Emily practically bounced through the door, her heart still racing from the call she had just received. Years of waiting, of uncertainty, of desperate prayers...finally, a great opportunity.... She was a match. Relief surged through her, spilling over into giddy laughter she couldn't hold back.

Michael was already at the house, leaning against the kitchen counter with that infuriatingly calm smile.and his phone in his hand. Without thinking, she rushed to him, threw her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his. A breathless, joy-filled kiss.

Eyes her flew open as reality sank in . Literally....because she shoved him back and actually slapped him.

Michael staggered a step, his hand instinctively brushing his cheek, shock flashing across his features.

"Emily? What was that for?" He asked confusion written all over his pretty face.

"You signed me as your guarantor?!" she snapped, her voice trembling with rage. "When you don't pay back, 'I'm' the one they'll drag down! What the hell were you thinking, Michael?"

His expression softened, the corners of his mouth curving into that disarming grin she hated to love. "Em... I'm sorry. I panicked. I knew they'd never approve me without a backup, and you..." He stepped closer, lowering his voice, "you're the only one I trust enough. I shouldn't have done it without asking, I know. Forgive me?" he asked, brushing his thumbs across my cheeks.

She glared at him, torn between slapping him again and melting into those ridiculously earnest eyes.

"I'll make it up to you," he added quickly, sensing her wavering. "Dinner. Tonight. I'll cook for you. Just us."

Emily folded her arms across her chest, scowling. "You? Cook? Last time you nearly burnt this house down ."

Michael chuckled. "This time I'll be careful. Please? Let me do this for you." he pressed his forehead against her's.

She huffed, glaring one last time before finally muttering, "Fine. But if you burn my kitchen down, you're paying for the repairs."

"Deal," he said with a boyish grin, stealing one more kiss on her cheek before heading for the door.

" Where are you going?" She asked . " Uhm... I will be right back,I have to finish up with something quickly " he said, while looking at his phone screen as he backed away towards the front door.

As soon as he left, Emily sagged against the wall, groaning. God help her, that man knew how to twist her emotions. Pushing herself upright, she marched towards her room, into her closet, throwing open the doors. If she was going to let him get away with this dinner stunt, she might as well look like sin while doing it. Her fingers brushed over silky fabrics and fitted dresses, her mind buzzing with equal parts irritation and anticipation.

---

Meanwhile, in the suffocating darkness of the prison, Lilithe's world was far less forgiving. The sharp crack of a fist against her jaw sent her sprawling to the cold concrete floor. Her cellmate, a hulking woman with dead eyes, loomed over her, fists clenched, ready to strike again.

"Thought you were tough, huh?" the woman hissed, grabbing a fistful of Lilithe's hair and yanking her head back.

Pain shot down Lilithe's spine, but she bit her tongue, refusing to give her attacker the satisfaction of hearing her scream. Blood trickled from her lip.

Just as the next blow came swinging, the heavy iron door screeched open.

"Enough!" A guard's voice cut through the chaos. The cellmate froze, breathing heavily, her grip loosening.

The guard stormed in, shoving the attacker aside and crouching beside Lilithe. Her eyes, unusually sharp for someone in this place, flicked over her bruises.

"You'll live," she muttered, her voice low enough for only her to hear. Then, softer, almost protective: "Don't give them a reason to break you." she said as she used her handkerchief to wipe the blood off the side kf her lips.

Lilithe lifted her head, in pain but unbroken. For the first time in weeks, she felt the faint flicker of something dangerous; hope.

"You!!... You're coming with me" the guard said as she dragged the cellmate out of the cell and left Lilithe on the ground.

---

The engine hummed low as Alexander leaned back against the leather seat, his knuckles drumming absently against the steering wheel. The day had been long, his mind already half-fixed on getting home.

His phone buzzed. He tapped the speaker, and the deep, clipped voice of one of his men filled the car.

"We've traced the girl. Emily. Lives in a small flat on the east side. She has a sister;prisoner as been in prison for a while ; killed her husband. Boyfriend in the picture, cheater and a leach. As a rich nonchalant father,a step mom and step sister. The family's clean enough... mostly."

Alexander's eyes narrowed. "Mostly?"

A pause, then the voice lowered, almost as if wary of being overheard.

"Her mother."

The words landed heavy in the cabin.

Alexander's grip tightened around the wheel. "What about her?"

The informant hesitated, then delivered the blow. "Her birth mother is Laura, Samuel Raults wife." The air left Alexander's lungs like a punch to the chest. He stopped the car in an instant ; stepping on the brake.For a moment, the world outside blurred, headlights stretching into meaningless streaks of light.

Samuel.

The name alone was poison. The man who had gutted his family; who had spilled the blood of his father and his little sister before vanishing into the shadows of history. For years, whispers circled: dead, alive, hiding. No proof, no body, only rumors.

And now this.

The same woman tied to Samuel... was Emily's mother.

His heart pounded in his chest, resurrecting a fire he thought long buried. A fire lit years ago, one Samuel himself had sparked with death and betrayal. His mind reeled; was this coincidence, or a thread deliberately woven back into his life?

Alexander's jaw clenched. He had spent fifteen years with no answers, chasing ghosts. And suddenly, here she was; a girl whose existence might hold the key to finding Samuel.

Emily.

Her name no longer sounded like an innocent curiosity. It felt like destiny.

And destiny, Alexander knew, was never kind.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, but was more of a warning. His grip on the wheel tighter.

Alexander's pulse still hammered against his temples as the car cut through the night. Samuel's name lingered in his mind like a curse, his thoughts clawing at the possibility that fate had just thrown him back into a nightmare he thought was buried.

He hit the intercom button on the dashboard. "I want confirmation," he ordered, his voice like steel. "Every detail about Emily's mother;where she's been, who she's seen, if she's even alive. Dig into graves if you have to. Don't bring me whispers, bring me facts."

"Yes, sir," came the swift reply through the speaker.

The line went dead, but Alexander remained motionless, his hand hovering over the wheel, fingers tight and restless.

A part of him didn't want to believe it. Couldn't.

Because if it was true;if Emily's blood really tied her to that woman, to Samuel; then the vow he made all those years ago would come roaring back to life. A vow spoken over his sister's grave, carved into his soul with every sleepless night:

If Samuel ever resurfaced, in any way, through anyone... I will finish it. I will burn everything tied to him.

The promise had been his compass, his torment, his only tether to justice when the world offered none.

And now, for the first time in fifteen years, that promise threatened to collide with the fragile happiness he was trying to piece together.

Alexander closed his eyes briefly, the image of Emily's smile flashing unbidden in the dark.

"God help me if this is true."he whispered.

****

Emily stood in front of her wardrobe, holding up two dresses against her body; one sleek and red, the other a soft silk black. She bit her lip, debating which one said sexy but not trying too hard.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. With a sigh, she tossed the dresses onto the bed and answered.

"Hello?"

"Miss Emily?" a calm male voice replied. "This is Dr. Raynold from St. Luke's Hospital. I'm afraid you left earlier without completing the blood draw for the surgery. It's very important you return tonight to finish. Without it, the process can't move forward."

Emily frowned, confusion cutting through her excitement. "Wait, I thought you told me to comeback tomorrow .Are you sure?"

"Yes," the doctor said smoothly. "It won't take long, I promise. Just a small draw, and then you're free to go. The sooner, the better."

She chewed her bottom lip, glancing at the dresses still tossed across her bed. Dinner with Michael... Now this? Her chest tightened with frustration. "Alright. I'll come back now."

"Thank you, Miss Emily. We'll be expecting you."

The call ended with a soft click. Emily tossed the phone back onto the bed, groaning as she grabbed her jacket.

*****

The hospital office was dimly lit. Dr. Raynold set the phone down slowly, the polite smile he had worn slipping from his face. He let out a shaky breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

Behind him, a shadow shifted. Sophia stepped forward, her heels clicking softly against the tile. Her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Good job," she murmured, her tone both sweet and threatening. She tapped a manicured finger against the desk. "Now, do exactly what I asked, and we won't have any problems."

Dr. Raynold swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Yes, ma'am."

Her eyes narrowed, sharp and dangerous. "And remember, no one must know about this. Not the hospital, not Alexander... no one."

She leaned in closer, her perfume filling the sterile air, her whisper colder than the fluorescent lights above. "If you slip, doctor, it won't just be your career you'll lose."

Dr. Raynold lowered his gaze, his silence trembling with fear.

Sophia straightened, satisfied, and with a final glance at the closed door, she slipped back into the shadows.

---

Emily was halfway out the door, jacket clutched in her hand, when the sound of footsteps caught her off guard. The door swung open, and there stood Michael, his arms overflowing with grocery bags. Vegetables, pasta, wine, everything he'd need to prove he wasn't bluffing about cooking tonight.

Her breath hitched. For a moment, she just stared, taken aback by the effort. Michael, who usually charmed his way out of responsibility, was actually trying.

He noticed her standing there, eyes wide, and grinned. "Surprised?"

Emily's lips curved into an involuntary smile. "More than surprised," she admitted softly. Then, guilt flickered in her chest. She tightened her grip on her jacket. "I have to go back to the hospital, but I'll explain later. Think of it as... a surprise. Okay?"

Michael raised a brow, suspicious but too charmed by her smile to argue. "Fine. But don't keep me waiting. I've got a whole dinner to impress you with."

She gave him a playful look, then slipped past him, leaving the scent of her perfume lingering in the hall.

---

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and cold air. Emily signed her name at the desk before being ushered quickly into a small room. Dr. Raynold was waiting, his tone brisk, almost urgent.

"Miss Emily, thank you for coming back. We just need a few pints of blood to start the transfusion and then you will be free to go ."

Emily nodded, trying to shake the unease curling in her stomach. She hated needles but told herself it was for a good cause. She closed her eyes as the needle pierced her arm, sucking the crimson liquid into the waiting bag.

But minutes passed. Then more minutes. Her body grew heavier, her skin clammy. A wave of dizziness hit her, and her head lolled back against the chair.

"How much longer?" she whispered, her voice faint.

Dr. Raynold avoided her gaze. "Almost done. Just a little more."

Her vision blurred. Her fingers twitched against the chair's armrest, too weak to protest. She felt herself slipping away, like the life was being siphoned out of her-because it was.

The door burst open. A nurse, younger and sharper-eyed than the rest, froze at the sight of the nearly full bags lined up beside Emily.

"Five pints?" She gasped. "Are you insane? That's too much for her size!"

Before Dr. Raynold could reply, the nurse yanked the tube out, blood dripping onto the floor. She quickly pressed cotton to Emily's arm and slid an arm around her shoulders.

"Come on," she murmured, guiding the half-conscious girl out of the room.

Emily's knees buckled, but the nurse held her steady, leading her down the corridor. They stopped by the hospital canteen, where the nurse set her down gently and pushed a tray of bread and juice toward her.

"Eat. Slowly. You need your strength back."

Emily, pale and trembling, blinked up at her savior. The bread felt like sandpaper on her tongue, but she forced it down, each bite anchoring her back to life.

For the first time today, a single, terrifying thought cut through the haze:

Something wasn't right about this.

"Are you ok?" The nurse asked, sitting beside her. " Yh, I think so. I just feel a bit dizzy that's all" Emily said while holding on to dear life. " I don't know why they are doing this especially when you are not the match they wanted" Emily's eyes grew wide in shock at the nurses statement.

" What.. what? What did you just say?" Emily asked, holding onto the nurses hands. Her eyes about to burst into years and her mind racing.

"I overheard the other nurses saying there was a match... Sophia; the child's mother. That's why I am confused,I don't know why they need more blood. I am sorry" the nurse said, as Emily squeezed both of her hands.

EMILY'S POV

'This can't be true. Why? Why? Do bad things happen to me? I thought this was fate's way of apologising for all the pain and anguish I have had to face, but no, it was just fate mocking me'. I thought to myself. I sat on the chair, not knowing whether to cry, shout or laugh. There was no point... So I just stood up and walked away.

I didn't even look at the nurse, I just left the hospital. This changes everything now. What's the point? When I can't help myself, Michael or my sister out of that hell .

What's the point of living anymore?

What's the point of living anymore?

Emily was lost in the weight of her own misery, her thoughts drowning her as she crossed the street without looking. A blaring horn snapped her too late,a truck barreling toward her,when a stranger's hand yanked her back to safety. Heart pounding, she met the eyes of the one who had just pulled her from the brink of death.

Emily staggered through the conversation with the stranger, still shaken. Her ears were still ringing from the loud horn of the trailer.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently.

"I'm fine," she muttered, though her voice trembled.

"Do you need help getting home?"

After a pause, she nodded. "Yes."

He led her to his car, and the drive passed in silence, Emily drifting deeper into her thoughts.

When they arrived in front of the house, Michael came out when he heard the sound of a car engine stopping in front of the house. He thought it was a cab and came out with roses to surprise her.

Michael's eyes darkened at the sight of another man dropping her off. Jealousy laced his voice. Emily didn't allow the strange man to say a word, she got out of the passenger seat and headed towards the house.

"Who the hell was that?" he snapped.

Emily rubbed her temples. "Michael, please. I can't do this right now."

"Don't you dare walk away from me." He stepped closer, voice low and biting. "You think I didn't see him drop you off? Some guy I've never seen before, and you're in his car? What were you doing with him, Emily?"

Her throat tightened. "I almost got hit by a trailer, Michael. He saved me. He was just helping me get home."

Michael scoffed, his laugh hollow. "Right. Just helping. That's what they all say. You expect me to believe some stranger just happened to be there, just happened to play hero?"

Emily's chest ached with a mix of anger and exhaustion. "Yes, because that's exactly what happened. But you don't care, do you? You're too busy inventing reasons to paint me as unfaithful."

His jaw clenched. "If you respected me, you wouldn't get into another man's car in the first place."

She stared at him, stunned. "Respected you? I almost died, Michael. I've given you nothing but loyalty all these years, and instead of asking if I'm okay, you accuse me? You're being ridiculous."

Her voice broke, but she didn't stop. "The least you could've done was thank the man who pulled me out of the street. Instead, you make me feel like the villain."

Michael said nothing, his silence heavy, his eyes burning with mistrust. Emily turned away, shaking her head. "I can't do this tonight."

She walked off into her room and banged the door behind her, leaving him seething. Alone in the quiet, she let out a long sigh

..then realized she hadn't even thanked the stranger who'd saved her.

---

Sophia's voice trembled with urgency as she faced Dr. Raynold.

"Informl Alexander about the match...now. And I want the transfusion to begin immediately," she ordered, her eyes glistening. "No more delays. I want my family together, all of us... no matter what it takes."

Dr. Raynold hesitated, studying her expression, then gave a grave nod before moving swiftly to carry out her wishes. He ordered his nurses to prepare the theatre for Amara's surgery.

Dr. Raynold dialed Alexander's line and waited for him to pick up. After the third dial he finally answered.

"Dr? " Alexander said from the other end of the line. "Good day Mr. Morreti, I have great news. We found a match for Amara and we are about to begin the surgery. I just wanted to confirm with you if we could carry on?" Dr. Raynold asked,staring at Sophia as she smirked at him viciously.

"what are you waiting for, start immediately. I will be there as soon as I can" Alexander ordered before ending the call.

" You heard my man, get to work" Sophia said, smiling cheapishly.

---

Three hours slipped by before the doors finally opened. Amara's surgery was over-she was stable, breathing, safe. Relief washed through Alexander as he rushed to her room, only to pause at the doorway.

Sophia was already there, seated beside Amara's bed, her hand clasping her daughter's. The air between them was heavy, layered with something unspoken.

Alexander frowned and turned to Dr. Raynold. "Who was the match?"

The doctor shifted uneasily, his eyes darting toward Sophia. His lips parted as if to speak, but the weight of the truth anchored him.

Sophia's grip on Amara's hand tightened. She lifted her gaze slowly, meeting Alexander's eyes.

Alexander's voice was steady but edged with impatience. "Doctor, who was the match?"

Dr. Raynold shifted, eyes flicking nervously toward Sophia before answering. "It was Madam... Sophia. She was the match. The transfusion went smoothly and Amara is out of danger."

Relief hit Alexander like a wave. He exhaled sharply, the tension draining from his shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured, then turned to Sophia. His voice softened. "Thank you, Sophia. You saved her."

Sophia's lips curved in a faint smile. "She's my daughter, Alexander. I'd do anything for her... and for you." she smiled.

He blinked, caught off guard by the warmth in her tone. "Still, I owe you everything. If it wasn't for you-"

She stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm. "You don't owe me anything, my love. You are both my world and I would do anything for the both of you," she whispered. Before he could respond, Sophia leaned in, pressing her lips softly, insistently, against his.

Alexander froze, his gratitude colliding with shock, the lines between family and something far more dangerous beginning to blur.

---

Sophia's lips pressed against his, lingering, her hand sliding up his arm. For a heartbeat, Alexander didn't move, too stunned to react. Then anger surged through him as he remembered her infedility and he started to pull back.

But before he could say a word, a soft murmur broke the tension.

"... Mommy?"

Both their heads snapped toward the bed. Amara's eyelids fluttered, her fingers twitching against the sheets as she slowly regained consciousness.

Alexander immediately stepped away from Sophia, his focus snapping back where it belonged. He rushed to Amara's side, gripping her hand gently. "Amara, it's me. You're safe now. Everything's going to be alright."

Sophia stood a step behind him, her hands on his shoulder, her expression unreadable, half relief for her daughter, half something far more complicated after the kiss Alexander had just stopped.

Alexander turned to Dr. Raynold, his hand still holding Amara's. "I want to take her home. She'll recover better surrounded by family." he said, before laying a soft kiss on both her hands.

The doctor hesitated. "She's stable, yes... but it's still early." he said, trying to make a point.

"I'll make sure she gets everything she needs," Alexander said firmly. "She'll heal faster at home."

Before the doctor could argue, Sophia spoke up, her tone gentle yet unwavering. "I agree with Alexander. Amara needs more than medical care right now...she needs love. Both her father's... and her mother's."

Alexander glanced at her, his jaw tightening ever so slightly, but he didn't object. His eyes softened as he looked back at Amara. "I'll take you home, sweetheart. You will be back in your bed in no time with all of your stuffed animals and lots of chocolates."

Amara, still weak, managed the faintest smile, her gaze flickering between her parents. For the first time in weeks, she felt safe.

Behind that picture of family unity, Sophia's eyes lingered on Alexander just a little too long, her support carrying more weight than words revealed.

Her plan was going into motion

---

Alexander leaned over Amara's bed, his voice soft but steady. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you home." With careful strength, he lifted her in his arms, cradling her in a bridal style as if she were made of glass. Amara rested her head against his chest, comforted by his warmth.

Turning to Sophia, he said firmly, "I'll take her to the car. Finish up with the paperwork." he ordered her like she was one of his men, not even throwing a glance her way.

Sophia gave a dutiful nod, her face calm. "Of course. Go on, I will be right behind you." she said, ignoring is firm tone.

Alexander carried Amara out, his steps steady, the sound of his departure echoing down the corridor.

The moment the door shut behind him, Sophia's smile faded, replaced by a cold edge in her eyes. She leaned closer to Dr. Raynold, her voice low and sharp.

"Good job doctor, if you keep this up you might have a role in my next movie. Remember, no one must know about what really happened. If so, I promise you I will personally bury you six feet under ground and no one will find your body. You will be hearing from my men...take it as precaution, cause if I loose Alex , you lose your life. Goodbye doctor, I hope we never have to see again"

She straightened, her mask of composure sliding back into place. With a final icy glance at the doctor, she collected her purse and walked out, leaving only the sting of her threat lingering in the air.

---

Later that night, Alexander lingered at Amara's bedside. Her chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, her face soft with the innocence of sleep. Relief warmed him,his little girl was safe, and that was all that mattered.

He kissed her forehead gently and tucked her in well; carrying the blanket up and placing it underneath her jaw. "Sleep well, princess," he whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face before quietly stepping out.

Exhaustion pulled at him as he pushed open his bedroom door. But the sight waiting inside drained the air from his lungs.

Sophia stood there in the dim light, completely naked, her body illuminated by the faint glow slipping through the curtains. Her eyes locked onto his, daring, taunting.

Alexander's chest tightened, fury rising hot in his veins. He hated her, hated her name, the relationship he shared with her, the way she twisted everything.

And yet... he was still a man. And once, long ago, she had been the love of his life. That dangerous familiarity still lingered, pulling at him in ways he despised.

His fists clenched at his sides, his breath uneven. He should throw her out. He should curse her name.

Instead, his lips crashed against hers in a fierce, desperate kiss, the clash of hate and desire igniting like fire between them.

He carried her; she straddling him as her flesh hit his crutch. He kissed her passionately as though he was searching for something,anything.

He threw her on the bed, took of his shirt and pounced on. Pathing her legs, be thrusted two fingers into pussy, and watched as her chest rose and fell at every thrust. Her eyes closing, her hands squeezing yhe duvet at each sides.

She moaned his name, reaching for him to kiss her but he refused. He just layed their starting at her with so much disgust, at that moment she was about to have an orgasm... he slipped his fingers out leaving her in shock, stunned and disarray.

He got off the bed, wiped his fingers with the wipes that was onto of the drawer. "What the hell Alex!" she yelled, her breathing still finding its pace.

"what? Isn't that what you wanted. Do you really think I am that stupid. You slept with my cousin just to get a role. Was this how you seduced him? Waited in his room stacked naked and pounced on him. Tell me... how desperate can you be. You think just because you fullfilled your motherly duties for the first time in your godforsaken life, it would be that easy for you to win me over and think you can climb into my bed. You are even more pathetic than I thought you were. I want you to listen and listen well, no matter what you do,I Will never ever ever see you the same way. You disgust me and you will forever be that lying cheating slut I had the misfortune of having an amazing daughter with." He said, making sure every word hit and sank in .

He walked towards the door, opening it wide.

" Now, get the hell out of my room" he lashed out.