The night air was calm when Grace walked into the garden.
The moonlight bathed the place in a soft glow. Donald stood by the fountain, hands in his pockets, staring at the water.
When he turned and saw her, his eyes softened.
"I didn't think you'd come," he said quietly.
"I saw your message," she replied. "You sounded… serious."
He took a few steps closer. "Grace, I've been serious since the first day you stepped into my company. I just didn't want to admit it, but I have fallen in love with you. "
She let out a shaky breath. "Donald, I'm investigating your company. If people see us together, they'll think I'm compromised. They'll say I sold out."
"I don't care what people say," he cut in. "Let them talk. I care about you."
Grace looked away. The world felt too complicated for something as simple as love.
"You can't just love me, Donald. Not like this. You don't even know everything about me."
"Then let me find out," he said, stepping closer until she could feel the heat of his breath. "Let me love you through it."
The garden fell silent. Only the sound of the fountain and their beating hearts filled the air.
Grace's chest rose and fell. When Donald reached out, she didn't pull away.
Their lips met, slow and uncertain at first, then deep and desperate, like they'd both been holding their breath for too long.
By the time they broke apart, Grace could barely think straight.
Donald brushed her cheek. "Come inside," he whispered.
They entered his room. The lights were dim.
Grace could feel her pulse in her throat as he kissed her again. His hand slid to her waist, but she caught it, gently stopping him.
"I can't," she said softly.
He paused, confused. "Did I hurt you?"
She shook her head. "No. It's not that. I can't... Umm I haven't..."
Donald blinked, shocked. "You?"
"Yes." She looked down, embarrassed. "I made a promise to myself. I won't let anything or anyone touch me until I find the truth. Until I expose everything."
Instead of pulling away, Donald smiled faintly. He place his hand under her jaw and lifted her head.
"Then I'll wait. However long it takes."
Something in his voice made her heart twist. For the first time in a long while, she felt safe.
That night, they lay on the same bed, not as lovers, but as two souls who had finally found peace in each other's presence.
The next morning, the sunlight slipped through the curtains.
Grace woke up first. Donald was still asleep beside her.
She started at him for a while, she smiled faintly.
She quietly stood up, her feet barely making a sound on the carpet.
Her eyes wandered around the room and landed on a large old photo album on the shelf.
Curiosity pulled her closer. She sat on the couch and opened it. The first page showed Donald as a baby. She smiled at the chubby cheeks, until her eyes caught something odd.
The background of the hospital photo wasn't the same as the one she had seen online during her investigation into the Cole's.
This one looked local, familiar. She frowned and turned another page.
There was a birth certificate tucked inside, Donald Cole, born in the country hospital, not abroad.
Mrs. Cole claimed Donald was born abroad through IVF.
Her heartbeat slowed.
That can't be right.
The date on the paper matched the exact day Mrs. Bernard and her son vanished.
Her hand trembled. She flipped back to the picture again, the eyes.
Those same eyes she had seen in Mrs. Bernard's son's picture. The same shape, the same color.
Her mind spun.
No… it can't be. It can't.
She closed the album quickly and pressed her hands against her face.
Donald is Bernard's son.
The realization hit her like cold water. What was she supposed to do now? Tell Donald? Pretend she didn't know?
She sat there, staring at him sleeping, feeling her chest tighten. The truth was right in front of her, yet her heart refused to accept it.
For the first time, Grace wished she hadn't opened that album.