Peter sat in his office, staring blankly at the contract in front of him, but the words blurred and twisted uselessly on the page.
He couldn't focus. Not today. Not after everything that had begun to spiral beyond his control.
Hazel.
Alexander.
And now... his father.
He ran a hand through his hair, breathing heavily.
The gnawing tension in his chest had only grown worse since the other night.
It was like a knife twisting deeper into his gut.
When Hazel first confronted him months ago, asking questions about his
mysterious phone call, his secretive meetings, the unknown nurse he claimed was
taking care of his "sick mother," he never imagined things would snowball like this.
It was supposed to be simple:
Lie. Protect her. Keep the past buried.
The woman Hazel met wasn't his mother. She had never existed.
It was a carefully constructed illusion, built to divert her suspicion.
And for a time, it worked. Hazel stopped digging, and Peter thought the nightmare was safely locked away. But now?
Now, Alexander was involved.
Peter couldn't prove it yet, but he wasn't blind.
The way Alexander had weaseled his way into Hazel's life was no coincidence.
The late-night meetups, the emotional conversations, Hazel's growing attachment to him — Peter could see it happening, and it terrified him.
Worse, there were signs. Subtle, but undeniable.
A few days ago, Peter had spotted Alexander exiting a private investigator's office—one Peter recognized instantly.
A place where his father, Richard Westwood, had quietly handled sensitive cases for years.
Then, last night, Peter received an anonymous text:
"The past never stays buried forever. Especially not with friends like Alexander."
His stomach had dropped.
How much does Alexander know?
Peter's mind reeled with the possibilities.
If Alexander discovered that Richard Westwood had manipulated Hazel's accident investigation... if Hazel found out Peter had lied to her about it for years...
She would never forgive him.
He had to act.
The following morning, Peter stood at Hazel's doorstep, clutching the small velvet
box tightly in his pocket as if his entire world depended on it — because, in truth, it did.
Hazel opened the door with a warm smile that pierced straight through him.
She looked radiant as always, though Peter noticed a new softness in her eyes lately — a glow he feared was no longer for him alone.
"Peter," she said softly. "What are you doing here so early?"
"I needed to see you," he said, forcing a calm smile, though his heart hammered violently inside his chest. "Can we talk?"
Hazel stepped aside, gesturing him inside.
The familiar scent of her lavender candles filled the air, calming and cruel all at once.
They sat down on the sofa. Peter's hand trembled slightly as he reached for her hand.
"Hazel," he began, his voice hoarse.
"I know things have... shifted between us lately.
And I take full responsibility for that.
I've made mistakes. I've kept things from you—things I thought were to protect you, but... maybe they only created distance between us."
Hazel's eyes darkened for a moment.
She didn't pull away, but Peter could feel the guarded wall behind her gaze.
"I know you've grown close to Alexander," Peter continued carefully, watching her reaction.
She stiffened slightly but said nothing.
"And... I respect your decisions, Hazel.
But I need you to know something — I love you. I've always loved you."
His breath caught as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small velvet box.
Slowly, he opened it to reveal a stunning diamond ring that sparkled under the soft morning light.
Hazel's eyes widened in pure shock.
"I don't want to lose you," Peter whispered. "Please, marry me."
The room fell into suffocating silence.
Hazel blinked rapidly, stunned. "Peter... I—"
"Before you answer," Peter interrupted, voice breaking, "please know this isn't about competition.
This isn't about Alexander or anyone else.
It's about us. You and me. What we've built together. What we've survived together."
Hazel's lip trembled. She didn't know how to respond.
Yes, Peter had been there for her through her darkest days.
Yes, part of her still loved him.
But the recent distance between them, the growing comfort she found in Alexander's company... it all left her confused.
"I... I need time," Hazel finally whispered.
Peter's stomach sank. "Of course," he managed to say, masking his panic. "Take all the time you need."
But inside, he felt as if his heart had cracked wide open.
He knew Alexander's hold was growing stronger every day. And time? Time only favored his rival.
Later that afternoon, Peter sat in his father's study.
Richard Westwood, as cold and calculating as ever, poured himself a scotch while Peter paced the room anxiously.
"You said this was handled," Peter snapped, unable to contain his frustration any longer.
"You told me we buried everything from the Brookes case."
"And we did," Richard answered coolly, swirling the glass. "But perhaps not deeply enough."
Peter clenched his fists.
"Alexander's sniffing around. He already knows something.
If Hazel finds out—"Then make sure she doesn't," Richard said, his voice dangerously calm.
"You're her fiancé now, aren't you? Control the narrative."
Peter flinched at the word fiancé. She hadn't even said yes.
"You think Alexander is just here for business?" Peter muttered bitterly.
"No. He's manipulating her. Earning her trust.
And he will use this to destroy me, to destroy us."
Richard's eyes narrowed coldly. "Then you better make sure you marry her before he does."
Peter looked away, dread flooding him.
He didn't just want to win Hazel back — he wanted to protect her.
But how could he protect her from this, when the truth itself was the poison?
The walls were closing in.
And soon, something would have to break.