Stolen love: In love with my sister 's fiance-Chapter 56: Beginnings of next -

"Mama..."

A weak, trembling voice echoed through the dimly lit bedroom. The little girl shifted restlessly under the thick blanket, her tiny face flushed with fever.

The maid, Sofia, wiped the child's damp forehead with a cool cloth, her hands trembling as she listened to the little one's delirious whispers.

"Miss... miss, please wake up," Sofia whispered, gently shaking her. But the child only whimpered, her fevered mind lost in dreams.

Panic settled in Sofia's chest as she grabbed the phone and quickly dialed a number.

The call connected after just one ring.

"What is it, Sofia?" The voice on the other end was sharp, impatient.

Sofia swallowed hard. "Madam... it's young Miss. She has a fever. She's calling for you."

A long silence followed.

Sofia pressed the phone closer to her ear, afraid the call had dropped.

Then, the voice returned, quieter this time.

"I'm coming."

The line went dead.

Sofia exhaled shakily, glancing at the child who still murmured in her sleep. She felt relief that young Miss mother is coming

A sharp click, click, click echoed through the hallway, heels striking against the marble floor in hurried steps.

Elaine barely noticed the worried glances of the staff as she rushed forward, her heart pounding. The moment she reached the door, she pushed it open, almost stumbling inside.

Her eyes instantly found the small figure on the bed—her daughter, Athena, lying weakly beneath the blankets, her cheeks flushed with fever.

"Mama..."

A tiny voice, fragile yet full of longing.

Elaine didn't hesitate. She crossed the room in seconds and sank onto the bed, gathering Athena into her arms. The child clung to her desperately, small hands fisting into her dress.

"Mama, where were you? I missed you. I don't feel good..." Athena's voice cracked with exhaustion.

Elaine's throat tightened. She stroked the little girl's hair, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead.

"Shh, my warrior," Elaine whispered softly, rocking her gently. "Nothing is going to happen to you. It's just a small fever, okay? Mama's here now. I'm not going anywhere."

Athena snuggled closer, her breathing uneven but calmer than before. Elaine held her tighter, as if shielding her from the world itself.

Outside, the rain started to fall.

And inside, Elaine felt relief, guilt, and love for leaving her daughter like that for business.

__

Somewhere far away, in a grand yet dimly lit office, a man in his mid-twenties sat behind an expansive desk, his fingers drumming impatiently against the polished wood. His sharp, piercing gaze was locked onto the trembling assistant before him.

"Have you found her?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying threat in every syllable.

The assistant swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably. "No, sir. There's... nothing about her."

Silence filled the room.

"Nothing?" The man's grip on his pen tightened.

The assistant hesitated before continuing, "It's as if she vanished. Like she was never in this world. No one knows anything—there are no records, no traces, nothing."

A deadly pause.

Then, with slow precision, the man placed his pen down and looked up. His dark eyes burned with restrained fury.

"Find her." His voice was dangerously low. "I am paying you all for this. Six years—six damn years—and you're telling me you can't even find one woman?"

The assistant shuddered as the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

"My patience is wearing thin," the man continued, standing up, his presence looming over the trembling employee. "I want answers in one week. No excuses."

The assistant bowed his head quickly, stepping back toward the door. "Y-Yes, sir. We'll do that immediately!"

The moment the door shut behind him, the man exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. His jaw clenched as his gaze darkened.

"Six years, Elaine... where the hell are you?"

___

A child's excited voice rang through the grand estate.

"Daddy!"

A small boy, no older than six, ran toward the tall man, his little legs moving as fast as they could. The man, who had been just coming from his business trip, turned at the sound. His hardened expression softened instantly.

He bent down, catching the child effortlessly in his arms, lifting him high into the air before bringing him close and pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek.

"Have you missed Daddy?" he asked, his voice gentler now.

The boy looked at him with wide, awe-filled eyes and gave an eager nod. His tiny hands clung to his father's shoulders as he giggled.

From a short distance, a woman stood watching them, her expression unreadable.

The man's eyes flickered past his son to the woman standing there. His smile faded slightly as something unreadable passed through his gaze.

"I missed you too," he murmured, his voice lower now.

But his focus remained on the boy in his arms, his grip tightening just a little—like he was holding onto the only thing that truly mattered.

"Take his bags to his room," the woman ordered the maids without sparing them a glance.

But the man holding his son ignored her completely. Without acknowledging her words, he carried the boy up the grand staircase, his grip firm yet gentle.

"Daddy, today I built a tower with blocks! It was so tall, even taller than me!" the child, Evan, babbled excitedly. His little hands gestured animatedly as he spoke, his eyes bright with excitement.

The man listened, nodding occasionally, his lips barely curving in response. Despite the storm brewing inside him, his patience never wavered when it came to his son.

A maid soon approached, bowing respectfully. "Sir, dinner is ready."

Evan turned his big eyes toward his father, tugging his sleeve. "I want to eat with your hand, Daddy."

For the first time that day, a small, genuine smile played on the man's lips. He ruffled the boy's hair. "Go ahead, Evan. Let me change first, and then I'll be right there."

The boy nodded happily and ran off with the maid, leaving the man alone in his dimly lit bedroom.

Just as he was unbuttoning his shirt, he felt a presence behind him. Before she could touch him, he moved swiftly—his hand grabbing hers and twisting it back with force.

"Ahh! Let me go, it hurts!" The woman cried out, her voice sharp with pain.

His grip tightened slightly before he leaned down, his voice ice-cold. "I warned you, Olivia. Do not cross your limits. Stay in your lane, or you know the consequences."

Without hesitation, he shoved her back. She stumbled, tears welling in her eyes, but she bit her lip to keep from making another sound.

She wanted to ask—Can I go outside? But before the words could escape her lips, his sharp glare cut through her.

"Don't test my patience," he snapped. "Stay where you belong."

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With that, he turned away, leaving her standing there, her fists clenched, silent tears trailing down her face.