Page 57 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

I stare out at the point where the sky meets the sea. There are potential negative implications for the palace, of course, and for Hawke Security.

I glance back over my shoulder through the doors at Sophaya, who’s still sleeping peacefully. In this moment, I don’t care about any of it. Just her.

“There’s more.”

Slowly, I turn back to the ocean. “Tell me.”

“Wilford dug into your past.”

“So? It’s not a secret what I did to survive.”

“It’s not that.” Todd sighs. “He wrote about your childhood. Your time in foster care, your grandmother, your father dying in prison.”

The walls start to close in. I can feel them pressing on me, retreat inside myself as I steel for whatever Todd is going to say next. “I see.”

“Dominic…he found your mom. She’s alive.”

A dull roaring builds in my ears, rivals the noise of the ocean.

“Alive,” I repeat.

“Yes. Married for twenty-nine years. Has two kids.”

After my caseworker told me my dad had been killed, I decided I would never seek my mom out. I didn’t want to know if she was dead or alive. A twisted, selfish part of me hoped she was dead because then there would at least be a reason as to why she didn’t come back for me.

And I was right. The sudden white-hot pain of knowing she’s not only alive but living with a different family, that she raised two kids while she pawned me off on her own mother, is rooted in the kind of devastation I’ve spent decades trying to avoid. A devastation that even now is crawling through me, wiping away all emotion.

“I’m sorry, man, I—”

“I’ll call you later.”

I hang up, stare out over the sea. Whatever happiness I found here is gone. Vanished in the blink of an eye.

My mother is alive. If she’s been married for twenty-nine years, that means she got married while I was languishing in foster care.

I told myself I had moved on. But judging by the effect this revelation is having on me, I’m still trapped back in the body of that scared little boy who craved his parents’ love even when they showed him over and over again they weren’t capable of giving it.

Slowly, I sink down onto one of the lounges and watch as the waves rush up the beach, only to recede over and over again.

Sophaya

I wake up to an empty bed. Slowly, I stretch, glancing around our suite. Then I glance out the glass doors, smiling when I see Dominic lounging on the deck. I stand and grab a fluffy white robe from the back of the door.

But as I slide the doors open, a warning whispers across the back of my neck. Dominic’s shoulders are tense, his gaze trained on the horizon. He doesn’t even glance back at me as I walk out.

I glance out to the east. The sun is climbing in the sky, but it’s partially obscured as dark clouds gather.

“Dominic?”

“Wilford Smythe published an article this morning.” His cold, robotic tone frightens me.

I move behind him, rest a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even give any indication that he feels my touch. “Okay.”

He holds up his phone.

I take it and glance at the headline. My stomach drops. “Oh, dear God.”

I move to the chaise next to him and sit. I read the first few paragraphs quickly, then release a breath.