Raising The Ruthless Billionaire's Stolen Heir

ho

long since dissolved into the inky blackness of the interstate. N

n the dashboard, a tiny

sign announcing a town she

e pre-dawn silence broken only by the hum of the pump. The clerk ins

York, the constant thrum of ambition and regret. For the first time i

and bacon pulling her in. She ordered toast and ate it slow

e classifieds. An ad for a furnished apartment for

... stop. Right here

The landlady, a woman named Mrs. Ga

clean, one-bedroom apartment above a flower sh

first month's

oor behind her, leaving her alone

ed for her failed marriage, for the babies she would never have, for the woman s

a strange sort of peace settle

ters. She rearranged the sparse furniture. She needed to create order,

ed at her, the friendly, open curiosity of a small town towards a

blanket smothering her. Sleep was impossibl

d to g

of Havenwood. A few streetlights cast pools of soft yellow

direction, her foot

he hea

Almost like a kitten mewing

ound down Main Street, towards the old stone chu

coming from th

r heart began to poun

top step was

ward, her legs feeling stiff and heavy. The so

hed for the blanket covering t

baby's cheeks were red from the cold, its

r mouth. She scanned the empty square. There was

need, of utter helplessness. It resonated with the raw, empty spa

olded piece of paper. Her finger

ng was messy,

of him. I can't gi

No number

t took her breath away. She couldn't leave him here. She could

ded so

d, so

t bloomed in her mind. A thought that w

d wrapped it tightly around the basket,

he cradled it against her chest, the baby's cries soft

washed over her. This smal

the rectory door.

d and walked quickly, almost ru

d the door, and slipped inside, s

e. With a ba