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Favorite Curse 140

Favorite Curse 140

140 Some Effort 

Lucian 

“It’s not going to be easy convincing her,” I told Darian, watching him try to piece together a plan in his head. “You really hurt that girl.” 

He didn’t argue. He couldn’t. 

“She went through this alone, Darian. Three months under her father’s roof, six months under ours-and during that time, you barely acknowledged her. Refused to stay in the same room. Ignored her like she was some burden to endure.” 

I shook my head, frustrated. 

“Mara’s barely a few weeks into her pregnancy, and I’ll tell you right now-it’s not easy. It’s exhausting, emotional, messy. And Tiffany had none of the support Mara’s getting. You left her to figure it out alone.” 

His eyes dropped. 

“You’ll need a lot more than promises to fix this. You’ll need a miracle,” I said bluntly. “That girl’s mind is made up.” 

I looked him dead in the eye. 

“You remember what Father always says-‘Stay relevant, or be replaced.’ Whether you like it or not, Tiffany has learned how to live without you. And in doing so, she’s realized she can. She’s strong now. Independent. The only reason she’s even considering staying is because Mara asked her to-not because she’s clinging to some hope of rekindling things with you.” 

Darian looked shaken. 

“Give me pointers, Lucian,” he said. “You won Mara’s heart. Help me win Tiffany’s.” 

I sighed. “The damage between Mara and me was never this deep. And even then, both of us were willing to try. I showed 

her love-from the start. From the wedding day, I stood by her.” 

I gave him a hard look. 

“You ignored Tiffany, Darian. I don’t even know where to begin. But if she gives you another chance, here’s what you do: 

love her out loud. Protect her. Keep her away from your mother and cousin-they’re poison. Defend her every time they try 

to chip away at her confidence. And if that means moving out of the Nighthorn mansion to avoid their daily drama, then d 

o it.” 

He nodded slowly. 

“Father isn’t the man he used to be. He won’t disown you. He can’t. If you need help getting a place like mine, I’ll help. But 

understand this-you’ve got six months, tops. Tiffany’s not sticking around longer than that without a reason.” 

He was quiet for a moment, then linked me mentally. 

“What if I marry and claim her?” 

I gave him a firm nod. “If she agrees-do it. But don’t use the marriage to fix what you broke. It has to come from you. Earn her trust. Prove yourself.” 

We headed back into the room. 

Mara and Tiffany were playing with the baby. The air was lighter somehow. Maybe it was hope. Maybe it was just the 

presence of life in that small bundle. 

1/3 

Darian didn’t waste time. He walked over and knelt beside Tiffany’s bed. 

“Please, Tiffany,” he said, voice steady but raw. “Don’t go yet. Give me a chance to redeem myself. I want to prove to you that I’m serious, this time, for real.” 

There was a long pause. Then, finally, she nodded. 

“Okay,” she said, reluctant but clear. “But I won’t stay in that mansion.” 

I exhaled. Whatever Mara said to her had worked. I’d ask later. 

“Fine,” I said. “We’ll go to the mansion, pack up your things, and bring you back to our place. From there, we’ll help you find 

your own space.” 

Mara smiled, full of quiet joy. 

“We knew you didn’t prepare for her arrival,” she said, “so we set up a nursery at our house. Everything’s ready there. We can move it all when you’re settled somewhere else.” 

Tiffany smiled at Mara, soft and genuine. 

And for the first time in a while, the room didn’t feel like it was filled with ghosts. It felt like the beginning of something 

new. 

“I’ll leave once my baby is eight months old,” Tiffany said to Mara, her voice calm but final. “Promise me you won’t try to 

stop me.” 

Mara hesitated. I could see the reluctance in her eyes. But eventually, she nodded. “I promise.” 

Eight months. That was all the time Darian had to earn back Tiffany’s trust, to prove he deserved a place in her life. I hoped he understood what a gift that time was… and that he wouldn’t waste it. 

Once Tiffany was discharged from the hospital, we took her straight to our home. Her wolf had done most of the healing work, so there was no need for extended observation. She was strong again, physically. Emotionally, it was another story. 

After settling her and Emma in, Darian and I drove to the Nighthorn mansion to pack up her belongings. 

Martha was waiting, arms folded like she’d been rehearsing this confrontation. 

“Where are they? Tiffany and my granddaughter?” she asked, her tone polite enough to pass, but that sharp edge was still there, always there. 

“In my house,” I said, meeting her gaze without flinching. “Tiffany doesn’t want to live here. She hates the breakfasts. She can’t stand the environment. It was either she moved out, or she left for good.” 

I didn’t wait for a reply. Just walked past her. 

My father, ever the master of strategic disengagement, simply returned to his office. He had bigger problems. Like Chase’ Nighthorn’. Tiffany’s presence-or absence-wasn’t high on his priority list. 

But Martha tried to make it about her. As always. I shut it down quickly and focused on the task at hand. We packed Tiffany’s things, and before we left, I gave Austin and Jason new instructions: fire every last member of the right-wing care staff. I explained why. No more negligence. No more silence. And I laid down new rules for hiring-this mistake wasn’t going to repeat itself. 

Back at our house, Mara had already prepared a room downstairs for Tiffany and Darian-close to the nursery. Tiffany made it clear she would sleep in the nursery with Emma. Darian, to his credit, didn’t argue. He said he’d take a separate 

room. 

Hopefully, that arrangement wouldn’t last long. Mara and I had agreed to delay finding them a permanent place. The 

2/3 

< 140 Some Effort 

tighter the quarters, the harder it would be for Tiffany to stay distant. Sometimes, proximity breeds healing. At least, we hoped so. 

She named her daughter Emma. Mara lit up at the name. It was simple. Beautiful. A name with warmth. 

I watched Darian closely in those first few days. He tried. Really tried. Every diaper, every bottle, every midnight cry-he was there. And I was proud of him. 

Most of all, he’d stopped looking at Mara the way he used to. That alone meant everything to me. His focus was where it should’ve been all along-on Tiffany and Emma. 

Tiffany, for her part, wasn’t warm. But she was civil. She didn’t shut him out entirely. That was something. They’d need 

time. We all knew that. 

A week later, we finally sat down for breakfast as a family. It felt strange-familiar and foreign at the same time. The toxic memories of those mansion breakfasts still lingered. We’d avoided this for so long, but today we had no choice. 

After the meal, we were scheduled to meet with a spy-someone we planned to hire to help us track Chase ‘Nighthorn’ and Alaric Moongrove. Chase was a looming threat to everything we were building. Alaric’s secrets could destroy Darian if they ever came to light. We needed to protect our family. Especially now that we were fathers. 

We’d just started eating when my phone buzzed. 

It was Austin. 

Tina is in labor. 

I looked across the table at Mara. 

And just like that, the next storm rolled in. 

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Score 9.9
Status: Ongoing Type: Native Language: English
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