Real love never dies.

Chapter:17

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By the time Lily returned to the Richmond estate, the early morning light was already breaking through the clouds. She moved quietly through the grand front doors, hoping not to wake anyone. Her clothes were wrinkled, her hair was a mess, and her eyes were still red and puffy from crying.

She paused at the foot of the staircase, gripping the bannister tightly.

"Hold it together, Lily," she whispered to herself.

Taking a deep breath, she tiptoed upstairs to her bedroom. Once inside, she locked the door and leaned against it for a moment, feeling the crushing weight of everything she'd gone through.

She kicked off her shoes, letting them land wherever they fell, and pulled the curtains shut, blocking out the morning sun. In the dim light, she changed into one of her soft, oversized hoodies and climbed into bed, wrapping the thick comforter around herself like a shield.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She glanced at it, heart clenching when she saw Sky's name flashing across the screen.

She stared at it for a moment, debating, but in the end, she turned the phone over without answering.

"Not now," she whispered.

Curling up under the covers, Lily let herself cry silently into the pillow. But even through the pain, a small, determined fire began to light inside her.

She would not fall apart over someone who didn’t value her.

She would not let them break her spirit.

Slowly, her tears dried, and exhaustion pulled her into a restless sleep.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

And Lily Richmond would find a way to piece herself back together—no matter how broken she felt now.

---

Meanwhile, across town, in the small shared apartment, Alex was quietly moving around the kitchen, preparing a simple breakfast. The morning sun spilled through the windows, casting a soft golden glow over the cozy space. She wore a loose T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans, her hair tied up in a messy bun.

At the sound of footsteps, she turned to see Ethan walking in, looking much better than he had the night before. He still moved a little stiffly, his wounded arm in a makeshift sling Alex had helped patch up, but the color had returned to his face.

"Morning," she said with a small smile, sliding a mug of coffee across the counter toward him.

Ethan caught it with his good hand, offering a grateful nod. "Morning," he replied, his voice still a little rough.

There was a comfortable silence between them as Alex flipped some pancakes on the stove. Ethan leaned against the counter, watching her with a soft, almost amused expression. After everything that had happened, the quiet normalcy felt strange—but in a good way.

"You know," Ethan said after a while, taking a careful sip of his coffee, "I'm still not sure why you helped me."

Alex shrugged lightly, not meeting his eyes. "I don't know. Guess you looked like you needed it."

He chuckled under his breath. "That's an understatement."

She smiled faintly, setting a plate in front of him. "Eat. You need your strength."

Ethan sat down at the small table, the smell of pancakes making his stomach growl. He couldn't remember the last time someone had taken care of him without wanting something in return. It was...refreshing.

As they ate, the bond between them quietly deepened—a fragile thread weaving itself tighter with every shared glance, every small smile.

For the first time in a long time, Ethan Richmond felt like maybe—just maybe—he wasn't as alone as he thought.

---

At the far edge of the city, hidden behind high walls and thick greenery, sat a luxurious private residence owned by none other than Reginald Richmond — a place few knew about, and even fewer were allowed to visit.

The evening was quiet, the air rich with the scent of expensive cologne and aged wine. Inside the grand yet intimate living room, Reginald sat comfortably on a leather armchair, a glass of scotch in hand. Across from him, sprawled casually on the sofa, was Sammy — a stunning woman in her early thirties, with soft brown hair and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

She twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers, giving him a playful smile.

"You’ve been tense lately," Sammy said, voice smooth like velvet. "Family troubles again?"

Reginald let out a slow, bitter chuckle. "When are there not family troubles?" he muttered, taking a sip of his drink. His sharp eyes, normally cold and calculating in the presence of others, softened slightly as they lingered on Sammy.

She rose gracefully and crossed the room, settling onto the armrest of his chair, her fingers gently running through his silver hair. "You need to relax... forget about them, just for tonight," she whispered.

Reginald closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself a moment of peace—a rare luxury for a man like him. Sammy’s presence was his escape from the constant burden of being the patriarch of the Richmond dynasty.

As the evening stretched on, they shared quiet conversations, light laughter, and unspoken promises. For a few hours, Reginald wasn't the feared, calculating businessman; he was just a man seeking warmth in a life full of cold alliances and ruthless ambition.

In this hidden place, under the soft glow of the chandelier, Reginald Richmond let the world slip away.

---

Later that night, after the laughter had faded into comfortable silence, Sammy rested her head against Reginald's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. For a man so feared in the business world, here he was simply human — vulnerable in a way he would never allow anyone else to see.

She traced small circles on his shirt absentmindedly before finally speaking.

"Reginald," she murmured, "have you ever thought about... leaving it all behind? The company, the pressure, the family wars?"

He let out a low sigh, staring up at the ceiling. "I've built too much. Sacrificed too much. I can't just walk away."

Sammy lifted her head to look at him, her eyes searching his face. "But what about us? Don't you ever want something more... real?"

Reginald hesitated, the weight of his responsibilities pulling heavily at him. He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his touch lingering.

"I want you," he said quietly. "But my world is complicated. Dangerous. It’s not so easy."

Sammy’s heart twisted, but she forced a small smile. She knew better than to push too hard — not with a man like Reginald Richmond. Instead, she leaned up and kissed him softly, trying to seal her fears away.

By morning, the mood had shifted. Reality seeped back in like a slow, inevitable tide. Reginald stood by the window, already dressed in his sharp, tailored suit, staring out at the gray city skyline.

"You should go back first," he said, voice cool and composed once again. "It’s better if no one sees us together."

Sammy sat up in bed, pulling the sheet tighter around her. She nodded, even though it stung.

"Be careful, Reggie," she said softly.

Without looking back, he finished his drink, placed the glass down with a soft clink, and walked out the door — stepping back into the life he could never fully escape.

Sammy sat there a moment longer, watching the door he'd left through, feeling the heavy ache of being his secret... wondering just how long she could live with it.

---

After leaving Sammy behind, Reginald Richmond returned to one of the Richmond family’s private offices — a place only the inner circle ever visited. The air inside was cold, sterile, heavy with the scent of leather and old whiskey.

Waiting there, pacing back and forth like a restless predator, was Lucas.

As soon as Reginald entered, Lucas snapped to attention, the frustration on his face clear.

"You took your sweet time," Lucas said sharply.

Reginald simply raised an eyebrow, his cool, commanding aura enough to make anyone else shrink back. But Lucas wasn’t just anyone — he was his son, and a dangerous one at that.

"I don’t answer to you," Reginald said evenly, removing his coat and draping it over a chair. He poured himself a drink without offering one to Lucas.

Lucas clenched his jaw but forced himself to stay calm. He needed Reginald's approval, no matter how much it grated on him.

"I still can't find Ethan," Lucas growled. "It's like he vanished. Lily’s hiding something, I’m sure of it, but I can’t pin her down."

Reginald took a slow sip of his drink, regarding Lucas over the rim of the glass.

"And you came here to tell me you failed?" he asked, voice low and cutting.

Lucas stiffened. "No. I came to tell you I have another plan. Ethan can't stay hidden forever. And Lily... if she's hiding him, she’ll slip up eventually."

Reginald placed his glass down with a decisive clink. He stepped closer to Lucas, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper.

"Listen carefully, boy. You’re letting your emotions get in the way. Recklessness is weakness. Control is what keeps power in our hands."

Lucas swallowed hard, nodding reluctantly.

Reginald studied him for a moment longer before finally saying,

"Keep watching Lily. Tighten the noose, but don't choke her yet. And if Ethan resurfaces... make sure he doesn't get the chance to run again."

Lucas’s lips curled into a cruel smile.

"Understood."

The tension in the room lingered like a storm about to break as father and son stood there — bound by blood, ambition, and a dangerous thirst for control.

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