SYNOPSIS�

There is no revenge more elegant than the one that doesn't seem like revenge. And there is no love more stubborn than the one that is born in the shadows and grows in silence.

Hanna Winter is one of the most powerful women on the planet: brilliant, inaccessible and owner of an empire built one book at a time. But under the armor of the CEO hides the nerdy girl, invisible, bullied and madly in love with Stephan Moreau, the golden boy who has never looked at her.

When he falls disastrously victim to a deception orchestrated by Mary - the wrong woman - Hanna seizes the opportunity. She saves him. But on her terms.

One year. One house. One contract. One child.

If in twelve months she can't make him fall in love, at least she will have her child.

Between clashes, passions, laughter and a past that comes back to the surface with force, Stephan will have to discover who Hanna really is... before it's too late.

A pact, a dance and a love that accepts no conditions.

HANNA

There is no revenge more subtle than the one that doesn't resemble revenge. And there is no love more stubborn than the one you've cradled in silence, forever.

My name is Hanna Winter. And I am one of the most powerful women in the world.

I became one because I had no other choice.

As a girl I was invisible: crooked teeth, thick glasses, always a book in my hand and a trembling voice. People called me "the nerd of 4B", and when I passed by in the hallways, they laughed. But I laughed inside: I laughed at the fact that they were content with momentary pleasures, while I built my empire one book at a time.

And then there was him.

Stephan Moreau.

He never noticed me, of course. How could he? He was the golden boy. Beautiful, confident, destined for a bright future as a famous architect. I never hated him for that. I simply... loved him from afar.

When Stephan became famous, I was already running my first company. When he won the international award for his glass skyscraper in Singapore, I had already started Vivaldi Security International. But I followed him. Always. Every interview, every step, every project. A silent but powerful stalker.

Then came Mary.

Beautiful, sneaky and with a big last name. Mary's father was the head of the Holding that managed the biggest contracts on the continent. He was cruel, competitive, ready to crush anyone. And Mary was his tool.

She seduced him, deceived him, involved him in a joint venture that seemed like a dream and turned into a nightmare. When Stephan signed those contracts, his company was already doomed to failure. It was all orchestrated. Mary left him a month before everything exploded. With a smile. And a new boyfriend.

I watched him fall.

And I could have enjoyed his downfall.

Instead, I saved him.

But in my own way.

I bought all his debts, bought out every unfinished project, talked to every bank and creditor. No one knew I was behind that maneuver.

Until the time came.

A contract. A year. A cohabitation. A child.

All or nothing.

If in a year I hadn't managed to make him fall in love with me, at least I would have a child left with the only man he'd ever loved.

Madness? Maybe. But when you've built an empire from nothing, you're no longer afraid to risk everything for what you truly desire.

What Stephan didn't know is that that nerdy girl had loved him with such silent ferocity that she became, for him, the only way to salvation.

And now it was up to him to find out who I really was.

?

Chapter 1 - The Proposal

Stephan -

It wasn't the first time that lawyers had called me, but that morning something was different. There were no threats, no aggressive tones. Just an elegant, black folder, with my name engraved in gold, waiting for me on the table of an office far too luxurious for a lawsuit.

"Mr. Moreau," said the man in the smoky gray jacket, with a studied smile and the voice of a man who never loses. "Miss Winter wants to offer you a chance."

I had no idea who the woman was. "Winter," it said something? but nothing specific.

"A chance?" I said coldly. "I don't need charity."

He opened the folder. Pages and pages. Clauses. Numbers. Then, calmly, he said the sentence that took my breath away.

"A year of living together. In exchange: the total cancellation of his debts, the salvation of his company, and a new beginning. On one condition: he wants a child with you."

I laughed. A bitter, incredulous, almost hysterical laugh. I thought it was a joke.

"He's out of his mind." I stood up, determined to leave.

"We understand," the lawyer said calmly. "But maybe before you refuse, you should think about all those employees who won't get paid this month. The families who are counting on you. The projects that will never come to fruition."

Her words stuck in my mind like thorns.

Stephan - That Night

At home, the apartment was quiet and too big for just one person. I looked at the piles of papers on the desk, the bills, the memories of my past as a successful architect, when I built dreams instead of fighting nightmares.

Mary's face came back to me. The fake smile, the slimy father. They had destroyed everything I had built, drained my company and smeared my name.

And now? this mysterious woman. Hanna Winter. Who the hell was she? And why did she want a child with me?

Maybe because, once, my name meant something.

Or maybe because, like me, she was desperate.

I poured myself a whiskey, but I didn't drink it.

During that sleepless night, I thought of my employees, the workers, the designers? And I accepted.

With anger. With suspicion. And with the hatred that only a humiliated man can feel.

?

Chapter 2 - The Pact

Hanna -

He signed.

Angrily, with a clenched jaw and eyes filled with a hatred I wished I hadn't seen. But he signed.

And that was all I needed.

I watched him in silence, hidden behind the glass of the office. The man I had loved for half my life was there, in the flesh. He was no longer the unattainable boy of my adolescence, the cover-page architect with the unbuttoned white shirt and the dreams in the drawings. He was a broken man, proud, beautiful and? angry.

Because of Mary.

She had made him believe she loved him, just to indulge her father's power games, a man I had studied piece by piece thanks to my security systems, until I discovered everything: the frauds, the rigged contracts, the ruined companies. Including Stephan's.

I could have destroyed Mary's father in an instant. But it wasn't time yet. I wanted to save Stephan first. And maybe try to make him love me.

Having a child was my plan B.

Because if he never returned my feelings, at least I would have something of his inside me.

But I didn't want to chain him down. I didn't want a husband. I wanted? a chance.

One in a million.

Stephan -

I arrived at Hanna Winter's house with two suitcases and a burning stomach.

The house seemed to have come out of an architectural dream: glass and wood, pure lines, surrounded by greenery, with a breathtaking view of the lake.

And she, there on the threshold, in a sand-colored dress and her hair tied in a perfect knot, seemed the owner of a world that did not belong to me.

"Welcome, Stephan," she said calmly.

No handshake. No smile. Just those eyes? too blue, too shiny, too full of things I could not read.

I entered.

The house was a work of art. Minimalist, warm, scented of jasmine and beeswax. Too perfect. Too far from everything I was.

"You have your own office, your own wing of the house, a gym, an indoor pool and all the space you want. You won't be asked for anything except?"

"Except to have a child with you," I cut in, acidly.

She didn't bat an eyelid.

"Only if you want to. It's not an obligation."

Her controlled, icy tone got on my nerves.

"Don't kid yourself, Hanna Winter. This is just a contract. And as soon as it expires, I'll be out of this house and out of your life."

She nodded. But her eyes told another story.

Chapter 3 - Living together between ice and fire

Hanna -

Living together with Stephan was a low-intensity war. Every day, every minute, it seemed like everything was destined to explode. And yet, it never happened.

We were two opposing forces, destined to collide every time our paths crossed. And it was all calculated. Every gesture, every word I uttered had a goal. To make him give in.

But I never imagined how difficult it would be. How frustrating it was. And how, against my will, I was starting to feel for him. My carefully constructed hatred for him was starting to melt away, like snow in the sun.

But he, Stephan, continued to drive me crazy. That cockiness of his, that air of superiority he had, despite being in ruins. Every day was a battle to maintain control, to not lose his cool. But something about him attracted me. That ironic smile, that way of looking at me as if I were a challenge to be won. And yet? he hated me.

He hated me as if I were the cause of all his troubles. And maybe I was, in fact.

?

Stephan -

The house was huge. And I had never hated a place so much. Every corner, every room seemed designed to remind me that I was a defeated man. Every step I took inside that palace weighed on me. And she, Hanna Winter, the ice queen, moved through the corridors with the grace of a panther.

I had agreed to her deal to save my company, but nothing prepared me for having to live under the same roof with her. I wasn't used to this. I wasn't used to her calm, her composure, her control.

Every time I saw her, I wanted to slam her against the walls, to make her lose her ice. But I couldn't. I had to keep calm. Until the end of the contract.

And yet, somehow, I couldn't hate her like I thought I could. I couldn't see just an opportunist. There was something more. A mystery, a shadow behind those too-blue eyes of hers.

I always wondered what was behind that perfection. Why was she always so calm, so collected, so? unapproachable. And why, despite the hatred I felt inside her, the thought of hurting her bothered me. As if she was the right thing, the thing I had to protect. But I couldn't. I couldn't, not now.

Hanna -

Our routine was like a stage. Every morning I got up early, made breakfast - obviously not for Stephan, since there was no request from him. But I needed to feel useful. For myself.

Then there was the housekeeper, an older woman who had managed to make everyone hate her. She was intrusive, chatty, but the most surprising thing was the way she appeared everywhere. Whenever Stephan and I had an argument, she would appear out of nowhere, with her "protective mother" air. And, even more annoying, she always seemed to know the perfect moment to intervene.

"You should eat more, Miss Winter," she would say to me, while Stephan, on the other side of the room, ignored me as if I wasn't even there.

I knew she was trying to get me to talk, to make me angry. But the truth was that her words, her indifference, hurt me. As if I had failed at something I should have done well.

Every night, though, there was always a formal dinner. And even though Stephan seemed irritated and grumpy, he never missed those nights.

One night, while we were eating, Lucas came in with a cheerful laugh and his usual smile.

"Hey, guys! Are you still here torturing each other?" he said with his usual cockiness.

Stephan looked at him like he didn't want to answer. But Lucas, who was a magnet for any kind of drama, had managed to ease the tension a bit.

Despite my best efforts to keep Stephan away from Lucas, I had to explain to him that he wasn't my lover, as Stephan seemed to have momentarily thought. Lucas was gay, and a true friend, but Stephan couldn't understand that.

That night was a series of hilarious jokes and unspoken tension. I tried to keep my cool, but the barbs between Stephan and Lucas almost made me laugh. When Stephan finally left, angry at Lucas's irony, my friend and I looked at each other and laughed.

"I don't know how you stand it," Lucas said.

"I don't know either," I replied, sighing. But there was a voice inside me that told me that the situation was changing, even if I didn't know how or why.

?

Chapter 4

The Party in Paris - Lights, Masks and Unspoken Truths

(Stephan)

I hadn't been back in years. And now here I was, in the city of lights and dreams, invited to a party I hadn't asked for, thrown by a woman I had promised I would hate.

The hotel was the kind you only see in movies or luxury catalogs: crystal chandeliers that seemed to float in the air, gilded walls, stucco everywhere, the scent of orchids and champagne, and a red carpet that rolled out like a promise. Or a trap. I still hadn't decided which one it was.

"Welcome, monsieur," a white-gloved ma�tre d' greeted me.

He didn't need to tell me who had paid for all this. I knew it. Hanna.

And yet? when I saw her, for a moment I forgot that I hated her.

She was at the back of the room, wearing a champagne-colored dress that seemed designed just for her. The bodice hugged her torso like a caress, her bare back like a whispered promise, and the silk fell in soft waves to the floor. A diamond sparkled at the base of her throat, but it was her gaze that took it all in: cold and incandescent at the same time. Like burning ice.

"That's not a woman. That's a declaration of war in evening dress," I muttered under my breath.

Next to me, Lucas laughed softly, dressed in a tuxedo trimmed with burgundy velvet. "She's more than a woman. She's Hanna. And you're in a lot of trouble, my dear."

I glared at him. "Don't start."

"Oh no, I'm not saying anything. But I saw her looking at you. Not with hatred, you know. More like? the way you look at a precious relic. One that's waited too long."

I shook my head. "It's just a game. A dirty contract. And I'm just a pawn."

"Of course. A pawn she wanted to save. And now she's acting tough with her savior."

I ignored him. Or tried to.

The party was a whirlwind of crystals, live orchestra music, people in unbelievable outfits and equally fake smiles. Dinner took place at long tables adorned with two-foot-high flower arrangements. Stephan, once a famous architect, now a debtor under contract, sat among movie stars and oil princesses.

And her. Always her.

Hanna was regal, controlled, brilliant. Every word weighed, every smile a riddle. She wasn't human. She was a work of art under glass.

Then the orchestra struck up a waltz.

A wave of silk and perfume approached me. Hanna. Standing in front of me, she held out her hand.

"Will you dance with me, Stephan?" Her voice was low. Determined. Inescapable as the moon.

I wanted to say no. I should have. But my hand moved on its own.

I held her close. And the world disappeared.

The waltz wrapped around us like a spell. Her hand in mine was warm, her back a taut bow under my guidance. Our breathing intertwined. Her eyes rose to mine in silent challenge.

"You can dance," she said softly.

"I had a very strict mother. She forced me to learn."

"You should thank her."

I smiled. It was a dangerous game. But in that moment, I would have danced with her even on the edge of hell.

"And you? Where did you learn to enchant like that?"

"To hide," she answered. And something in her eyes changed for a second. A crack in the ice.

When the waltz ended, I didn't let go of her right away. Her skin was still warm under mine. And I? I didn't want it to end.

She looked at me. She didn't say anything. But there was an ancient pain in her eyes.

I had to leave. Breathe.

I walked away through the corridors of the main floor and found myself on a terrace that looked out over all of Paris. Far from the lights, the music, her. And yet? still with her on top of me.

And that's when I heard the voices.

"Hanna, are you sure you don't want to tell him?"

It was Lucas. His voice was more serious than usual.

"No, Lucas. He mustn't know. No one must. Not yet."

"But he might understand you. If only he knew that you created that network from scratch?"

"So what? It would be pity. Compassion. Not love."

I held my breath.

"You saved thousands of kids, Hanna. Nerds, victims, outsiders. Like you were. You built a national network. And all this while running a cybersecurity empire. You're a damn silent heroine."

"And yet he won't know. To him, I'll just be the woman who bought his soul so she could have a child."

My heart stopped.

Who the hell was Hanna Winter, really?

The woman I hated. The woman who was getting under my skin. The woman who was, maybe, changing everything.

?

Chapter 5 - Breakfasts and Cold Wars

[Stephan]

It was the third time in four days that I'd found my coffee decaf. I hate decaf.

"It's a conscious choice for your mental and physical well-being," the housekeeper told me that morning, in a haughty tone, pouring it for me with the air of someone who was serving me dragon's blood.

"It's a criminal choice," I said, staring at the cup as if it might rebel on its own.

She raised an eyebrow. "The same thing I say about your unkempt beard, Monsieur Moreau."

I had lost count of how many times I had tried to leave that house. Each time I remembered the contract. And the millions. And the families of my employees. And my pride? already trampled.

Hanna seemed to appear and disappear like a sophisticated shadow. She had a knack for not being there when I had something to say and being there when I said something stupid.

"It's not my fault the sink leaks!" I yelled in the kitchen one night, trying to deal with a leak with a dishcloth.

"Tell that to the gasket, architect," she said from behind me, surprising me. She was wearing a champagne-colored silk shirt, too fancy for indoors, and she was carrying a glass of red wine.

"I'm not a plumber."

"I'm not a nanny either, and yet I survive."

"Oh, so that's it? We're both prisoners in this sitcom?"

"I'm the producer, Stephan. You're just the lead who hasn't read the script yet."

She stared at me for a moment. Then she walked out of the kitchen, leaving a trail of perfume and the clatter of her heels in her wake. Damn her.

I mutter every curse word I know and even a few I made up on the spot

"Stop being such a baby, Stephan, and fix that leak."

"It's not polite to eavesdrop."

"It's not eavesdropping if I can hear you from the living room."

"And it's not murder if you trip and fall on a knife," I snap back angrily

"Stephan, Stephan?you flooded the kitchen and now you have to clean up, too."

[Hanna]

I laughed. Silently, but I laughed.

Watching him struggle with the sink leak had been the funniest scene of the week, second only to when he tried to figure out how to wash the delicate cycle at the laundromat and ended up in baby pink boxers.

Lucas kept teasing him. "Stephan, honey, can I recommend a cream for dark circles under your eyes? It makes you look like a panda having an existential crisis."

"Are you always this cute?" he replied, coldly.

"Only to people who intrigue me. And no, you're not my type." Lucas winked. "But it's so much fun to watch you freak out."

It was like living in a reality show with a crazy cast.

One night I caught him talking on the phone to a former partner. His voice was cracking, and there was an angry sweetness to him that threw me off.

"I know, Patrice? I'm trying to save everything. No, I can't explain. Not now. But trust me, please."

I retreated in silence. Whenever I tried to remember why I'd signed that contract - whenever doubt assailed me - all I had to do was look at him at times like these.

He still had a light. Sporadic, but it was there.

The real war wasn't between us. It was inside him.

Chapter 6 - Off-key Notes and the Truth in a Quiet Voice

[Stephan]

It was almost eleven o'clock at night when I returned to the villa, exhausted from an interminable video conference with my lawyers. I needed silence, but the house seemed strangely alive. The lights in the living room were dim, filtered by plum-colored velvet curtains. A scent of vanilla floated in the air. And then? the voice.

A voice.

Low, velvety, slightly hoarse but incredibly warm.

I approached slowly, driven by curiosity. And there it was. Hanna Winter, the ice queen herself, was singing. She was singing with her eyes closed, in front of the piano, an old jazz piece - "At Last" - with a voice that seemed to come from another life. She was wearing a loose sweater and dark leggings. Her hair was loose, her face was free of makeup. She was not the cold woman I knew. She was someone else. Real.

And beautiful.

I leaned against the door and remained silent.

Then - because my karma was that of a cartoon - my phone vibrated.

She whirled around. "What the hell??"

"I? didn't mean to disturb. I swear."

"Are you spying now?" She blushed. Hanna Winter, the woman who had silenced ministers on calls, had blushed.

"No. Just? curious."

She stared at me. Then she snorted and went back to the piano. "I didn't know anyone was home."

"I didn't know you could sing like that."

"I don't sing. I relax."

"Your voice gives me goosebumps."

She stiffened. "It doesn't do any good."

"It's an icebreaker."

Silence.

Then she smiled. A half smile, almost imperceptible. But it was there. And it hit me more than anything else.

[Hanna]

I swore to myself that he would never - never - see me as fragile. And yet there I was, my voice still shaking and my hands searching for the right keys as Stephan Moreau looked at me as if he had seen a mirage.

"You didn't expect a friendless nerd to be able to sing, did you?" I said softly.

"I expected a perfect, impenetrable woman. Not a voice like that."

"Then you know nothing about me."

"I'm learning."

He stood there. He didn't go away.

I reached for another sheet of music. "Do you know any?"

He laughed. "I can barely read the notes."

"Then sit down. I'll teach you. But no stupid jokes."

And he did. He sat down next to me, awkward, unsure. And for the first time since he had come into the house, he seemed? human. Someone who had lost so much and was clinging to every chance to stay afloat.

I liked it that way.

So true.

?

Chapter 7 - The Night That Burns

[Stephan]

I couldn't sleep. The house was silent, the kind of darkness that makes you think too much. I felt an inexplicable agitation. Hanna was different. Ever since I'd caught her singing, something in her had cracked - or maybe it was me seeing her for the first time, really.

I grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and, passing by the glass that looked out onto the lit pool, I saw her.

And I almost dropped the glass.

She was swimming slowly under the moonlight, naked as mother nature had made her. Her long hair loose, her shoulders shining, her body smooth. She wasn't the glossy image in a magazine. She was flesh, water, and fire. And completely alone.

She was about to get out of the pool when she turned and saw me.

"Christ!" she whispered, instinctively covering herself, then realized it was too late. "Do you? always spy on naked people at night?"

"I swear it was an accident. But? definitely the best one of my life."

She laughed, incredulous. "Are you going to leave or? do you want applause?"

"I want to stay."

The silence between us became electric.

"You said you hated this house," she said, placing her wet feet on the stone edge. "That you hated me."

"Maybe I didn't really know you."

She came closer, dripping wet, unafraid. And I, without thinking, offered her the towel. But she didn't take it. She just stared at me.

"If I kiss you now, I won't be nice."

"I never asked for niceness."

And I kissed her.

It was everything: honey and anger, hunger and sweetness. A year of tension condensed into that moment. Her hands were shaking. Mine were everywhere.

I picked her up without a word and carried her to the bedroom. The lights were low, the sheets were cold, but our skin was hot.

When I reached for her softest part, she hesitated. "Wait?"

I stopped.

"I've never done this."

I froze. "Never?"

She shook her head. "I've never wanted anyone. Except you."

The world stopped spinning for a second.

I sat down next to her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you thought I was a monster. And because I didn't want to make you look ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" I stroked her face. "Hanna Winter, you are the most incredible woman I've ever met. I just don't know if you're real."

"I am. But in pieces."

"Then let me pick them up."

And I loved her.

For a long time.

With shaking fingers and ragged breaths. It wasn't perfect. It was real. Every insecurity of hers, every question of mine, every rustle between the sheets became sacred. And when I felt her body surrender to mine, with a sigh that seemed like a beginning, I understood that something inside me had changed forever.

She slept, naked and fragile at my side, and I stayed awake to watch her. Because there was something that still didn't make sense to me. Why had a woman like her - beautiful, powerful, desired - remained a virgin for me?

And why did I want her to be so simply? just what she seemed?

CHAPTER 8 - DAYS ON THE ISLAND

Narrator: Stephan Moreau

The island seemed to have come out of a dream. White sand, turquoise waters that shone in the sun, and that colonial-style villa, elegant and minimalist, was more of a sanctuary of peace than a home. I would never have imagined that a woman like Hanna Winter owned such a paradise. And even less would I have imagined that I would find myself there? with a skittish boy and a woman who, day after day, made me lose my mind.

Samuel. We had taken him away almost in secret. And Hanna had not told me anything, not right away. Only that we were leaving for "a vacation." And then, at the airport, we had found that child. Eleven, maybe twelve years old. Very thin, with eyes as black as ink, staring at the ground. He had the look of someone who had seen too much and said little.

At first it was a nightmare. Samuel ignored us both. He didn't eat, he didn't answer questions, he slept fully dressed, curled up in a corner of the room Hanna had assigned him. I was puzzled, annoyed. "What is this, a charity project?" I asked Hanna on the second day, sounding irritated.

She just looked at me. "It's a life that needs saving."

It wasn't until later that I learned the truth.

It was Lucas who made me blurt out, "Do you even know who that boy is? Or did you miss that, too?"

Mary's half-brother. His father's illegitimate son. A man who, while building empires with ruthless methods, impregnated a young woman and then abandoned her with a newborn to raise. Samuel's mother had recently died. Cancer. No relatives. Nothing. Just him.

And Hanna had found out through her channels - her security company, her computer network, her sources. She could have used that information to blackmail Mary. Instead, she chose to save Samuel.

"Do you have any idea what it means to have immense power and use it for something right?" she had said to me one night, when I had confronted her on the terrace of the villa. "I know. Because I have been like him. Invisible. Unloved. Mocked. And if it hadn't been for Lucas? I don't know where I would have ended up."

Her words stuck in me like nails. And from that moment, I began to really see her.

?

The days passed.

Little by little, Samuel changed. Hanna, of course, was the first to earn his trust. With small gestures. She always left a cup of hot chocolate in front of his door every night. She left books on his bedside table without saying anything. One day, we found him in the kitchen making pancakes. He burned them all. But Hanna ate them as if they were the dish of a star chef.

With me, it was more difficult. But one night, I found him on the pier. Sitting, barefoot, looking at the sea. I sat down next to him, in silence. He didn't say anything. But he didn't get up. And it was a beginning.

The days went by, with swims at dawn, dinners under the stars, improvised card games. Stephan and Samuel built a raft together. Ridiculous, but functional. Hanna watched them from afar, with a full and tender smile, almost maternal.

And then? the night.

Between Hanna and me, passion had started to spread again. Every night was a journey. Her sighs, her hands trembling against my skin, the way she whispered my name? it was as if the world was turning off, and only we were left. I wanted her, more and more. And I knew that something in me was changing. I was falling in love. And it scared me as much as it made me crazy with joy.

?

One evening, Hanna was on the porch with Lucas. Samuel was sleeping. I overheard them talking.

"You did all this for him, right?"

"Also. But mostly for myself. Because I want to be the one he would have wanted to meet when I was twelve. And if Stephan leaves? well, at least Samuel will have someone."

"And if Stephan doesn't leave?"

"Then? I might start to really believe it."

I stood there, frozen in the shadows, unable to move.

I had underestimated Hanna. Again. And I realized something: she wasn't just a powerful woman. She was a survivor. A healer.

?

The next day, as we walked along the beach, I asked her. "Why didn't you tell me right away who you were and who you've always been?"

She stopped. Barefoot, her hair tousled by the wind, her gaze direct.

"Because you wouldn't have believed me. In high school, you had Mary, you had everything. I? was an extra. When I called to warn you about Mary, you laughed in my face. Remember?"

Yes. I remembered. A voice on the phone, one night at a party. I laughed. I thought it was a joke.

A lump formed in my throat.

"What now?" I asked.

She smiled. "Now I don't want to lie anymore. But I want you to choose to stay. For me. For Samuel. Because you feel at home, and not because you have to."

The silence thickened.

Then I took her hand. "Could you at least pretend you're not always one step ahead?"

She laughed. "Never."

CHAPTER 9 - THE RETURN

Narrator: Hanna Winter

The silence of the island had given way to the constant hum of the city. Milan was gray, frenetic, punctual in bringing people back to reality. As the private jet landed, I looked at Stephan and Samuel sitting next to each other, both absorbed. We had left paradise and I felt that something was about to change.

Samuel would be staying with us for a while. I had made sure that his temporary adoption was legally watertight. Stephan had silently approved, almost gratefully. But I knew he was fighting something inside.

Lucas was waiting for us at the exit, wearing a bright pink coat and two miniature chihuahuas that were shivering in the morning cold. Samuel rolled his eyes. "No. Not those dogs again."

Stephan held back a laugh. Lucas greeted him with a fake kiss on the cheek and a "What a tan, Moreau. Did you use sunscreen or did you cover yourself in Hanna's juice?"

Samuel burst out laughing. I glared at him, Stephan did too. But we were all laughing. For a moment, we seemed like an unlikely family.

?

The days at home were strange. The palace seemed too big after the island. Samuel often locked himself in his room. Stephan spent hours in the office, nervous, restless. Something had changed, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

One night, while I was cooking - yes, I was cooking, under the scandalized gaze of the housekeeper - Stephan came into the kitchen and grabbed my butter-slicked hands.

"What are you doing?"

"Samuel's banana muffins. Stop looking at me like I'm building a bomb."

"It's just? weird. You cooking."

"It relaxes me. And you need to relax."

He moved closer. His breath was hot on my skin. "I have another way of relaxing."

His hands rested on my hips, he pulled me close. Those muffins never arrived. And the kitchen became our battlefield. Too bad the housekeeper came in screaming: "The oven is on! The oven! And you? oh my God!"

?

But underneath the surface, something was boiling. Stephan was restless. One evening, I saw him reading a file on my bookshelf. It was one of my secret files, the ones on Mary and her father.

"Did you really do all this?" he asked.

"I did it for Samuel. And for you too."

"Why? Why do you care so much about me?"

I moved closer. "Because I never stopped. Not even when you couldn't see me. And now that you do, I want you to choose."

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Then it happened.

A charity event, organized by me, for the national network against bullying.

Everything was perfect: dim lights, illustrious guests, young people telling stories of redemption, Lucas overseeing every detail with creative hysteria.

And then she appeared. Mary.

Beautiful, dressed in blood-red silk. She approached Stephan as if nothing had happened, took his arm, whispered something to him. I saw him stiffen.

I approached. She looked at me and smiled. "Hanna Winter. Always impeccable. What, now you collect orphans too?"

Samuel, hiding behind a table with a glass of juice, heard her. His eyes filled with anger.

Stephan pushed her away. "Go away."

"Oh, Stephan. You've never been good at choosing women. But you've always been good at letting yourself be screwed."

A few minutes later, Samuel disappeared. We found him locked in the bathroom, his knuckles bloody. He had hit a mirror. Stephan squeezed him hard. I called a doctor. But the worst damage was inside.

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Later, in my room, Stephan screamed. "Why didn't you tell me before? That Mary was like this. That her father was a monster. That Samuel was her brother!"

"I didn't tell you right away because I didn't want you to think I was doing it out of revenge. I wanted to save you. And save Samuel. That's all."

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He ran a hand through his hair. He looked at me. He saw me.

"I fell in love with you. But I don't know if I can forgive myself for not seeing you sooner."

I took his face in my hands. "Then start now. Look at me. See me."

And for the first time, he let go. Completely.

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CHAPTER 10 - Lies, Champagne, and? Angry Chihuahuas

[Stephan's POV]

"What the hell?"

It's all I can say when I wake up on a leather couch, my eyes bleary, my head pounding like a rock band is rehearsing there. The lights are low, there's a smell of champagne and something that tastes like? hazelnut?

I get up slowly. I'm still dressed, thankfully, but my shirt is unbuttoned and my watch is off. Something's wrong.

Memories are jumbled. A work party thrown by one of the financial backers of the new partnership. Lots of toasts. Too many. Then? a woman. Someone I didn't know. Too beautiful. Too available. Eyes like traps and a smile programmed to seduce. She offered me a glass. I remember. Then darkness.

"You idiot." A familiar voice. Lucas. He stands in the doorway, his arms crossed and his ever-present chihuahuas clinging to his pants like they're trying to tear a human calf. "You just dodged the disaster of the century."

"What?" I stammer. "What the fuck happened?"

"Mary. One of her friends dressed as a stewardess poured something in your drink. I saw you stagger, I followed her. And your high-class siren happens to be a former model who now works for a high-end escort agency. You had such a good ass that I got here in time."

My blood runs cold. Mary.

"Is that her?"

Lucas nods. "I was there by accident. Or rather, I was there to check. I didn't trust her. And I was right."

[POV: Hanna]

My housekeeper bursts in like a tornado. "Miss Winter! Here we go! There's a woman in a black bikini and high heels screaming in the driveway and she wants to see Stephan!"

"What?"

"And I already got oil and flour. I won't run away this time."

I run down the stairs. Outside, Mary looks like she stepped out of a badly shot movie: runny makeup, broken heels, wet dress? and her eyes. Eyes full of hate and vengeance. Samuel is behind me, confused. Lucas, as always, arrives at the right time.

"She tried to frame him. Again."

And then it all happens at once. The housekeeper throws a pot of oil (luckily not boiling) and a bag of flour in her face, making her a kind of living statue of human incompetence. Mary screams, slips into the fountain, and, as if it were perfectly choreographed, Lucas's chihuahuas spring up and chase her dress as if it were stuffed with sausage.

Samuel laughs. He laughs heartily. And I watch him, my heart exploding.

[Stephan's POV]

When I get back to her, Hanna is sitting on the porch, still in her robe, her hair down and a cup of tea in her hand. Samuel is next to her, with a smile I've never seen before.

"Did you know everything?" he asks calmly.

"Yes. Lucas told me. But what about the press?"

"It's all over the internet. The videos. The witnesses. Even the documents that prove the agency. Mary is finished. And her father too."

I look at her. Beautiful as I've never seen her. Strong. Clear-headed. Proud. But also fragile, behind that icy shell that melts every time Samuel takes her hand.

"You know what I don't understand?" I say. "Why do you do this? Why don't you just give a damn, like everyone else?"

Hanna smiles bitterly. "Because I was like Samuel. Invisible. Made fun of. Broken inside. And no one did anything. Now I can do something. And I do."

Samuel looks at us. Then he gets up, comes to me and takes my hand. It's the first time. His eyes are no longer scared. They are full of trust.

"I want to stay with you." he whispers. "I want to stay... with my family."

[POV: Hanna]

My heart is pounding in my throat. I don't have the courage to speak. Stephan turns to me. We stare at each other for long seconds.

And then, finally, he smiles.

But something inside me is changing. A heartbeat, an instinct. And I understand it. The delay. The signs.

I'm pregnant.

And I still don't know how to tell him.

But I know that now... they're my family.

And I'll never leave them again.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN - The Ghost in the Living Room

[POV: Hanna]

I run a hand over my flat stomach, still in disbelief. The test is there, at the bottom of the drawer, hidden like a secret too precious to be shared. Again.

Stephan has gone out with Samuel for their usual afternoon round, to choose plants for the greenhouse. I watch them from afar often, in silence. Samuel clings to him as if he were his superhero, and Stephan? he doesn't say it, but he is viscerally fond of him.

And I? I'm about to tell them that there are three of us. Or rather? four.

But the ring at the door paralyzes me.

The housekeeper yells: "Hanna! You won't believe it! That bastard is back!"

I run upstairs and see him: Jacques Duval, Mary's father. Arrogant, stiff, with a gray coat and eyes like stones.

"Miss Winter?" he says slowly. "I advise you to stop sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong."

I don't bat an eyelid. "You abandoned your son, Jacques. Samuel is no longer alone. Now he has me. And Stephan."

He smiles mischievously. "It won't last. Do you really think that love is enough to protect him? I can destroy you all. A complaint here, a rumor there? and his glass castle will collapse."

The housekeeper comes up behind him. With a rolling pin. In a bathrobe and slippers, with flour on her hands and the fury of housewives who have seen too much in their eyes. "Take one step, just one. And I swear I'll throw the rolling pin into your? assets."

He, disconcerted, takes a half step back. Lucas enters the scene at that moment, with the chihuahuas armed with glitter collars and mini capes.

"Hi, Jacques. Did you know that the footage of your heated threat just ended up on the cloud? Or do you prefer that I send them directly to the prosecutor's office?"

The man huffs, turns on his heel, and walks away. But first he looks at me.

"This isn't going to end well, Hanna. And it's not over yet."

[POV: Stephan]

When I return with Samuel, I find him in Hanna's arms. He's crying. But not from fear. From relief. From affection. From bonding.

And I... am ready to tell her that I love her. I feel it. I know it. Every part of me recognizes it. And yet she has a strange look in her eyes. As if she's about to tell me something that could change everything.

"Stephan..." she whispers. "We need to talk."

At that moment, the phone rings.

It's Mary.

On the screen, a video. Of me. At the party. On drugs. In poses that could destroy everything.

She laughs, on the other end. "Either you pay me, or I'll air it all."

Hanna looks at me. And she understands. She doesn't say anything.

Then she turns to Samuel and says in a firm voice, "Get ready, my little one. It's time to be brave."

[POV: Samuel]

I don't understand everything. But I know that something has changed.

That evening, as we are about to have dinner, Hanna receives a notification. A new video online. But not Mary's. A completely different one.

It's Lucas. With detailed editing, legal explanations, testimonies and recordings. Everything. Mary and her father's entire plan.

The Internet explodes.

Mary is arrested at the airport while trying to escape. Her father is charged. And the truth? the truth wins.

[Stephan's POV]

The house is quiet again.

Samuel sleeps between us, collapsed after a day too intense.

Hanna takes my hand and guides it to her belly. "There's another little person who wants to join this strange family, Stephan."

My heart stops. Then it speeds up.

"A child?"

She nods. "Yes."

And then she adds, "And that's not the only thing I want from you."

"What?"

"A year ago I made you an offer. But now I want to make another one. This time... without a contract."

And I... don't answer.

I kiss her.

The answer is all there.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN - The Light After the Chaos

[Stephan's POV]

The house is wrapped in a new silence. A silence that feels like peace.

Samuel runs into the garden with one of Lucas's chihuahuas, now his faithful companion. He laughs. He laughs like I've never heard him laugh. A full, free laugh. Without fear.

And I look at him, with my hands in my pockets, my heart swollen.

Hanna is lying in a hammock, a book resting on her belly that is now just starting to get round.

A son.

The family I didn't know I wanted.

He smiles at me. I reach her and stroke her hair. "You win, Winter," I murmur. She laughs. "I never wanted to win. I just wanted to save you."

Then she looks me in the eyes. "But now I want something."

"Tell me."

"May you be happy."

And I am. Because I'm not afraid anymore.

[POV: Hanna]

We moved to Paris for a few days, to my house overlooking the Seine, for the gala of the "Voci Unheard" foundation. The anti-bullying network that I founded years ago, in silence, is finally being publicly recognized.

Lucas takes me to the mirrored room of the Ritz Hotel, where hundreds of young nerds, outcasts and misunderstood geniuses have gathered to tell their rebirth. Some have become developers, others teachers, others writers. All saved, in some way, by a word, by help. By my team.

Stephan is there. He looks at me from afar, his eyes full. He is wearing a tuxedo that fits him as if he were born to wear it.

And when I get closer, he shakes my hand.

"I want to build something with you. A refuge. A home. Not just for us? but for others. For Samuel. For those like him."

I kiss him. The room applauds. The lights dim. The music begins.

And the waltz we dance is not just a dance. It's a promise.

[Stephan's POV]

Two weeks later, we're all home. Samuel has painted a mural on the hallway wall. There's a castle, a knight? and a woman with a crown made of binary code.

"Is that her, right?" I ask.

"It's Hanna. The queen of nerds," he replies with a shy smile.

I hug him.

Then an envelope arrives. White. Sealed.

Inside, there's a handwritten letter. It's from my mother. I haven't seen her in twenty years. She says she followed everything. That she ran away from my father to protect me. That she's proud of me.

And that she wants to meet Hanna.

I look at her. She looks at me.

And then at Samuel.

"We're a strange family," I say. "But real."

[POV: Hanna]

The day I give birth, there is a storm outside. But inside the room, only warmth. Stephan holds my hand, Samuel strokes my hair.

"What name do you want to give her?" Stephan asks, kissing my forehead.

I look at him. "Ingrid. Like my grandmother. She taught me that even a little girl with braces and glasses can become a queen."

And Stephan nods. "Ingrid Winter Moreau. The queen of codes."

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EPILOGUE - One year later

The sun filters through the curtains of our house.

Samuel is on the couch with Lucas, programming a video game about two ninja chihuahuas.

The housekeeper is in the garden chasing a courier who dared to leave the package on the perfectly trimmed hedge.

Stephan hands me the coffee.

And little Ingrid is sleeping in his arms.

I look at all this and smile.

A year ago I just wanted to save a man.

Today I have a family.

And the rest of the world? It can wait.

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