(JARED'S POV)

It was another perfect day for a professional house husband.

I stretched, feeling refreshed as I swung my legs off the bed. Habit had me glancing at the other side where Maverick usually curled up, but it was empty.

Right. He'd been sleeping with Arielle these past few nights. Ever since those nightmares started, he hadn't left her side.

I sighed to myself. I'd grown used to his small frame tucked beside me, his soft breaths lulling me back to sleep whenever I woke during the night.

Another thing that'd feel even more natural? Waking up to both him and his mother next to me.

That thought earned a self-deprecating chuckle as I shuffled into my flip-flops. A man could dream, sure, but I knew better than to hope for the impossible—at least for now.

Slipping my legs into my flip-flops, I began my routine for the day. Brushing my teeth and splashing water on my face, I headed to the kitchen to get started on breakfast.

Cooking was something I'd gotten better at recently. I resorted to YouTube videos and stuck to less complex meals.

Cracking eggs into a bowl, I whisked them together, added a sprinkle of cheese, and seasoned them just right. The sizzle of the skillet filled the quiet house, and the smell of frying eggs and golden chips soon wafted through the air. I couldn't help but smile. If nothing else, my cooking would drag Maverick and Arielle out of bed in no time.

I was right. Just as I plated the omelets and chips, Maverick bounded into the kitchen, backpack already slung over one shoulder.

"Hmm, it smells so good in here!" he said, flaring his nostrils dramatically. "Morning, Daddy!"

"Morning, buddy," I said with a laugh, ruffling his messy hair.

He peered at the plates, eyes lighting up. "Can I have omelet and chips for breakfast? Please?"

I crouched to his level. "Nice try, but no. Breakfast is cereal; this is for your school lunch."

He sighed, then nodded. "Okay, Daddy."

Obedient as always. The kid never ceased to amaze me.

Arielle walked in just then, dressed and ready for the day in a textured gray tweed suit, black stockings, and modest heels. She looked effortlessly elegant, and I couldn't stop my eyes from lingering a little longer than necessary. "Morning," she said coolly, her tone polite but distant.

"Morning," I replied with more cheer than she probably expected. "Breakfast's ready."

She nodded and sat down at the table, her eyes scanning the plates of food. "Thank you," she finally mumbled.

It wasn't much, but I'd take it.

While Arielle ate, I helped Maverick with his cereal, spoon-feeding him to save time. Once they were done, I watched them leave for school and work.

And just like that, the house was quiet again.

I sighed as I cleaned up. It wasn't a bad routine, but their absence always left the place feeling...hollow. Like they took part of me with them when they walked out the door.

Once the chores were done, I took the puppies out for a walk. The fresh air helped clear my head, but as the day dragged on, boredom crept in.

My thoughts inevitably circled back to Arielle.

She'd been colder than usual lately. Not that she'd ever been warm and fuzzy toward me, but there was an edge now that hadn't been there before.

Was it because of the hot tub incident? Sure, it had been awkward-her walking in on me, stark naked but was it really that big of a deal? She'd seen all of me before, after all.

Or maybe she was just falling back into her default "Jared is my mortal enemy" mode.

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day.

I didn't blame her. I'd hurt her too

many times to count, and I wasn't foolish enough to expect

forgiveness anytime soon. But still, part of me wished she'd let her guard down, even just a little and see that I was trying.

They say time heals all wounds. I hoped that was true.

Being here with her and Maverick had given me a kind of peace I hadn't felt in years. Sofia didn't even cross my mind anymore.

And honestly? I preferred it that way.

I'd been quietly investigating Maverick's with Mark and Oliver's help, and Sofia was on my list of suspects.

Last night, Mark sent me an email containing details about her life abroad during her marriage.

Immediately, I rose from the couch. Finally got something to cure my boredom, and maybe, bring me closer to the truth.

In my room, my laptop sat on the bedside table. I powered it on, the soft hum filling the silence as I waited for it to boot. Once it did, I opened my inbox and scrolled until Mark's name caught my eye. There it was.

Clicking on the email, I leaned back, bracing myself for whatever revelation lay ahead.

As I read through the contents, my stomach sank.

Sofia's divorce years ago had been anything but ordinary. Her ex-husband's death? Unexplained. No cause. No warning. Just... gone.

A chill ran down my spine.

I'd never dug into her past before, and whenever I tried to bring up Sofia's divorce, she always seemed so heartbroken that I backed off. But this time, it felt different.

This wasn't a direct link to

Maverick's abduction, but it raised

questions couldn't ignore. I knew

Sofia well enough to recognize her manipulative streak, but murder? That didn't seem like her style.

If her husband's death wasn't natural, then who was responsible?

And why?

Adding to my unease was another unresolved issue. Ever since I sold my company's shares, I'd been trying to buy them back. But those shares had been scooped up by someone-a mysterious buyer I

couldn't trace.

For the past two weeks, I'd been dealing with this ghost of a person. Every lead I chased hit a dead end. Every attempt to uncover their identity was blocked.

And then there was Arielle's bodyguard, Big Joe. No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I had a bad gut feeling about him. The man seemed so ominous and a little too keen to stay out of the spotlight.

The whole thing was exhausting.

I also recalled Mark mentioning that someone had made it impossible for Arielle to be found when he'd first asked about her after her return from abroad.

There were just a lot of things happening around me, but none of them seemed to be directly connected. Just bits of dots that can't seem to fix the puzzle I've been replaceing answers to.

Yet, despite the lack of answers, a nagging feeling refused to let go.

These threads were linked.

Somewhere, somehow.

I just need to replace out how...

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