Chapter five

“Daniel, we need to talk.”

I said it with more confidence than I felt, but I didn’t give myself room to hesitate. My voice cut through the room like a blade, halting both men mid-glare.

Daniel turned to me, brows furrowed. He hadn’t expected that—not from me.

Kent opened his mouth, but I lifted a hand before he could speak.

“I said I’ll talk to him,” I repeated, quieter now, but firmer. I turned to Daniel. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Daniel hesitated. Then, without a word, he nodded and moved toward the door. I followed, feeling Kent’s stare burn into my back as we stepped outside.

The air was cooler than I expected, sharp against my skin like it knew what I was about to do. We walked past the cars parked in the circular drive, down the winding stone path that led toward the edge of the estate. There was just enough space between us to make me feel like a stranger.

We didn’t speak for a full minute. Maybe more. I waited until we were far enough from the house—far enough from Kent.

Then I stopped. “Daniel…”

He turned to me, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His posture was defensive, angry, but his eyes—they held something else.

“Talk,” he said. “I’m listening.”

I swallowed hard. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

“I left for a reason,” I said, my voice low. “And it wasn’t because I stopped caring. You have to believe that.”

“You disappeared,” he said, his voice raw. “No calls. No messages. You ghosted me like I was nothing.”

“I was scared,” I admitted. “Everything happened so fast. And your father—”

He laughed, short and bitter. “Right. *Of course* this is about him.”

“I didn’t come back to mess with your life,” I said. “But things… got complicated. He found me. He offered me help when I had no one else.”

“And you just said yes? You just let him pull you back into his world like nothing happened?”

“I didn’t want to,” I said. “But I had no choice.”

Daniel stared at me for a long moment. “You think I don’t know what he is? You think I don’t know how he manipulates people?”

I shook my head. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then tell me.”

I opened my mouth—and stopped. The truth sat on the tip of my tongue, but it wasn’t time. Not yet.

“I can’t,” I whispered.

His expression hardened. “Then why are we even having this conversation?”

“Because you deserve to hear it from me. And because I never stopped caring.”

Daniel’s jaw flexed, like he was trying not to react. “He’s always taken what he wants. But I never thought he’d take *you*.”

“I’m not some trophy he won, Daniel.”

“Then what are you doing in his house?”

I didn’t answer.

We stood in silence, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down like a stormcloud. And then Daniel did something I didn’t expect.

He looked away.

“I don’t hate you,” he said, voice rough. “But I don’t think I can ever look at you the same.”

My heart cracked open.

Before I could respond, we both heard it—the sound of someone approaching.

Footsteps. Confident. Cold.

And then she appeared.

Tall. Blond. Smiling like the villain in a movie she already knew the ending to.

“Am I interrupting?”

Daniel turned, confused. I knew immediately who she was. The face. The aura. The smug confidence.

“Serena,” I said under my breath.

She grinned, flawless and venomous. “Oh good, you do remember me.”

Daniel looked between us. “You two know each other?”

She laughed. “You could say that. I’m the woman your father was going to marry before she showed up and ruined everything.”

She turned back to me, eyes gleaming. “Still playing the innocent? Still pretending you’re not the reason Kent broke off the engagement?”

“I didn’t ask him to do that.”

“No, darling,” she said sweetly. “But you never had to ask, did you?”

Daniel looked stunned.

Serena leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You always knew how to wrap him around your finger. A stray little pet he decided to keep.”

“Enough,” I said sharply.

Her smile widened. “Oh, I haven’t even started.”

Daniel shook his head, clearly trying to make sense of it all.

Serena turned to him. “Don’t let her fool you, Daniel. She’s not some victim. She’s just very good at playing one.”

I stepped forward. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, but I do,” she said. “And I’m going to enjoy watching this little fantasy crash and burn.”

She walked away like she owned the ground beneath her feet.

Daniel didn’t speak. He just stared at me. Like he was seeing something new and not sure if he liked it.

And for the first time since I’d come back, I wasn’t sure either.

His jaw was locked, his hands curled into fists at his sides. I reached out instinctively, not even sure what I meant to touch his arm, stop him, explain something I hadn’t yet figured out how to say.

But he stepped back.

The look in his eyes hurt more than any insult Serena would have thrown. Disappointment. Confusion. Something that looked dangerously close to betrayal.

Then he turned and walked away.

I stood there frozen, watching the man I’d once loved, the boy who had made me believe in second chances—stride off without looking back.

I didn’t call after him.

I couldn’t.

I stood there for what felt like hours, trying to breathe around the ache in my chest. Serena's smug expression echoed in my head like poison.

Then my phone rang.

The shrill tone cut through the silence and made me jump. I fumbled to pull it from my coat pocket, and when I saw the name on the screen, my heart dropped.

Nanny Gwen.

A thousand fears exploded at once. I answered it in a rush.

“Gwen? What’s wrong?”

“Miss Faye,” she said, voice breathless and panicked. “It’s Lucas—he has a fever. It came out of nowhere. He’s burning up and crying non stop. I think… I think you need to come now.”

I didn’t even answer. I was already moving.

My heart was thundering in my ears as I ran back toward the house. I didn’t care who I passed—didn’t care if Kent or Serena or the entire world was watching.

I just needed to get to my son.

Kent met me at the door. He must’ve heard me approaching because he stepped into the foyer just as I burst through the entryway, my breath coming fast.

“Faye?” His brows knit in concern.

“I have to go,” I said, brushing past him.

He caught my arm. “What happened?”

I hesitated for a split second. This wasn’t the time to explain, but I couldn’t just leave him in the dark. Not completely.

“Lucas has a fever. High one. Gwen says he’s not stopping crying.”

Something shifted in Kent’s expression—fast. From concern to something colder. Sharper. Protective.

“I’ll drive.”

“I don’t need—”

“Faye.” His tone silenced the protest on my lips. “Get in the car.”

I didn’t argue again.

Within minutes, we were speeding through the city. I sat in the passenger seat, twisting my hands in my lap. My phone was clenched tight in one fist, waiting for Gwen to call again—praying she wouldn’t.

Kent didn’t speak much, but I could feel the tension radiating from him. Every time we hit a red light, he looked ready to tear the car in half.

He pulled up to the apartment building in record time. I jumped out before the car had fully stopped, sprinting inside, not waiting for the elevator. I took the stairs two at a time, chest burning, lungs tight.

When I reached the door, it was already open.

Gwen stood there, pale and flustered. “He’s in the bedroom.”

I didn’t wait. I rushed inside, and there he was—my sweet boy, curled up in bed, cheeks flushed red, tiny body trembling beneath the blanket.

“Lucas,” I whispered, kneeling beside him.

His eyes fluttered open. Glassy. Tired. But he saw me—and whimpered.

I held him close, kissing his forehead. He was burning up.

“I’m here, baby,” I whispered. “Mommy’s here.”

Kent stood at the doorway, watching silently. His presence was heavy—concern cloaked in control. He didn’t move closer. Just... watched. Like the weight of his secrets had just doubled.

I didn’t care. Not right now.

Lucas came first.

I pressed my lips to his forehead again, feeling how hot he was, how fast his tiny heart was racing.

“We need to get him to the hospital,” I said without looking back.

Kent didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”

He was already pulling out his phone, calling ahead, making arrangements. Of course he had connections—Kent Romano didn’t wait in emergency rooms.

Within ten minutes, we were back in the car, Lucas in my arms, wrapped in a blanket. Gwen stayed behind, worried but knowing better than to argue.

Kent drove like a man with a mission like someone who would tear the city apart if it meant making sure our son was safe.

Our son.

I didn’t let the words surface. Not yet.

But they sat there. Waiting.

Burning.