The Greene family dinner was a grand event—a perfect opportunity for attendees to widen their commercial networks. At this gathering, Cameron Carlson was undeniably the star of the show, surrounded by people eager to strike a business deal. He navigated the crowd smoothly, confidently keeping an arm around Lyla Greene’s waist.

All of a sudden, a woman appeared at Cameron's side, taking everyone by surprise. The attendees watched the striking couple as though afraid to miss something extraordinary. All eyes were on Lyla, captivated not only by her connection to Cameron but also by her own stunning beauty. Speculation about her identity buzzed through the room.

Cameron rarely made appearances at public events, and when he did, it was never with a woman on his arm. It was known that his relationships never lasted more than a few days. Lyla felt the weight of the crowd’s stares, uncomfortable and tense, while Cameron remained at ease, casually introducing her to others.

"Mr. Carlson, who might this be?" came the bold question from Don Williams, a thin man and well-known gossip, owner of a prestigious media company. He started as a tabloid journalist, notorious for digging up celebrity secrets, and his skills were as sharp as ever.

"Can't you tell? She's my wife!" Cameron announced, showing off the ring he had recently placed on Lyla's finger.

A stunned silence fell over the room, quickly turning into a buzz of excited chatter. No one had expected Cameron to announce his marriage so suddenly. The ring on Lyla's finger was the most exquisite in the Pure Wings collection—a 25-carat gem called The Wanderer, known for its flawless oval shape and pristine clarity. Its purchase had made headlines when Cameron paid a fortune for it at auction.

"Mr. Carlson married—when did this happen?" Don, ever the opportunist, pressed for more, sensing a scoop.

Cameron raised an eyebrow at Don, then chuckled, "That's not your business, Don. I'd like to keep our private life private. Today’s a special day, and announcing our relationship to the world also makes things clear for the Greene family."

Don’s curiosity spiked further when he glanced at Lyla and gasped. A year prior, he had covered a shocking wedding in Haven City—it was impossible not to recognize the woman now beside Cameron as Lyla Greene. "Mrs. Carlson, you…”

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us for the joint celebration by the Greene and Thompson families. Today also marks the hundredth day of Master Thompson’s son, Alexander Thompson. Your presence is an honor! Please enjoy your time, and forgive any lapses in hospitality. Our young mistress has a few words to share; please lend her your attention," the Greene family’s butler announced, interrupting Don’s inquiry.

As the butler stepped aside, a woman with exquisite makeup took the stage, ready to express her gratitude. But upon spotting someone in the crowd, her smile froze. Her graceful fingers trembled, and her eyes narrowed threateningly.

Lyla saw Emerie Adams on stage, her expression as if she had swallowed a bitter pill. The sight was both ironic and distasteful, prompting Lyla to turn away with disdain. Emerie’s eyes scanned the crowd, finally landing on Lyla with visible shock. This woman? Hadn’t she been in a car accident long ago?

Emerie's composure cracked as she gripped the microphone tighter, her perfectly made-up eyes darkening with stormy emotions. She recognized the woman in the spotlight instantly. Lyla Greene, you’ve outdone yourself!

Practically escorted offstage by the butler, Emerie's façade slipped when in private. She hurried to a secluded corner, dialing a number with trembling hands, her eyes blazing with fury.

“Tell me the truth—did you kill her or not, you worthless fool? Spill it!” Her glossy lips, an innocent shade of pink, spewed words laced with unrestrained rage.

“You should have warned me. She’s back! What do we do now? I didn’t go to such lengths to eliminate her only for you to fail. You still think you can blackmail me over the child’s identity? Think again!” She slammed the phone down, her face a mask of fury. Lyla Greene, why won’t you die! How is it she always seems to have endless luck, with remarkable men drawn to her from childhood to the present? I painstakingly sabotaged her wedding, stole her childhood sweetheart, and yet, she still manages to captivate the world’s most exceptional man?

Emerie leaned against the balcony rail in defeat, her eyes fixed on the woman embraced by the seemingly untouchable man. Her fists clenched with frustration.

Lyla stayed beside Cameron, her gaze distractedly scanning the crowd. She wanted to pay respects to her father, Chaim Greene, but with Cameron’s watchful presence, slipping away unnoticed was impossible.

"Before you see your father, meet your lovely stepmother, my Cinderella," Cameron whispered, feeling Lyla's restless energy. He tightened his grip on her waist and led her toward the staircase.

“Changed your mind?” Nora James inquired from the backseat, observing Cameron’s furrowed brow in the rearview mirror. Her anger flared again.

“No! Lennox is on his way to bring her to you,” Cameron replied, his gaze fixed on the distraught woman, the sight piercing his heart.

“Will she be there when he arrives? Cameron, if you're truly unwilling, I won’t force you. I've lost an eye; who can I blame?” Nora longed to shove Lyla off the bridge herself but restrained her wrath, knowing Cameron would eventually comply, even if it took time.

“I get it.” Nora’s words only deepened Cameron’s resolve. He started the car, driving toward Lyla with a screech.

Suddenly, a deafening screech pierced the air as Cameron halted inches from Lyla. He jumped out, gathering the distraught woman in his arms, cradling her protectively, his grip encircling her waist, shielding her stomach. Cameron buried his head in her neck, inhaling her scent, a mix of soft fragrance and deep sorrow. It often haunted his dreams, unsettling him.

Only by holding Lyla did Cameron truly feel her presence.

Tears nearly obscured Lyla’s consciousness, and the sudden upheaval left her dizzy before she fell into a warm embrace...

Lyla raised her head in panic, blinking to see clearly. Unable to believe she’d swiftly fallen back into his grip, she instinctively tried to push Cameron away.

“Don’t move, don’t say a word. Come with me, Lyla. I’ll protect you—I’m sorry, don’t hate me!” Cameron sensed her resistance, noticing Jude Holmes approaching. He pulled Lyla’s arm and scooped her up, ready to usher her into the car.

“Let me go, let me go!” Lyla struggled fiercely, desperate to break free from this man who had upended her peace, clinging to the car door in defiance. Yet escaping his grasp was a daunting challenge.

Cameron swiftly locked Lyla inside.

“Cameron, release her!” Jude shouted, catching up just as Lyla was secured inside. He rushed forward, grabbing Cameron and landing a punch.

Cameron anticipated the blow, only lightly brushing his bruised lip—a familiar, fiery pain. His gaze remained lowered, yet a chilling aura emanated from him, causing Jude to pause momentarily.

Without warning, Cameron retaliated, his punch precise and forceful enough to send Jude reeling.

“A murderer, with time for someone else’s wife? Don’t you hear the sirens? Focus on your own escape, unless you want me testifying against you!” Cameron’s words cut deeper than his fists. Jude stood frozen, stunned by the heavy accusation.

As Cameron smirked cynically, he ignored Jude, swung the car door open, and drove away swiftly.

“A murderer... a murderer... I’m not, I’m not... I’m not a murderer!” Jude, deeply shaken, glanced at Emerie lying prone on the ground before fleeing the scene in his car.

~

Cameron drove recklessly, running several red lights.

“Cameron, even if you ran someone over, no cop would stop you. Is this childish attempt to rid yourself of her worth it?” A text message from Nora jolted Cameron from his thoughts. He glanced in the rearview at Nora’s impassive face, his lips pressed in irritation.

Cameron was uneasy. Were all traffic enforcers so spineless, or had someone warned them already?

“What do you want from me? Why do this to me?” Lyla’s voice trembled with hysteria. She was done—this man kept disrupting her life without pity, unsettling her existence.

“To do what? Tell me what you think I’m doing. Lyla, I’m blinded, and you feel no guilt? When you hit me with that ashtray, did you ever consider I’m an old woman?” Nora took the offensive, aware that Lyla’s protests would sound like excuses to Cameron—this injury was self-inflicted, and she wanted to frame Lyla, manipulating the situation shamelessly.

“Ha! As vile and deceitful as ever, Nora James!” Only when Nora spoke did Lyla notice the bandaged eye. She heard the intended manipulation in Nora’s words to gain Cameron's sympathy, yet found no energy to counter.

Lyla knew arguing with Cameron would yield no results. Whether she spoke or stayed silent, the outcome was unchanged. Why waste energy?

“Quiet!” Cameron snapped at Lyla’s insolence, alarmed by her indifference to Nora’s ire. Was she unafraid of death?

Cameron’s harsh command chilled Lyla. She cast him a sardonic glance, then closed her eyes, withdrawing. She realized any resistance was futile—they wouldn’t spare her.

She misjudged him as a blindly devoted son, unaware of his deeper motives.

Cameron's car maneuvered through a deserted industrial complex, desolate and eerie.

This was Nora’s plan, ensuring their actions remained unseen...

“No, not England… We return to Haven City!” Jude declared, resolved. He had long considered this—returning to Haven, where neither Cameron nor Destiny Holmes would expect. Crucially, a peculiar doctor resided there. With Keily, perhaps the child could grow healthily.

Jude’s words unnerved Lyla. She sat stunned at Keily’s bedside, speechless, as Jude looked entirely serious about returning. She wasn’t prepared.

“You mean ignoring business rivalries?” Lyla asked, incredulous. She doubted Jude would relinquish his vendetta against Cameron. The two had clashed in business for years—since she joined the company. The recent scandal was Jude’s perfect chance to oust Cameron.

“Forget those compared to you and Keily—it’s nothing!” Jude paused, surprised Lyla would mention the company now. He hadn’t truly abandoned his rivalry with Cameron, but the struggle seemed pointless.

Skyler Lopez had informed him that Cameron was soon to be ousted from Pure Wings. Without Cameron, defeating it held little value.

“Thank you, Jude. Having you as a friend reassures me!” Lyla smiled, grateful yet guilt-ridden toward Jude. She owed him so much she couldn’t repay…

“Lyla…” Jude sensed rejection again. Lyla’s simplicity masked clarity—a declaration of friendship defining their bond. Jude couldn’t ask for more. He’d known from the start it was impossible, but he persisted despite the inevitable outcome.

“Sorry for the trouble. Perhaps I’ll consult with Skyler, see his thoughts on returning to Haven. Honestly, I’m anxious about it,” Lyla suggested, shifting the focus away from Jude’s heartache.

“Skyler?” Jude's face shadowed at Lyla’s mention of Skyler—a man with a sinister streak Lyla seemed unaware of.

“Yeah, actually, Skyler’s Keily’s godfather. I never told you!” Lyla admitted, embarrassed by her omission.

“No problem—go ahead. I’ll watch Keily.” Jude shrugged, feigning indifference, as he patted Lyla’s shoulder reassuringly.

With a smile, Lyla left to find Skyler, needing to consult her savior from Haven. If returning, she sought Skyler’s counsel.

“Seems you missed the morning news, remaining so composed around me. Normally, you’d push me to hell by now!” Lyla noted, disliking the awkwardness between them and eager to break the tension.

“I saw it. You’re here for my signature on the surgical consent, right?” Cameron guessed Lyla’s purpose. Her seeking out Nora seemed natural, despite her skepticism of explanations Cameron could scarcely provide.

“So you know—how will you handle me?” Lyla asked, unsurprised at Cameron’s awareness. His reach always seemed boundless. She scoffed, watching him engrossed in documents.

“I’ll treat you well—don’t overthink. I have critical matters to resolve first. Once handled, I’ll explain everything from twenty years ago.” Cameron sighed, glancing at her before speaking softly.

“No need—I don’t want your kindness! I wonder how you left the police station so quickly—what did you use as bail?” Despite Cameron’s sincerity, Lyla’s heart stayed guarded, her words defiant.

“Don’t test my limits, Lyla. I promised you answers soon. Ensure the truth you find is reality before acting on it.” Cameron knew she provoked him knowingly, yet felt frustrated and helpless.

“Sign for the surgery; without it, she can't be questioned. I handle disputes directly, not through shady dealings. For clarity, I ask those involved,” Lyla replied, sensing Cameron's entanglement but avoiding further engagement. Her visit aimed to secure his signature for Nora's procedure.

“That’s my concern. I’ll handle it. After signing, I might leave for a bit—I trust you won’t exploit the situation. I know you loathe her and me, but believe you won’t take advantage. Please care for her.” Cameron put down his pen, regarding Lyla earnestly.

“Thanks for your trust. Your whereabouts aren’t my concern. As you see, the doctor requires a relative's signature. I’m unrelated, so another caregiver is needed.” Lyla felt their exchange was laced with tension, knowing their tangled past weighed heavily on every word.

“Mrs. Smith, how have you been lately?” Cameron Carlson entered the room with Lyla Greene at his side, a mischievous glint in his eye. He was expecting quite the show.

Before him stood the woman who had once claimed to be Lyla's stepmother. She appeared poised and elegant, but beneath that facade lay a greedy and cruel heart—something Lyla had fully realized a year ago.

“Mr. Carlson?!” Mrs. Smith was momentarily stunned by the sight of the commanding man before her. The way Cameron addressed her as Mrs. Smith briefly puzzled her, but realizing he was indeed speaking to her, a delighted and ingratiating smile quickly spread across her face.

“It’s truly an honor for the Greene family to have you here. May I ask who this is?” Mrs. Smith was always keen to climb the social ladder, especially with someone of Cameron Carlson’s stature. She was so thrilled at the prospect of getting close to him that she initially failed to notice the woman standing quietly at his side.

When she finally took in Lyla Greene, who stood there quietly with her head slightly bowed, Mrs. Smith felt a strange sense of familiarity yet couldn’t quite place her face.

“Mrs. Smith, it’s been a while. How have you been?” Lyla remarked, a slight, cold smile playing on her lips as she raised her head with a touch of disdain. She looked at the woman, whose well-preserved appearance hadn’t changed much over the past year, though every part of her wanted to unleash a torrent of accusations. But at Cameron’s subtle nod, Lyla kept her composure.

Seeing Lyla again after a year, Mrs. Smith’s jaw dropped—almost as if she could swallow a bread roll whole. The woman before her was elegant, exuding a noble air, leaving Mrs. Smith staggered into silence, barely able to breathe.

The wrongdoings she and Mr. Greene had conspired in surged through her mind like scenes from a movie. She had thought Lyla Greene was gone for good; yet here she stood, more perfect than ever. And, most importantly, Cameron Carlson, a man who could change destinies, was right beside her like a dark angel.

“Mrs. Smith, are you alright?” Cameron waved a hand in front of her face, showing nothing but disdain for the woman who, moments ago, had been overly eager to establish a connection with him but now looked as if she’d seen a ghost. “Are you just so thrilled to see an old friend?” he mocked, making no effort to soften his words.

“Lyla... it’s really you!” Mrs. Smith stammered, her hands trembling with disbelief. How could Lyla be alive and able to stand beside Cameron?

“Mrs. Smith, didn’t you claim that Lyla Greene no longer existed? Did you forget the satisfaction of erasing someone’s identity from the family records?” Lyla sneered, glancing at Cameron as she took a deep breath. She raised her left hand, showcasing the massive diamond ring Cameron had just put on her finger. “I am Mrs. Carlson now, not Lyla Greene!”

Upon seeing the ring, Mrs. Smith was left speechless with shock. Known for her passion for jewelry, she was aware of this ring’s history and value. She could hardly believe that Lyla had the nerve to wear it—a piece worth nearly the entire Greene estate.

“Mrs. Smith, wasn’t Lyla Greene erased from the Greene family registry a year ago? You must have thought highly of her to keep her in your memory all this time,” Lyla whispered into Mrs. Smith’s ear with icy sarcasm.

“It’s really you, Lyla...” Mrs. Smith, clearly no fool, now realized that the person before her was indeed Lyla Greene. But hadn’t Emerie Adams claimed she had died in an accident?

“A year ago, that highway crash stirred quite a commotion. But, unfortunately for you, I met her before it happened. Naturally, my woman had to come with me! I don’t like traffic jams, so we dodged such a bloody mess!” Cameron continued, leaving even Lyla unaware of just how bloody the assassination attempt had been.

Cameron would never let her know the lengths he had gone to before their meeting. Whether it was making the accident more tragic or sending the culprit directly to hell, he took every measure. In this world, no one but him had the right to harm her.

Drawn close to Cameron’s chest, his familiar scent suddenly felt foreign to Lyla. She couldn’t comprehend what Cameron was saying—what accident, what tragedy?

She wanted to ask what had happened, but Cameron’s grip on her wrist stopped her, leaving her in quiet obedience.

“...” Mrs. Smith grew increasingly panicked at Cameron’s words. “It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it, it has nothing to do with me!” she insisted, caught like a deer in headlights, shaking her head vigorously.

She regretted not being bold enough to personally visit the accident site back then. Now Lyla was back, returning with such conviction. If she ever dared to move against her again, it would be almost impossible—not only because Lyla now had an admirable status but also because she had changed.

Mrs. Smith could sense a transformation in Lyla, who was no longer the weak and helpless woman from a year ago. She had become somewhat enigmatic, and Mrs. Smith couldn’t decipher her intentions.

“So, Mrs. Smith, what are your plans now? As far as I know, the Greene estate is under your control, isn’t it on the edge of collapse due to excessive spending? Hosting a party while managing such a mess must have been quite the juggling act for you!” Cameron looked disdainfully at the flustered woman, his eyes alight with scorn. “However, I’ve been thinking about investing in real estate. If you’re interested, you can come talk to me. It’d be a shame for the Greene legacy to crumble. Do give it some thought!”

As he tightened his hold on Lyla’s hand, Cameron kept her growing hatred in check, effectively blocking Mrs. Smith’s escape routes.

“I still need to introduce my wife to others, so we’ll excuse ourselves. Thank you once again for your invitation!” Having delivered a memorable welcome gift to Mrs. Smith, Cameron turned with a look of disdain and led Lyla away.

Watching the pair leave, Mrs. Smith felt so intimidated that she almost lost her balance, realizing she needed to find Emerie Adams quickly and inform her of this news. It was all too terrifying—even for someone as ruthless as her, the thought of facing the returning Lyla Greene was daunting.

In the dim lighting, an eerie atmosphere enveloped the surroundings as Lyla Greene found herself thrust onto the ground. It took a moment for her to realize that this place was anything but ordinary—an abandoned industrial district with shadowy streets, shrouded in an unsettling ambiance. As she raised her head, she met Cameron’s cold gaze. The towering figure now stood before her, looming with a menacing presence.

“Lyla...” Watching her pale, crumpled form on the ground, Cameron longed to hold and protect her. Yet, the piercing gaze from behind didn’t allow for any emotional revelation—Nora James was closely watching his every move. Should he hesitate any longer, Nora would surely make good on her promise to personally end Lyla’s life.

If that happened, Lyla Greene would truly have no hope left.

“Lyla, I’m sorry, please forgive me!” Cameron knelt down, reaching out to touch her cheek. However, understanding some of the underlying truth made it all the more difficult for him to proceed.

“Ha! Is there any point in this fake apology now? Cameron, didn’t you bring me here to destroy me? Are you going to make a speech before doing it? Are you scared of retribution?” Lyla moved away from his touch, her eyes filled with contempt. Her face, ashen and furrowed with pain, bore testament to her silent endurance. Being thrown from the car earlier hadn’t hit any vital spots, but her body, already frail, couldn’t withstand much more.

“It’s not like that, Lyla, I...” Cameron wished to tell her that he was compelled to act this way—that it was...

“I don’t want to wait any longer. I’m exhausted. If you won’t act, I have no qualms about calling my own people!” Cameron’s phone buzzed again before he could continue. Reading the latest message, he found it succinct yet dripping with threats and commands.

Nora James kept a vigilant watch over the pair on the ground. She was eager to see when Cameron would act, curious to determine whether she held more significance in his heart than Lyla Greene, the daughter of a loathed adversary.

Upon receiving Nora’s message, Cameron’s face darkened. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed Lyla’s hair forcefully.

“One day, you’ll understand!” Cameron uttered his words with a sorrow-laden tone, the depth of which wasn’t easily grasped. He hoped—but also dreaded—that Lyla would realize his purpose. Perhaps after this ordeal, he would never be able to win her back, but presently, there was no other recourse.

This was the only way to ensure her safety.

Cameron gripped Lyla’s neck and lifted her from the ground with fierce determination, showing no mercy.

Lyla knew that once Cameron found her, he wouldn’t let her live easily. Yet, she hadn’t anticipated such cruelty; he had never cherished her, and she had grown used to it—her heart had grown numb.

“Cameron... you’d better make it quick. Don’t give me a chance to fight back, or maybe the one who dies won’t be me!” Lyla seethed with unmasked hatred. Her heart had long gone cold, and if not for her child, she might have already ended him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll never give you that opportunity—ever!” Cameron seemed to have entered a state of detachment, his predatory instincts on full display, as if Lyla were his marked prey, unable to escape.

“Lyla Greene, this is my last demonstration of inevitable calamity!” Cameron took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. Then, reopening them swiftly, his clenched fist targeted the most vulnerable part of Lyla’s body.

That part harbored a fragile life, unable to withstand even slight turmoil.

“Ah!” The sharp cry echoed as pain overwhelmed her, causing Lyla’s face to contort in disbelief and agony.

His fist lingered there, precise and unyielding.

Lyla’s body crumpled uncontrollably under the onslaught of pain, rendering her utterly powerless. The man truly sought to destroy her, and with her, the beloved treasure she cherished most.

“Why... why?” She lay prostrate on the ground, her voice barely a whisper, as the chilling air and the scent of blood engulfed her senses.

That smell frightened her—a recollection of torment that had plagued her, hurting both body and soul. The feeling of something being ripped away made Lyla weep with anxiety.

“Why! Why didn’t you just kill me! Why hurt my child?” These words drained every ounce of her strength, her resolve tinged with bitterness and wrath.

Cameron gazed at the woman writhing beneath him, pained by her suffering. He knew the depth of her nightmares.

“Lyla Greene, you coward, dreaming again that I abandoned you?” The voice of a child, though youthful, carried an incongruously mature tone. He pushed open the door, hands in pockets, and leisurely made his way to Lyla’s bedside, slipping off his shoes before climbing up next to her.

“Honestly, you’re an adult. Why are you still having nightmares? Don’t cling to me—I’m about to start school and won’t have time to take care of you! You’re so high-maintenance!” He fetched a pristine handkerchief, his pale, dainty hands brushing over Lyla’s forehead.

“Keily!” Lyla gazed at the handsome and adorable boy before her, unable to restrain the flood of emotions, pulling him into a tight embrace as if holding onto her entire world, afraid he might vanish at any moment.

“Hey, Lyla, are you trying to smother your own son? I can’t breathe!” Struggling against the suffocating embrace, Keily clutched the handkerchief, wiggling his small hand over Lyla’s head in an attempt to escape her grasp.

“Keily, promise Mom you won’t leave her, okay? You’re all I have. Don’t leave me...” Lyla hadn’t fully awakened from her dream. For five years, this nightmare had haunted her. This child was everything to her, yet his health...

“Mom, you need to be more mature! Where would I go? All these years, moving from place to place, I’ve stuck by you, haven’t I? What’s going on in that head of yours, refusing to settle down with Dad Skyler, dragging us through the elements instead? Aren’t women supposed to want stable lives? Why are you so different?” Keily acted every bit the little adult, nearly driven to frustration by Lyla’s frequent relocations.

“Keily, how many times has Mom told you that we can’t keep bothering Dad Skyler! We owe him so much already, debts that can’t be repaid in this lifetime, so we should try to live independently and not trouble others, okay?” Hearing Keily mention Skyler, Lyla finally regained some clarity, shaking her head to dispel the lingering nightmare as she gently grabbed Keily’s slender arm, speaking earnestly.

“Alright, alright, I know! Isn’t it because he likes you and you don’t like him? That’s why you keep dodging him, right?” Keily teased, sticking his tongue out playfully. He knew his mom all too well. These past five years, the circumstances of their lives forced him to grow up quickly, but his mischievous spirit always shone through.

Cameron Carlson navigated the bustling crowd with Lyla Greene by his side, soaking in the admiration and well-wishes from onlookers. Lyla, playing her part, remained composed beside him. However, amidst the throng of people, a pair of eyes remained fixated on Lyla, unwavering since the moment they first caught sight of her.

Nathan Graham couldn’t believe he was seeing Lyla again. Watching her stand next to the man who had become a larger-than-life figure in the public eye, Nathan's heart ached, and he felt almost breathless. The woman who should have been his wife was wearing a diamond ring from that man.

Nathan was deeply in love with Lyla. He loved her so much that he never entertained the thought of being with Emerie Adams. Yet, his love was never enough to win Lyla’s heart because, like him, it was fraught with cowardice. When Lyla found herself isolated and alone, Nathan not only failed to protect her but publicly announced his engagement to Emerie. Even though he knew Lyla had been disowned by her family, he didn’t dare defy their orders to assist her. Such a man might evoke pity, but Lyla couldn’t blame him, understanding that she never loved him, nor ever would.

Nathan continued to stare at Lyla, his gaze absorbing every expression. He longed to approach her, but his legs wouldn’t move.

Cameron sensed Nathan's intense gaze and turned, meeting Nathan's eyes, filled with longing for Lyla. With a smirk, Cameron possessively pulled Lyla closer, raising his left hand with the wedding band gleaming, as if to declare to Nathan unequivocally that Lyla was his. Nathan seethed at the gesture but knew better than to act on it. After all, as Emerie's husband and a father, he had no right to draw near Lyla. Yet, seeing Cameron’s arrogance, he couldn’t quell the frustration brewing inside him.

Lyla found it hard to breathe under Cameron’s protective hold. His grip on her waist was almost punishing, as if driven by anger. She didn’t understand the reason for his mood, choosing instead to remain silent, her brows slightly furrowed as she stood beside him, like a puppet.

Cameron noticed the change in Lyla’s demeanor and loosened his grip. He downed his drink in one go and gently touched her forehead. “What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable?” His tender gesture shocked everyone around, as it was widely believed Cameron was utterly indifferent, especially to women. The onlookers were dumbfounded, questioning the validity of the rumors they had heard.

“Everyone, my apologies. My wife isn’t feeling well, so we’ll be leaving,” Cameron announced, nodding slightly before leading Lyla out of the crowd.

“Lyla, what are we doing? Where are we going now? I'm so tired,” little Keily grumbled, her tiny voice full of exhaustion and curiosity. Just off the plane, Lyla was already talking about leaving again.

“Keily, you’ve often said you wanted to meet your grandparents. Shall we go see them?” Lyla struggled to explain to Keily why they needed to return to their ancestral home so suddenly.

“But, Mom... aren’t Grandma and Grandpa really far away? I often saw you cry over their photo late at night, and I thought…” Keily trailed off, confused by the rare mention of Chaim Greene and Rivka Hayes, names seldom spoken in their home.

“Keily, though they’re no longer with us, the place they lived is where we need to go. They would want to see how you've grown,” Lyla said, her heart heavy as she lovingly caressed Keily’s head.

“Mom, you have me, and I’ll always protect you. I won't let anyone hurt you,” Keily said, sensing the sorrow in Lyla’s heart. The child nestled closer to Lyla for comfort.

“Thank you, Keily. Thank you for not blaming your mom,” Lyla whispered, gazing out the window at the drizzling night. The weather was chilly, matching her somber mood.

Returning to their hometown in the dead of night, few noticed their departure. Lyla, Keily, Jude, and Skyler boarded a flight to their destination. Only Lana refused to return, unwilling to face the oppressive memories of the past.

On the plane, silence pervaded among the adults, their faces clouded with worry, especially Lyla, whose expression was stark and somber. The longer the flight, the more anxious she became.

Keily, however, was wide awake with excitement, flitting between seats, teasing Skyler and playing games with Jude. The prospect of settling down in a stable home, as Lyla promised, thrilled her. It was a dream come true—having a place to call home, free from the shadows that had pursued them.

“Keily, aren’t you tired from all that running around?” Lyla asked as Keily, finally exhausted, climbed onto her lap, reaching for a glass of water. Lyla stopped her, aware of how dangerous it could be for Keily’s delicate heart condition to drink too quickly after exertion.

Despite Lyla’s frequent warnings, Keily’s playful nature often overpowered caution. “Mom, you’re so fussy! I’m bored. How much longer till we arrive?” Keily pouted, squirming in Lyla’s embrace.

Lyla glanced at her watch, her eyes glazing over with thought. “Not long now… we’ll be home very soon…”