The city lights shimmered like scattered jewels against the night sky as Bella sat by the window of her hotel room, her gaze distant but unyielding. The soft hum of traffic below contrasted sharply with the storm brewing inside her mind.
Before her lay a carefully arranged spread of papers: blueprints of the museum, legal contracts, old photographs of her mother, Marissa Morgan Evan, and records of ownership tied to the sprawling estate built by her mother and grandfather. Every detail was a thread she intended to pull—until the tangled web of lies and greed unraveled.
The museum is more than a building. It's her legacy. My legacy.
Her fingers traced the intricate lines of the blueprint as if to breathe life into the stone and glass. They think they can hold it hostage. I'll show them what it means to fight.
Her thoughts sharpened into strategy: first, reclaim the shares quietly held by her stepmother Arina and her scheming mother Alina; next, expose their manipulation of the Evan estate's assets; and finally, wrest control of the museum back into rightful hands.
---
Meanwhile, miles away, the Evan mansion was thick with tension.
Arina's footsteps echoed sharply against marble floors as she paced the grand hallway, her face tight with anger and fear. The news of Bella's return and the auction chaos had spread like wildfire.
"She's back," Arina muttered, lips curling into a bitter smile. "And she's already making waves."
Her mother, Alina, stood by the window, cool and calculating as always. "Bella's clever and relentless. She's not the girl we once knew. This time, she's coming for everything."
Arina's eyes flashed. "If she moves to claim the museum shares, it could ruin us. We've built our power here. We can't let her tear it down."
Alina's voice was low but resolute. "We'll use every weapon—legal battles, media spin, whispers in the right ears. We must remove her before she gains any real ground."
Arina's fingers curled into a fist. "She thinks she can fight us? She doesn't know who she's dealing with."
Alina's cold smile was the last thing Arina saw before she turned away. "The Morgan blood runs deep, but so does our grip."
---
At Elden Hollow, the silence of the grand mansion was broken by a persistent sound—tiny feet pattering down the hallway, followed by a soft, demanding voice.
"Mommy! Mommy! Meeeee want her! Now! Noooo!" Leo's baby voice, thick with toddler stubbornness, echoed as he tugged insistently at Lewis's sleeve.
Lewis looked down at the little boy's wide eyes and flushed cheeks, a mixture of frustration and amusement washing over him.
"Leo, buddy, Mommy's not here right now," Lewis said softly, kneeling to meet the boy's gaze.
Leo's bottom lip quivered dramatically, and he reached out, grabbing Lewis's collar with chubby fingers. "Nooo! Meeeee want Mommy! Meeeee want her now! Br'ng her! Brng her! Br'ng her!"
Lewis smiled despite himself, ruffling Leo's hair gently. "I know, little lion. I know."
Leo's stubborn little fists pounded softly against Lewis's chest. "Mommy! Mommy! Dada! Dada! Bring her!"
Lewis's eyes softened. The boy's innocent demand was a fragile echo of the complicated world swirling around them—one filled with power struggles and secrets but also undeniable love.
He sighed, standing and lifting Leo into his arms, rocking him slightly as Leo's protests softened into quiet hiccups.
"I'll do everything I can, Leo," Lewis murmured, pressing a kiss to his son's forehead. "I promise."
---
The night stretched on, a tapestry woven from whispered plans, whispered fears, and a baby's innocent protests.
Bella was preparing her next move—calm, focused, and unyielding.
Her stepfamily was already mobilizing to block her.
And Lewis was caught in the middle, holding tightly to the boy who called her "Mommy" in the sweetest, most stubborn voice he'd ever known.