Run away with his babies and still enter his trap

​ ​Chapter 1: The Predator of Ash ​Evans Miller didn't believe in ghosts, but he lived in a world populated by them. As the head of Miller Holdings—a front for a logistics empire that specialized in things the law preferred not to see—Evans dealt in silence. ​He was a man carved out of flint and cold glass. His eyes, a piercing, predatory grey, never softened. When he killed Julian Quinn, a high-ranking member of the"Sovereigns"—a shadowy cabal that operated in the city’s deepest marrow—he didn't do it out of passion. He did it because he believed Julian was part of his mother's death . He didn't know that Julian Quinn was father of, and the only family of Precious Quinn. He didn't care. To Evans, people were either tools or obstacles. ​Precious Quinn was kidnapped by him, She didn't know who Evans was. She only knew him as the murderer of her family. Powerful business associates, one of top five ranked richest man. ​Precious was everything Evans was not: warmth, light, and a naive belief in the goodness of others. Driven by a hollow ache of loss and a desperate need to feel something other than mourning, she fell into his orbit. Evans, fueled by a rare, dark curiosity for the daughter of the man he’d slaughtered, didn't pull away. ​That night was a blur of expensive scotch and silken sheets. It was supposed to be a singular transaction of comfort. But for Evans, it was a conquest. For Precious, it was the beginning of a nightmare. ​Evans Miller didn't believe in ghosts, but he lived in a world populated by them. As the head of Miller Holdings—a front for a logistics empire that specialized in things the law preferred not to see—Evans dealt in silence. ​He was a man carved out of flint and cold glass. His eyes, a piercing, predatory grey, never softened. When he killed Julian Quinn, a high-ranking member of the "Sovereigns"—a shadowy cabal that operated in the city’s deepest marrow—he didn't do it out of passion. He did it because he believed Julian was part of his mother's death . He did know that Julian Quinn was father, and the only family of Precious Quinn. He didn't care. To Evans, people were either tools or obstacles. ​Precious Quinn was kidnapped by him, She didn't know who Evans was. She only knew him as the murderer of her family. Powerful business associates, one of top five ranked richest man. ​Precious was everything Evans was not: warmth, light, and a naive belief in the goodness of others. Driven by a hollow ache of loss and a desperate need to feel something other than mourning, she fell into his orbit. Evans, fueled by a rare, dark curiosity for the daughter of the his enemy, but for precious was beginning of a nightmare. ​Precious had been staying in Evans’s penthouse, thinking about her own way of end, until she find out she might be pregnant. While Evans was out "negotiating," she soaked herself in ice water and on the sun to fake a sickness of maybe cold or fever, even her appearance helped her to convince the butler to call his master and send her to their hospital, normally that wasn't her first time getting out to hospital so when butler Mr Martin called Evans's phone without respond, he sent precious and one bodyguard to the hospital. Inside a file, It contained some papers that looked like documents with precious Quinn name boldly on it. three months pregnant with triplet? Where is she, when did this suddenly happen and she didn't tell me? Evans stated angrily Mr Miller we are sorry, she escaped using the hospital, but our men are still searching for her she won't go far. Evans listining to his explanation like hearing how to kill a human without using knife. Who sent her to the hospital without my permission Evans asked Is the butler, without Evans asking anything, the body guard escorted Mr Martin to their master. Mr Martin I heard living has nothing want to do with you am I right? Evans asked No sir Martin went on his knees started sobbing, I worked for you with loyalty that I won't never give it up sir, she was actually so sick and pale up so much that I was scared she might be dying, I tried giving you a call severally but you never did pick up so I called one of your trusted bodyguard to go along with her, I can't let her die in my sight that was the reason sir, please let me pay alone, it was my bad, I could have just call the hospital to come and give her indoor treatment Martin cried. I hope that was nothing but the truth Mr Martin Evans asked angrily Yes Mr Miller, you can check the cctv in house, I have nothing doing with Ms Quinn escape Martin said. Check out the cctvs and bring all the footage to me Evans said yes sir one of the men replied. Bringing all the evidence to him, Evans found the very paled lady was not that pale before but she made herself like that. The man she slept with—the man whose child was currently growing inside her—was the man who had executed her only family, her father. ​She didn't scream. The horror was too deep for sound. She felt the first stirrings of life in her womb—not one, but a frantic, rhythmic pulsing. The doctor had confirmed it just days prior: triplets. Three lives tied to a monster. ​She left with nothing but the clothes on her back and the gold locket her dad left had given her. She vanished into the tiny air like she never existed, disappearing before Evans’s car even pulled into the driveway. Evans Miller didn't take her lead well. He felt a cold, simmering rage. ​"Find her," he told his head of security, his voice a low, dangerous rasp. "I don't care if you have to burn the city to the ground. She is carrying my property." ​But Precious was smarter than he gave her credit for. She used all her might to enter one a remotest of remote village. For three years, she lived in a coastal village under a false name, raising three silver-eyed boys: Leo, Marc, and Silas. They had their father’s eyes, but she prayed they had inherited none of his soul. Evans never stopped looking. He used his billions to build a global surveillance net disguised as a "Safety Initiative." ​Three years to the day after she fled, a facial recognition hit pinged in a small grocery store in Maine. A grainy image of a woman holding the hands of three identical boys. ​Evans looked at the screen, a slow, terrifying smile spreading across his face. He didn't send the police. He didn't send a legal team. He sent a black SUV and six men with tranquilizer darts. ​He didn't want her back because he loved her, nor missed her. He wanted her back because no one stole from Evans Miller—especially not his own blood and not when he didn't archive his reason of his own promise of revenge. The morning in the village of Oakhaven was supposed to be like any other. The air smelled of salt and pine, and the triplets—Leo, Marc, and Silas—were arguing over who got the last piece of toast. Precious watched them, a constant, low-level anxiety hummed in her chest, but she pushed it down. Five years of peace had made her dangerously soft. ​"Mom, Marc touched my shell collection!" Silas cried, his silver eyes flashing—a look so much like Evans’s that it made Precious’s heart skip a beat. ​"I didn't! I was just moving it!" Marc retorted. ​"Enough," Precious laughed, kissing the tops of their heads. "Get your bags. It’s school day." ​They never made it to the school bus. As they stepped onto the gravel driveway, a black SUV roared up the quiet coastal road, tires screaming against the stone. Two more followed, boxing them in. ​Precious’s instinct screamed run, but where can she run to and the children, when the door opened and a man in a crisp, charcoal suit stepped out—Evans’s lead enforcer, Vane—she knew the truth. The wolf had found his way to the fold. ​"Mr. Miller is expecting his sons, Precious," Vane said, his voice as dry as parchment. ​Precious grabbed a garden hoe, her knuckles white, her body a shield in front of the three confused boys. "You tell that murderer he’ll have to kill me first." ​"Mr. Miller anticipated that," Vane replied. He didn't pull a gun. He pulled a tablet. On the screen was a live feed of the village’s primary school and the local grocery store. "You can come quietly, and the boys stay safe. Or you can fight, and this village becomes a graveyard. You know he’s capable of it." ​The triplets huddled against her legs, sensing the predatory air. Precious looked at her sons—her whole world—and felt the cold hand of Evans Miller reaching out from the past to choke her. ​"Don't hurt them," she whispered, the hoe clattering to the ground.