didn’t move to sit. She didn’t smile.
She knew this wasn’t just a visit.
He turned slowly, studying her. "You’ve been nervous lately. Flinching at questions. Avoiding eye contact." Rhina folded her arms across her chest, her voice low. "I’ve just... had a lot on my mind." He stepped closer, asured.
"That man’s voice I heard in your apartnt. It wasn’t a randon guy lost, was it?"
She hesitated. He didn’t need her to answer.
"Steve found sothing. Money traced back to a dormant shell company under Philip’s na. It landed in your account, Rhina. Fifteen thousand dollars. Four months ago."
Her face paled. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Tears threatened, but she blinked them back.
"It wasn’t what it looks like," she whispered.
"Then tell what it is," Stanley said, voice calm—but a storm churned in his eyes. "Tell what I’ve been sharing my life with." Rhina shook her head, voice cracking.
"I didn’t co here to hurt you. I swear. Philip... he found years ago when I was in trouble. I owed him. He said if I helped him get close to you all, he’d let go. I didn’t know what he ant at first... and then I t you."
"You an you didn’t know he was my uncle and when you did know you kept going," Stanley replied, pain thick in his tone. "You looked Stef in the eyes. You touched my hand and smiled at like I was your future—and the whole ti, you were his plan."
She stepped forward, desperate now. "No, Stanley, please. I fell for you. That was real. Everything after—every laugh, every touch—I never planned it. I tried to pull away but I couldn’t. You—this family—you gave sothing I didn’t think I’d ever have."
His jaw clenched. He looked away. "And what were you supposed to do next, Rhina? What’s the ’next instruction’ Philip sent you yesterday?"
She flinched. That was the final blow. She whispered, voice breaking, "He wants to plant sothing. In your office." Stanley closed his eyes briefly, then nodded.
"Thank you... for finally being honest." Rhina stepped toward him, a hand on her belly. "I’m sorry, Stanley. I’ll turn myself in. I’ll tell Stef. I’ll do whatever it takes just don’t hate ."
He looked at her. Long. Heavy.
"I don’t hate you, Rhina. But I don’t trust you. And in this family... trust is everything." He walked to the door and opened it.
"Don’t go anywhere. We’re not done." And with that, he left. Leaving Rhina behind, trembling, broken...
And wondering if she’d already lost the one thing she never ant to find real love.
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