As he turns 80, the unstoppable Rod Stewart – who confesses that for him the ‘fountain of youth’ is in the form of his eight children – is showing no signs of slowing down

With his headline Glastonbury slot certain to be one of the must-see events of the summer, it’s hard to believe that rock legend Sir Rod Stewart celebrates his 80th birthday this week, as OK! reports. The spiky-haired singer reaches the milestone on 10 January, but shows no sign of giving up the 60-year career that has seen him sell a whopping 120 million records globally. “I have no desire to retire,” Rod declared on Instagram in November.

“I’m fit, have a full head of hair and can run 100 metres in 18 seconds at the age of 79.” Rod’s birthday celebrations are being overseen by his wife Penny Lancaster, who previously said she was planning a series of special events that would last “several weeks”. The Essex-based pair are believed to have spent Christmas at their home in Palm Beach, Florida, before sailing to the Caribbean in time for the big day.

The spiky-haired star is performing at Glastonbury this summer ( 
Image:
WireImage)

It’s fair to assume they will be joined for the festivities by several of Rod’s eight children, including his and 53-year-old Penny’s sons Alastair, 19, and Aiden, 13, as well as his four daughters and two sons from former relationships: Sarah, 61, Kimberly, 45, Ruby, 37, Renee, 32, Sean, 44, and Liam, 30. Rod’s three grandchildren, Delilah, 13, and Otis and Louie, who are both 19 months, are also likely to be part of the fun. Known affectionately as the “Rodfather” by his extended clan, Rod once told how the age gaps between his children means being “several different fathers” all at once.

But having a large, blended family keeps him young at heart too, and he has said, “If there’s a fountain of youth, it’s children.” Even today, lifelong Celtic fan Rod is known to enjoy playing football with his brood, saying recently, “I’ve always played soccer, and I still do. I play with my kids as well. I keep myself really fit. I work out a bit. I’m mad about nutrition, watching my weight and everything. So I do work at it, and I think that helps a lot.”

Despite being 27 years younger than her husband, former model and Loose Women presenter Penny has revealed that Rod keeps her on her toes, too. “He’s a workaholic and constantly on the move,” she has said. “I struggle to keep up with his training schedule. He works out three or four times a week — even on tour.” The couple first met in 1999 when Penny was a photographer and Rod agreed to let her take photos of him on tour.

At the time, he was separated from model and actress Rachel Hunter, his second wife and mother of his children Renee and Liam. Before that, Rod was married to actress Alana Stewart, mother to Kimberly and Sean. Devoted Rod has called third wife Penny “the most gorgeous woman I have ever had in my life” and proposed to her at the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris in March 2005. “I opened the box and he had bought me the most amazing princess-cut diamond engagement,” she later recalled. “It was classic and striking. I was stunned, threw my arms around him, and burst into tears.”

Penny is 27 years younger than Rod but ‘struggles’ top keep up with his routine ( 
Image:
Getty Images for Wolfie’s Whisky/The Barbershop Las Vegas)

The pair married in Portofino in 2007 ( 
Image:
Daily Record)
They married in Portofino in Italy in 2007, before an intimate gathering of close family and friends. Last June, when they celebrated their 17th wedding anniversary and more than two decades as a couple, Rod wrote on social media, “25 years together and no red flags.” With their relationship remaining as strong as ever, Penny has said, “Rod and I can have dinner in a crowded room or just the two of us — we always have eyes for each other.”

Meanwhile, when she took part in Strictly in 2007, she revealed how Rod would get jealous while watching her spinning around the dance floor with partner Ian Waite. “I’ve lost my wife, she’s in the arms of another man,” he’d say. “She’s spending five to six hours a day with another man.” Away from the cameras, Penny — who joined the City of London police in 2021 as a special constable — has told how Rod helped her cope with the “inferno” of menopause, which affected her so badly she would even throw plates of food across the kitchen.

She was initially misdiagnosed with depression, but Rod’s support ensured she sought the proper medical treatment. He also encouraged her to call out TV presenter Gregg Wallace, who recently stepped down from MasterChef after a series of allegations about inappropriate behaviour. On social media, Rod branded the host a “tubby, bald-headed, ill-mannered bully” over his dealings with Penny on the celebrity version of the BBC series in 2021, adding, “Good riddance Wallace… You humiliated my wife when she was on the show, but you had that bit cut out, didn’t you?”

Addressing the situation on Loose Women, Penny told how Rod gave her the confidence to speak out. “Once you have the backing and support of other people, you feel like you’re going to be listened to,” she said. Over the years, Rod has become increasingly outspoken and has taken on all kinds of issues, including the poor condition of roads near his home. In March 2022, he was filmed filling potholes with a shovel, while wearing a tracksuit and high-vis vest. “

This is the state of the road near where I live in Harlow and it’s been like this for ages,” he wrote on Instagram. In February 2023, the kind-hearted star paid for a day’s worth of MRI scans for patients at the Princess Alexandra Hospital in Essex, saying he was “heartbroken” by the struggles of the NHS and that people were “dying because they cannot get scans”.

Rod was given his first guitar at 15, and went on to join The Faces ( 
Image:
Redferns)

Rod has a big brood when they all get together
Born in Highgate, London, in 1945 to Scottish father Robert and English mother Elsie, Rod was the youngest of five children, and once described his childhood as “fantastically happy”. After being given his first guitar at the age of 15, he would regularly go busking to earn cash. He played in several successful bands including the Dimensions and the Faces, but it was as a solo singer that his career really took off, with Maggie May bringing his first No.1 in 1971. Rod has had 10 No.1 albums and 31 Top 10 singles, and in 2019, he became the oldest male to hit the top of the album chart with You’re In My Heart with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.

But his life has not always been easy, and he has fought cancer twice. In 2000, he had surgery for thyroid cancer which left him needing to relearn to sing. Then in 2016, he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, before being given the all-clear in 2019. His experiences mean he is a passionate campaigner for the City of Hope Foundation, which aims to find a cure for cancer. In 2020, Rod also revealed that he had undergone a knee replacement and ankle fusion surgery after a football injury.

But with an upcoming residency at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas, he’s unlikely to give up his snake-hipped moves on stage. “I don’t see any possibility of slowing down anytime soon,” says Rod, whose latest album Swing Fever with Jools Holland was released last February. “As I get older, I only really want to do things that give me great pleasure.”

When his Glastonbury appearance was announced in November, Rod told how he was “absolutely thrilled” on Instagram, adding, “After all these years, I’m proud and ready and more than able to take the stage again to pleasure and titillate my friends at Glastonbury in June. I’ll see you there!”

However, the flamboyant rocker does recognise that he has had to slow down in recent years, saying in an interview last summer, “I’m not like I was in the 70s and 80s and I can’t stay up all night, get drunk and go mad and still have a voice just like that.”

But he seems to have no worries about the prospect of death, admitting last year, “I’m aware my days are numbered but I’ve got no fear. We have all got to pass on at some point, so we are all in the same basket.” Rod’s relaxed attitude could mean we will see him celebrating his 90th birthday a decade from now. “I am going to enjoy myself for these last few years as much as I can,” he insists. “I say few − probably another 15. I can do that easy mate, easy.” We’re glad to hear it!

Darragh Ennis, also known as The Menace on ITV quiz show The Chase, appeared on Loose Women on Wednesday (January 22), where he opened up about losing his dad to dementia

The Chase star Darragh Ennis has revealed he struggled to film the ITV gameshow after his dad died from dementia.

Darragh, who is also known as The Menace, appeared on Loose Women on Wednesday (January 22) to discuss his father’s battle with the neurological disease.

After losing his dad in July 2024, Darragh shared that was “playing to a script” while going about his daily life, especially when he returned to The Chase.

“In the end it was quite sudden. He had been physically quite well but then I got a phone call, and I barely made it home in time,” he said, adding that he was left “broken” inside.

Darragh Ennis appeared on Loose Women on Wednesday (January 22) ( 
Image:
ITV)

“We had a natural break in filming, but when I did go back to work, I was put under that stressful situation,” Darragh continued.

He revealed that he struggled to answer questions under time restraint, saying: “Normally when I start making mistakes, I’d naturally be able to handle it.

“I’d just plant my feet and keep going, but this time when I went to put my feet down, there was nothing underneath them. They just fell away.”

Darragh also shared that he got “camera shy” as the pressure completely “overwhelmed” him.

Darragh Ennis lost his father to dementia in July 2024 ( 
Image:
ITV)
“I had a couple of episodes like that, where every time I tried to reach for that part of myself that’s normally very calm under pressure, it wasn’t there anymore,” he continued.

Darragh explained that the producers quickly clocked onto his struggles and offered him extra time off. They’ve also arranged for counselling

When he was first offered help, Darragh initially “shrugged it away” as he didn’t want to admit that he was struggling. Once he accepted the support, he acknowledged that it felt like he was being saved from “drowning”.

In light of his experiences, Darragh has since become an Ambassador for grief charity At a Loss.

The Chase airs weekdays at 5pm on ITV1

Paddy McGuinness has replaced Gregg Wallace as a co-host on Inside the Factory, with him having worked alongside the likes of Cherry Healey on the BBC show’s new series

Presenter Paddy McGuinness has addressed speculation over romance rumours with his colleague Cherry Healey after having worked together on a show.

It was announced in the summer of 2023 that Paddy, now 51, would replace Gregg Wallace on Inside the Factory. He’s since filmed the new series alongside co-host Cherry, 44, who has been on the BBC show since it launched in 2015.

Paddy made his debut in a Christmas special that aired last month, ahead of the ninth series launching on Tuesday. He reminded of the show’s return later this week in a message to his followers on Instagram over the weekend.

The post included several photos of Paddy and co-star Cherry – who present Inside the Factory alongside historian Ruth Goodman – together. The pair were seen beside each other in selfies, as well as in a photo of them at a restaurant.

Alongside the photos, Paddy wrote about his colleagues in the accompanying caption of the post. He told his followers last week: “The whole crew on Inside The Factory have been a joy to work with. A small but perfectly formed team.”

He continued: “Also I’d never met @cherryhealey before but we hit it off straight away. Absolutely love working with her, she’s an absolute diamond!” Paddy concluded: “The new series starts Tuesday 7th on BBC1 & @bbciplayer.”

Paddy McGuinness (left) has shut down speculation that he’s begun a romance with his Inside the Factory co-star Cherry Healey (right) ( 
Image:
Instagram/ @mcguinness.paddy)
The post was met with speculation about a potential romance between the colleagues. One person reacted: “Is this a soft launch of the new Mrs?” Another asked: “Ooh I’m liking this. New lady, Paddy? You look cute together.”

Paddy however has since addressed the rumours, which he shut down when responding to a fan who asked: “Is this your new love? If so all the very best (you look very comfortable together).” Paddy replied: “Not at all. She’s just a great person.”

Former Top Gear presenter Paddy was once in a long-term relationship with Christine McGuinness. The pair, who share three children, announced the end of their 11-year marriage in a joint statement released back in July 2022.

They said at the time: “We’re moving forward as the best parents we can be for our three beautiful children. We’ll always be a loving family, we still have a great relationship and still live happily in our family home together.”

His colleague Cherry was once married to Rory Allen, with whom she shares her two children, but the former couple split up in 2016. She later began a relationship with Justin Mountstephens and they are thought to still be together, having celebrated her birthday together last month.

Linda Robson fled her seat abruptly following a heated debate with her co-stars on Loose Women

Linda Robson dramatically declared to her fellow panellists: “That’s it, I’m gone, I ain’t talking to you no more, I’m out of here,” before making a swift exit from the ITV show on Monday.

The 66-year-old was part of Monday’s (January 13) line-up alongside host Jane Moore, Brenda Edwards, and Janet Street-Porter when the chat took a bitter turn during a discussion on: Is it ever ok to throw a strop?

Janet confessed to frequently losing her cool, recalling an instance during her MasterChef stint when she finished second – though her tantrum never made it to air.

On the other hand, Brenda tried to argue that throwing a strop was merely “showing passion”, at which point Linda chimed in with a reminder of Brenda’s huff at the National TV Awards.

Linda recounted how Brenda had splashed out on a bottle of Malbec wine at the awards ceremony but was fuming after the Birds Of A Feather star began to share out a small amount with everyone present, leading to a spat between the co-stars, reports the Liverpool Echo.

Linda Robson storms off set ( 
Image:
ITV)
“She said, ‘That bottle cost me £85’,” Linda fumed, complaining about Brenda’s reluctance to share. Janet jumped to Brenda’s defence, stating, “Don’t feel sorry for her. ”

The broadcast journalist pointed out that Brenda’s hard-earned money had bought the pricey wine before bluntly telling Linda, “That’s why I don’t socialise with you.”

Brenda couldn’t believe she’d been thrown under the bus
“The one and only time I will ever want to go out with you,” retorted the renowned sitcom actress. Jane tried to defuse the situation, joking that their squabble would likely make headlines, much to the amusement of all.

The star of I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! was setting the scene for what was to come on the show when Linda playfully decided to walk off.

Linda slammed her hands down saying “I’m out of here”Slamming her hands down, she exclaimed: “That’s it, I’m gone, I ain’t talking to you no more, I’m out of here,” in a stunt reminiscent of Good Morning Britain’s very own Piers Morgan, as she theatrically stormed off set.

As Linda strutted off stage, the production team swiftly switched to the ad breaks. When the programme resumed, any mention of the comical walkout had disappeared, with the Birds Of A Feather icon settled back comfortably in her chair.

Millionaire Beats Pregnant Wife Into Coma – Until Two Brothers Take Revenge, Terrifying the City

The first frost of December had settled over Manchester, turning the terraced houses silver beneath the streetlights. Christmas lights blinked weakly in a drizzle that never quite stopped falling. Inside a modest semi-detached home on Oakleigh Avenue, two brothers sat at the kitchen table, hands clasped around mugs of tea that had long gone cold.

David and Michael Henshaw were not wealthy men. David, the elder at thirty-four, worked long shifts at a distribution warehouse, while Michael, just twenty-eight, had recently been laid off from his construction job. Their lives were ordinary, modest, sometimes difficult—but bound tightly by family. And at the centre of their hearts was their sister, Anna.

Anna was thirty-one, radiant, and expecting her first child. She had married into wealth two years earlier, swept off her feet by the charm and extravagance of Charles Wentworth, a millionaire property developer who lived in a glass-and-steel mansion just outside the city. At first, Anna’s brothers had been suspicious—men like Charles rarely looked twice at women from their part of town. But Anna had insisted Charles was different, that his generosity and devotion were real. Against their instincts, David and Michael had swallowed their doubts for her sake.

But now Anna lay in a hospital bed, tubes and wires spilling out of her body, her face pale against the sheets. She was twenty-four weeks pregnant. She hadn’t fallen down the stairs as Charles had claimed. The doctors had made that clear: her injuries were consistent with a brutal beating.

It was Charles. The truth was sickening and undeniable.

---

The Shattered Illusion

David had been the first to receive the call. It was nearly midnight when the hospital rang. He and Michael had rushed through the rain, hearts hammering as they ran down sterile corridors that smelled of antiseptic. They had found their sister unconscious, her swollen belly rising and falling with the help of machines.

The consultant’s voice had been heavy with pity. “Your sister suffered severe trauma. We’re doing everything we can—for her and for the baby.”

In the corner, a police officer had stood, notepad in hand, his expression unreadable. “We’re investigating,” he said. But David had seen the hesitation in his eyes, the way he avoided naming Charles directly. Wealth insulated men like Charles. His lawyers and connections could bend the truth until it broke.

That night, sitting by Anna’s bedside, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor, the brothers had exchanged a silent vow. They had protected Anna all her life. And now, when she needed them most, they would not stand by and watch her suffer at the hands of a man who thought himself untouchable.

---

The Millionaire’s Cruelty

The news never reached the tabloids. Charles made sure of that. His legal team kept everything quiet, framing the incident as an “unfortunate accident.” A slip on marble floors. A fainting spell. Nothing that might stain the Wentworth name.

But whispers spread in the community. The Henshaws’ neighbours spoke in hushed tones, shaking their heads in disgust. Charles had always been known for arrogance, but violence? The idea seemed unthinkable—until now.

For David and Michael, there was no longer any question. Their sister’s swollen face, her fractured ribs, her broken spirit told them everything they needed to know. Charles had beaten a pregnant woman into a coma.

And he would walk away from it. Unless they did something.

---

The Brothers’ Pain and Resolve

Grief and fury consumed them. David sat in his car at night outside the hospital, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened, replaying every memory of their childhood with Anna—the way she had run ahead of them down cobblestone alleys, laughing, her pigtails bouncing, always the heart of their small family after their parents died.

Michael, restless and unable to sleep, scribbled in a battered notebook. Plans. Ideas. Ways to get to Charles without being caught. But beneath the rage was a gnawing fear: what if Anna never woke up? What if the baby didn’t survive? The thought hollowed him out.

One evening, as snow began to fall in thick flakes outside, the brothers stood together on the hospital roof, the city lights twinkling below.

“I can’t live with this, Dave,” Michael said, his voice trembling. “He did this to her. He could do it again. And he’s going to get away with it because he’s rich. It’s not right.”

David turned, his jaw set. “Then we make it right. We do what the law won’t. We make him pay.”

---

The Plan

The brothers knew Charles’s routines. His black Range Rover. His late-night trips to high-end clubs in Deansgate. The security cameras outside his gated mansion. He thought himself invincible behind tinted windows and steel fences.

But every fortress has cracks.

Michael used old contacts from construction to learn about the mansion’s layout. Deliveries came through a side gate. Security was outsourced, and the guards were known to nap on cold nights. David, meticulous by nature, tracked Charles’s movements for weeks.

They didn’t want to just hurt him. They wanted him to feel fear—the kind of fear Anna must have felt when his fists rained down on her. They wanted him to understand what it was like to be powerless.

And when the night came, Manchester would never forget.

---

The Revenge

It was a Friday when the city first heard the whispers of what happened to Charles Wentworth.

That night, as Charles left an exclusive bar in Deansgate, drunk and laughing with two business associates, he never noticed the battered Transit van parked across the street. The van pulled out slowly, following him through the wet streets.

At the gates of his mansion, the guards were nowhere to be seen—paid off by an envelope of cash the brothers had delivered earlier in the week. The Range Rover rolled inside, the gates closing silently behind. But before Charles could reach his front door, headlights blazed in the drive. The Transit van skidded to a halt.

Two men in balaclavas leapt out.

The attack was swift, calculated. They dragged Charles into the van before he could shout, a sack pulled over his head, his cries muffled. The city’s millionaire vanished into the night.

---

The Warehouse

They took him to an abandoned textile warehouse in Salford, the kind of place no one visited anymore, its walls tagged with graffiti, its windows shattered. Inside, the air smelled of rust and damp.

Charles was tied to a chair beneath a single dangling lightbulb. When the sack was yanked from his head, he blinked in terror, his confidence stripped away.

“Who the hell are you? Do you know who I am?” he spat, his voice trembling despite the bravado.

David stepped forward, his face still masked. “We know exactly who you are. You’re the man who put our sister in a coma. The man who nearly killed his own child.”

Charles’s eyes widened. “Anna’s brothers…” His voice cracked. “Listen, I—It wasn’t like that. She fell, she—”

Michael slammed his fist into the table, the sound echoing through the empty warehouse. “Don’t you dare lie. We’ve seen what you did. We’ve seen her lying there, hooked up to machines. You think money makes you untouchable? Not tonight.”

---

Fear Like He Had Never Known

The hours stretched long. The brothers didn’t kill him—not yet. They let fear do the work. They spoke in low voices, describing every injury Anna had suffered. Every bruise. Every broken rib. They forced him to listen to recordings of the baby’s heartbeat the doctors had shared with them.

Charles shook, sweat pouring down his face. For once in his gilded life, he was powerless.

They dragged him to the edge of the canal that cut through the city, icy water lapping at the stone embankment. They dangled him over the edge, his screams echoing across the dark water.

“You think this is bad?” David hissed. “This is nothing compared to what Anna went through. We want you to remember her every time you close your eyes.”

---

The Message to the City

By dawn, Charles was found wandering the streets near Piccadilly Station, bloodied, barefoot, and broken. He refused to speak to the police about what had happened, terrified of further retaliation. But word spread quickly: the untouchable millionaire had been taken down by two ordinary men who would not forgive what he had done.

The city buzzed with the story. Some whispered in fear, others in admiration. For many, it was justice served where the law had failed.

---

Aftermath

Anna woke from her coma three weeks later. Weak but alive. The baby had survived too, against all odds. When she learned what her brothers had done, she wept—not with disapproval, but with a strange, fierce gratitude.

Charles, humiliated and haunted, fled Manchester, selling off his properties at a loss, retreating into obscurity. The brothers were never caught. The police investigated, but no one spoke, and the city had no interest in helping a monster regain his power.

David and Michael returned quietly to their lives, holding their sister’s hand as she recovered, watching her baby grow strong. They carried the weight of what they had done, but they carried no regret.

---

The Ending

Years later, on a warm summer evening, the brothers sat together in the garden, listening to Anna’s little boy laugh as he played with a football.

David looked at Michael, his voice soft. “Do you ever think about that night?”

Michael nodded. “Every day. And I’d do it all again.”

They clinked their bottles of beer, the sound sharp in the fading light. Justice had not come from courts or lawyers or police. It had come from love, from fury, from the unbreakable bond of family.

And somewhere, out there, Charles Wentworth still lived with the fear that one day the brothers might return.

The city had been terrified. But Anna’s family had found peace.

And for David and Michael Henshaw, that was enough.

The wind screamed through the marble halls of the Ward mansion, rattling the tall windows like an omen. Elena Ward, seven months pregnant, stood barefoot on the cold floor, trembling beneath the glow of the chandelier. Her husband, Cole, the man she had once believed was her forever, loomed in front of her with eyes that held no recognition.

Behind him, Riley Pierce, his flawless PR manager and newest obsession, smirked, a pair of silver scissors glinting in her manicured hand.

“Cole, please don’t do this. Our baby,” Elena pleaded, clutching her swollen belly.

He laughed, sharp and cruel. “You think you can trap me with that kid? You’re nothing, Elena. A broke designer who got lucky marrying me.”

Riley stepped closer, her sharp perfume cutting the air. “Maybe it’s time the world sees what kind of wife you really are.” She grabbed a fistful of Elena’s dark hair and pulled. Elena cried out, but Cole didn’t move.

The first snip sliced through the silence. Strands fell like black feathers on white marble. Each cut was a humiliation, a declaration that the life she knew was over. “Smile,” Riley whispered. “The cameras love a tragedy.” Cole had installed security cameras everywhere; tonight, one blinked red in the corner, capturing every second.

When Riley was done, she shoved Elena toward the open door. Snowflakes whirled in, clinging to Elena’s bare shoulders. “Get out,” Cole barked. “Take your pity and your lies somewhere else.”

Elena stumbled into the storm, clutching her coat. The baby kicked weakly, as if pleading. Behind her, laughter echoed from inside. Then the heavy slam of the door cut it off. She turned once, hoping for mercy, but saw only Riley’s silhouette drawing the curtains. Her phone slipped from her numb fingers into the snow. The battery died. For a heartbeat, she thought she saw movement beyond the gate—a dark car parked under the trees, headlights off—but she was too weak to care.

Her knees gave out. She fell onto the icy driveway, her breath coming in ragged bursts. The last thing she heard before darkness swallowed her was the faint hum of an engine and a man’s voice, distant but firm: “Target found. Proceed to extraction.”

 

Snowflakes still clung to her lashes when Elena opened her eyes. The world was a blur of soft gold light and linen sheets that smelled of lavender and antiseptic. A faint beeping sound and the hiss of an oxygen machine told her she was in some kind of medical care.

A nurse in a Navy uniform appeared. “You need to rest, Mrs. Ward. The baby is fine. You’re safe now.”

Elena’s hand shot to her hair. The cropped, jagged strands confirmed the nightmare was real. “Where am I?” she whispered.

The door opened. A tall man in a black suit entered, his presence controlled and powerful. His gray hair was combed neatly, his expression unreadable. “Good evening, Miss Ward.”

“Who are you? Where’s my husband?”

“Mr. Cole Ward has been informed that you’re under medical care. That’s all he needs to know for now.” He moved closer, placing a leather folder on the table. “My name is Martin Gray. I work for someone who has been watching over you for a long time.”

“Watching me? Why?”

“Because you’re not just Mrs. Cole Ward,” Martin said quietly. “You’re Elena Moore, the only daughter of Victor Moore.”

The name hit her like a slap. “That’s impossible. Victor Moore died in a plane crash five years ago.”

Martin’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “That’s what the world believes.” He gestured to the window. “He’ll explain everything himself when you’re strong enough. For now, you’re safe here. This property is secured. No one can reach you.”

Elena saw manicured gardens, stone statues dusted with snow, and a high iron gate that shimmered under floodlights. It wasn’t a hospital; it was a fortress. “Why now? Why, after all these years?”

“Because,” Martin said, “your father has finally found the people who destroyed his empire, and one of them just laid hands on his daughter.”

Martin handed her a small device, a silver flash drive. “This was recovered from your husband’s mansion. It’s a backup of his home security system. Everything that happened that night is here.”

Elena stared at the drive, trembling. “The cameras were recording?”

“Yes. And they were transmitting to a private server encrypted under your father’s name.”

 

The next morning, Elena sat by the window, staring at the flash drive. Every time she blinked, she heard the scissors, felt Riley’s hand in her hair. The door clicked open. Martin entered, followed by two men in black coats. Between them walked a figure she’d only ever seen in photographs.

“Dad.” The word escaped before she believed it.

Victor Moore stopped in the doorway. Tall, silver-haired, with eyes the color of storm clouds. He crossed the room slowly, his hand trembling as he touched her cheek. “Elena,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re alive.”

She broke then, years of loneliness collapsing all at once. When her breathing steadied, she pulled back. “How? Everyone thought you were gone.”

Victor’s gaze hardened. “That crash wasn’t an accident. Someone sabotaged the plane. I survived because one of my pilots switched flights. We faked my death to flush out the people who tried to destroy me.”

“Who would do that?”

“Cole’s father, for one. He was my partner. After I died, he took over my projects, buried the evidence, and disappeared with most of my investors’ money. Now his son has my daughter, and he dared to humiliate her on camera.”

Victor picked up the flash drive and slid it into a small projector. The marble floor, the chandelier, Cole’s sneer, Riley’s scissors—it all played out on the wall. Elena flinched but forced herself to watch.

When the video ended, Victor spoke quietly. “This recording isn’t just humiliation. It’s evidence. Martin has already sent copies to the federal investigators who owe me favors.”

“You’re going to expose them?”

“Oh, not just expose,” Victor said, his tone chilling. “I’m going to erase them—financially, socially, legally. And when they have nothing left, I’ll let the law finish what I started.”

“I don’t want blood, Dad. I just want peace.”

He gave her a sad smile. “Peace doesn’t come free, sweetheart. Sometimes justice demands a little noise.”

He pressed a button on his tablet. Screens around the room lit up with live feeds: Cole’s mansion, his office, even Riley’s penthouse. “They don’t know it yet,” he said, “but every move they make now belongs to us.”

 

From the balcony of his hidden estate, Victor Moore watched the rain slide down the window. Elena sat curled on the couch. Though fragile, a quiet fire she hadn’t possessed before burned beneath her pain.

“They hurt you because they thought you were powerless,” Victor said.

“Maybe I was.”

“No, you were merciful. That’s different. I’m going to give them the illusion of victory. Cole thinks he owns everything. I’ll let him build higher, then pull the ground out from beneath him.”

Martin returned with a file. “We found his offshore chain. Two companies registered in the Cayman Islands, both funneled through Riley Pierce’s marketing firm.”

“So, she’s in on the money laundering,” Elena frowned.

“Completely,” Victor confirmed. “After I ‘died,’ Cole’s father transferred all residual assets into a hidden portfolio under Cole’s name. That’s the money funding their entire lifestyle.”

“So, every dinner, every dress, every party Riley hosted… it was stolen from me?”

“Yes. And now you’ll take it back publicly.” Victor explained the plan: Elena would file a civil claim under her birth name, Elena Moore, using the original Moore Holdings seal as proof of misappropriation. “Cole will come out swinging—loud and arrogant, just like his father. And while the world watches, we will quietly hand every shred of his financial corruption to the federal investigators. By the time he realizes, the house of cards will collapse.”

 

Cole Ward leaned back in his leather chair. “To new beginnings,” he said, raising his whiskey glass to Riley.

Riley laughed. “The media is eating it up. They think Elena’s in hiding because she can’t face the scandal. Bad press is just free marketing.”

“If she had any brains, she’d disappear,” Cole smirked. “She has nothing left. No money, no family, no name. I made sure of that.”

Downstairs, Martin watched the live feed. “Transmission clear,” he murmured.

“Good. Let him drink. Let him celebrate,” Victor’s voice replied from the earpiece. “Tomorrow morning he’ll wake up and realize every cent he’s touched in the last six months came from us.”

Inside the office, Riley checked her phone. “The accounting team says some of your offshore transfers bounced back last night.” Cole waved her off. “Tell them to fix it. You worry too much.”

“You sound just like your father,” Riley noted.

“That’s a compliment.”

As Cole turned away, Riley glanced at a strange email: Your silence was bought with stolen blood. No sender, just a countdown clock ticking. A chill slid down her spine. The trap was set.

 

Morning sunlight spilled over Manhattan, bright and merciless. Cole Ward woke to Riley’s sharp voice: “Cole, turn on the TV now!”

The moment the screen flickered to life, the blood drained from his face. Every major news channel was showing the same clip: His mansion, his voice, Riley’s laughter, Elena’s screams, the scissors. #justiceforElena was trending worldwide.

Cole snatched his phone, dialing his PR manager. “Martin, shut this down! Spin it! Pay someone!”

A flat, unfamiliar voice answered. “Mr. Ward. Martin Gray doesn’t work for you anymore.”

By noon, the damage was irreversible. Protesters gathered outside Ward Enterprises. Sponsors pulled their contracts. The company’s stock plummeted 12% in two hours.

“It’s her father,” Cole muttered. “He’s behind this.”

“Her father’s dead, Cole!”

“Then explain this.” Cole threw a printout onto the desk—a news headline from an anonymous financial blog: Former Billionaire Victor Moore spotted alive in Zurich.

Before Riley could reply, their head of finance burst in. “Sir, our accounts are frozen. The Federal Bureau just served us a notice. They’re investigating us for money laundering… from the Cayman accounts under your firm’s name, Miss Pierce!”

Riley gasped. Cole turned to her, fury blazing. “What did you do?”

“I followed your instructions!” she cried.

Cole grabbed his coat and stormed toward the elevator. Downstairs, in a shadowy parking garage, he met one of his late father’s lawyers. “You want truth?” the man said quietly. “Victor Moore isn’t just alive. He’s already bought half your company through proxies.” He handed Cole a photo: Elena in a hospital gown, smiling faintly beside Victor Moore. At the bottom, written in ink: For every strand you cut, I’ll take one thread from your empire.

Cole crumpled the photo.

Miles away, in Victor Moore’s control room, Elena watched the live broadcast. Her father’s voice was calm beside her. “He’s already losing.”

Outside the Ward offices, black SUVs screeched to a halt. The federal task force moved with surgical precision. Agents in plain clothes and suits entered the penthouse. Cole stood rigid as an agent read the warrant: charges of money laundering, fraud, and obstruction.

Riley watched from the couch, her carefully built image crumbling as agents unpacked evidence bags. The agents found encrypted logs—payments routed to a Cayman account, funneled through Riley’s firm, and dispersed into shell companies.

Cole was escorted to a waiting SUV in cuffs. He shouted for his name, for his father, for anyone to salvage what remained, but his voice was swallowed by the press’s roar.

In a secure room, Victor watched the live feed. Elena stood beside him, fingers woven through his, watching the man who had hurt her become a shrinking image on a screen.

“It’s never over that easily,” Victor said. “Men like Cole don’t surrender. They plot from the ashes.” He revealed the final piece of the puzzle: “Cole’s father, the man who betrayed me, he’s still alive, too. He faked his own death years ago and is now pulling the strings from abroad.”

“So, this isn’t justice yet,” Elena whispered. “It’s only the beginning.”

“Exactly. And if we’re not careful, he’ll turn Cole’s arrest into leverage.”

Across town, Riley Pierce sat alone in an interrogation room. An agent offered leniency if she cooperated and gave them a name. She stared at the thick folder of evidence, torn between betraying Cole for survival and betraying his father—a man more dangerous than anyone she knew.

Back at the estate, Victor received a message: The elder Ward is moving funds out of Switzerland. They had one chance to intercept.

Victor turned to Elena. “This is where it gets dangerous. He’ll come for you to stop us.”

Elena met his gaze, her eyes steady. “Then let him come. I’m not the same woman they threw into the snow.”

In a high-security cell, Cole sat under flickering lights. A guard slid an envelope through the slot. Inside was a single note in elegant script: Hold your tongue. Help is coming, father.

As Elena prepared for peace, a new storm she never expected was already on its way.

The Price of Vengeance: A Blackwood Story

Julian Blackwood stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse office, surveying the glittering cityscape below. At thirty-two, he had built an empire most men only dreamed of, yet success tasted like ash. Every dollar earned, every company acquired, every rival crushed had been mere steps toward one singular goal: revenge. The memory of his father’s funeral fifteen years past still burned in his mind. Thomas Blackwood had been a brilliant architect, betrayed by his partner, Richard Rivers, who stole his designs, claimed them as his own, and drove Thomas to the heart attack that killed him. Julian had sworn then to make Rivers pay.

He had learned the art of corporate warfare, and now, Rivers’s architecture firm was drowning in debt. Julian held the strings. But financial ruin was not enough. He wanted Rivers to suffer as his father had, to lose what he loved most.

A knock at the door interrupted his grim contemplation. “Mr. Rivers is here, sir,” his assistant, Leonard, reported. “He looks desperate.” Julian’s smile was cold and sharp. “Make him wait twenty minutes, then send him in.”

When Richard Rivers finally entered the office, Julian barely recognized the man who had once seemed so powerful. Rivers’s expensive suit hung on a thin frame, and his hands trembled. “Blackwood, I’m here to ask for help,” Rivers pleaded. “The banks are calling in my loans. I’m losing everything.”

Julian leaned back. “You call destroying my father’s life work ‘differences’? Rivers paled. “That was business, nothing personal. If I could take it back…” Julian’s voice was ice. “But you cannot. However, I am not without mercy. I am willing to restructure your debts and save your company. For a price.” Hope flickered in Rivers’s eyes. “Name it. Anything.” Julian delivered the blow: “I want your daughter. I want Natalie to marry me.”

The color drained from Rivers’s face. “My daughter? She just graduated, she has her whole life ahead of her.” “And she can have it, as Mrs. Julian Blackwood, living in luxury,” Julian countered, his eyes merciless. “Or she can watch her father go to prison for the fraud I have uncovered in your accounts, and spend her life trying to care for her sick mother without money for treatment. Your wife’s cancer treatments are expensive, are they not? I wonder how long she would survive without them.” Rivers collapsed into the chair, the choice already made. Natalie Rivers would become Natalie Blackwood in two weeks.

Natalie sat in her favorite library corner when her father called her home. At twenty-three, she possessed a grace and intelligence that Julian’s research had only hinted at. Her world tilted when her father explained the debt, the threats, and Julian Blackwood’s monstrous proposition. “He is doing this to hurt me,” her father wept, “This is about revenge for something that happened long ago. But if you do not agree, we will lose everything—your mother’s treatments, our home, my freedom.”

She had heard of Julian Blackwood, the mysterious billionaire known for his ruthlessness. The thought of marrying such a man, of becoming a pawn, filled her with dread. But looking at her father’s anguish and thinking of her mother, she knew her answer. “I will do it,” she whispered. “I will marry him.”

Their first meeting three days later was charged with an unexpected tension. When Natalie opened the door, their eyes met. She saw a man more handsome than his rare photographs suggested, with jet-black hair and features carved from stone. He saw a woman whose beauty was softer and more genuine, with an intelligence in her gaze that made him pause. A flicker of something that might have been regret crossed his mind before the memory of his father hardened his jaw.

“I trust your father has explained our arrangement,” Julian stated, his voice deep and controlled.

“He told me you are using me to hurt him,” Natalie replied, lifting her chin despite the fear. “That this marriage is nothing more than an act of revenge.”

A slight smile touched Julian’s lips, devoid of warmth. “At least we understand each other. That will make things simpler. The wedding will be in ten days. Small, private, efficient. You will move into my home immediately afterward. Sign this.”

The prenuptial agreement was a contract for ownership, not partnership. It mandated separate living quarters and allowed dissolution at his discretion. “Do I have any choice in this?” she asked quietly. “You have the same choice your father had,” Julian replied, his eyes merciless. “Accept my terms or face the consequences. I suggest you accept.”

The wedding ceremony was sterile, a formality. Julian’s kiss was brief and cold. That evening, Natalie entered Blackwood Manor. It was a masterpiece of modern architecture—glass walls and expensive minimalism—beautiful but utterly lifeless. Mrs. Opel, the stern housekeeper, showed Natalie to her luxurious suite in the East Wing. “Mr. Blackwood’s private quarters are in the West Wing. He prefers not to be disturbed.” Natalie was in a golden cage.

The first month passed in silence. Julian buried himself in work; Natalie wandered the halls like a ghost. Mrs. Opel, kinder than her exterior suggested, confided one rainy afternoon: “Mr. Blackwood was not always so cold. Before his father died, he was a different person, bright, full of dreams.”

Natalie sought refuge in the manor’s library and, eventually, in the music room. One evening, as she played a haunting melody by Chopin, she didn’t notice Julian standing in the doorway, drawn home early by the sound. He watched her fingers dance, seeing the beauty and sadness in her playing, and felt something crack in the armor he had built around his heart.

When the music faded, he spoke. “I did not know you played.”

“My mother taught me,” she said softly.

“How is she?” Julian asked, surprising himself with genuine concern.

“Better. Thanks to the treatments you are paying for.” Natalie met his eyes. “I may hate this situation, but I am grateful for that.” The tension shifted. For the first time, they acknowledged a shared humanity. “Play something else,” he requested, his voice gentler than she had ever heard it. As she played, he stood beside the instrument. “The house feels less empty when there is music.” He left quickly, but the dynamic had changed. He had seen Natalie, the woman, not Rivers’s daughter, the pawn.

The following week, Julian announced they would attend the annual Riverside Charity Gala. “We need to be seen as a married couple.”

The gown he provided was a stunning emerald silk. When Natalie descended the grand staircase, Julian caught his breath. “You look exceptional,” he said, his voice rougher than intended.

At the gala, they played their roles perfectly. But midway through the evening, Natalie was spotted by Owen Parker, a childhood friend. Her face lit up with a genuine happiness Julian had never witnessed. Julian watched their easy embrace with narrowed eyes. A dark, primal jealousy surged through him. He noted how easily she smiled, how her whole demeanor brightened for this man.

When Owen asked for a dance, Natalie, tired of being controlled, accepted, meeting Julian’s dark gaze with defiance. As they waltzed, Julian stood rigid, his hands clenched. He watched Owen’s hand on his wife’s waist, and the possessive, visceral feeling that crashed through him was unlike the cold anger of his revenge. When had she become his in more than just legal terms? The realization stunned him.

When the dance ended, Julian gripped Natalie’s elbow. “We are leaving now.”

“Julian, the event is not over!” she protested.

His voice left no room for argument. He practically dragged her out. In the manor, her own anger erupted. “How dare you treat me like that? Owen is my friend, and you had no right!”

Julian whirled to face her, his control snapping. “I have every right! You are my wife!”

“Only on paper! This marriage is a farce, remember? You said so yourself!”

“Things change.” He advanced, caging her against the entrance hall wall. “You are mine, Natalie. The ring on your finger means something, whether you like it or not.”

“Since when?” she challenged, her chest heaving. “Since when do I mean anything to you beyond a tool for revenge?”

Julian’s hands braced beside her head. His face was inches from hers. “Since I cannot stop thinking about you. Since every man who looks at you makes me want to commit violence. Since I lie awake knowing you are just down the hall, and it is driving me insane.”

“You said you would never touch me,” she whispered. “That I was repulsive to you because I was Rivers’s daughter.”

“I lied,” his voice was a rough whisper. “God help me, I lied.” His mouth crashed down on hers. This was fire and fury, need and possession. All the tension, all the loneliness poured into the kiss. When they finally broke apart, Julian swept her into his arms and carried her not to her room, but to his. That night, Julian broke every promise he had made. The nature of their marriage had irrevocably changed.

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of passion and confusion. Julian no longer avoided her, but he never spoke of feelings, never mentioned love. Natalie found herself falling for the man she glimpsed in quiet moments—the tenderness in his touch, the way he listened. But the shadow of revenge still hung over them. Julian had not abandoned his plan.

The crisis arrived on a cold November morning. Julian’s lead investigator delivered a file. Julian emerged from his study, his face ashen, filled with a primal rage. Richard Rivers had not only stolen designs but had systematically embezzled money and then framed Julian’s father as the thief. Julian’s father had died disgraced.

For three days, Julian shut her out. Finally, Natalie confronted him in his study. “What is wrong? Why are you shutting me out?”

“I received new evidence,” Julian said, his eyes haunted. “Your father is not just a betrayer. He is a criminal. He disgraced my father. Tomorrow, I’m going to destroy him. I’m releasing everything to the media and the authorities.”

“Julian, please,” Natalie pleaded. “My mother is so weak. The stress will kill her. Whatever he did, he is still my father. There has to be another way.”

“There is no other way,” Julian slammed his glass down. “This is why I married you. Have you forgotten? You were always just a pawn in this game, Natalie. Whatever has happened between us does not change that.”

The words succeeded in their intent. Natalie recoiled, removing her wedding ring and placing it on his desk. “I see. Then you have already made your choice. You choose revenge over everything else—over justice, over mercy, over love.”

“Love?” Julian laughed bitterly. “You think I could love the daughter of the man who destroyed my family?”

“I thought perhaps you could,” Natalie said steadily. “You are so consumed by hatred that you cannot see what it is costing you. You are becoming the very thing you hate, Julian. Your father would be ashamed.“

She left him standing there, packed a single bag, and walked out of Blackwood Manor in the middle of the night.

The next morning, Julian found the ring and the letter: “You can destroy my father if you must, but I will not stay to watch you destroy yourself. Somewhere in you is the man your father raised. The man I fell in love with. I hope someday you find him again. Goodbye, Julian.”

The press conference was scheduled for ten. Julian sat with the file, his phone, and Natalie’s letter. He could not stop hearing her voice: “Your father would be ashamed.” What would Thomas Blackwood think of his son using an innocent woman as a weapon? Julian allowed himself to consider forgiveness—not for Rivers’s sake, but for his own. He deserved to be free of the hatred that had poisoned his entire adult life.

He picked up the phone. He cancelled the press conference. He instructed his lawyer to quietly hand the evidence to the authorities, removing himself from the spectacle. He set up an anonymous trust fund to cover Mrs. Rivers’s treatments.

Then, Julian left his office and his company. He had a more important mission: he had to find his wife.

The search took three months. Julian finally tracked Natalie to a small coastal town. He found her closing an art gallery on a Saturday afternoon. When she saw him, she froze. As he crossed the street, he saw the small swell of her belly beneath her dress.

“You were pregnant,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“Yes, three months,” she confirmed, placing a protective hand on her stomach.

“Why did you not tell me?”

“I was protecting our child from a man consumed by hatred.”

“What are you doing here, Julian?” she asked tiredly.

“I came to tell you that you were right about everything,” Julian took a step closer. “I canceled the press conference. I turned the evidence over to the authorities discreetly. I am sorry for using you, for hurting you, for being too blind to see that revenge was destroying me.”

“What changed?”

“You did. Your words forced me to look at what I had become. I realized my father would not want me to live this way. You were brave enough to walk away from me, and that made me brave enough to walk away from revenge. I love you, Natalie. I have forgiven your father—not for his sake, but for mine and for our child’s. I want to build a life based on love, not hatred. Please, Natalie, come home.”

Natalie searched his face and saw something she had never seen before: peace.

“It will take time,” she said.

“Then I will wait,” Julian vowed, kneeling and gently resting his hand on her belly. “I will work every day to earn your trust back. You and our child are what matters. Please, Natalie, let me be the father our child deserves.”

Looking down at the powerful man humbled before her, Natalie felt her resistance crumble. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, we can try.”

Six months later, they remarried in a simple ceremony in the garden of Blackwood Manor. Their daughter, Emma, was born two months after that. When Julian held her for the first time, tears streamed down his face.

Julian Blackwood learned that the true way to honor his father’s memory was not through vengeance, but through building a life filled with love, family, and the courage to forgive. Their story became one of redemption and the power of love to heal even the deepest wounds. They had found something far more valuable than vengeance: peace.

Ruth Langsford, 64, was pictured leaving swanky restaurant ’34 Mayfair’ in London with her friend Lizzie Cundy before being flown to Australia for I’m a Celebrity

Ruth Langsford showed off her glowing look as she left a swanky restaurant with her close friend ahead of her surprise I’m a Celebrity stint.

The 64-year-old presenter is heading Down Under to be a surprise addition to the I’m A Celeb camp following her shock split from her husband, Eamonn Holmes. But she won’t be taking part in trials on the reality show, as Ruth will simply be there in a supporting role.

Before being flown to Australia, Ruth was all smiles as she left swanky restaurant “34 Mayfair” in London with her close friend, Lizzie Cundy. The Loose Women star wore an elegant all-black outfit with trousers, a top and a jacket.

Ruth wore an all-black outfit for the outing ( 
Image:
w8media)

She was seen leaving the restaurant with Lizzie Cundy ( 
Image:
w8media)
She paired it with a silver bag and silver heels. Her friend Lizzie was seen walking behind her, wearing a red short paired with red knee-high boots. While in Australia, Ruth will be cheering on her Loose Women co-star Jane Moore, 62, who is one of the 2024 contestants.

Ruth and Jane have both been starts on the ITV lunchtime talk show since 1999 – a fact Jane has hoped will give her an advantage in the jungle. After being confirmed as one of the contestants, she said in a pre-show interview: “I will fill the hours with good chat. I find people really interesting and I want to have organic conversations. I won’t be like, ‘Tell me about the time…’ but I will be asking questions just because I am interested. I hope they (my fellow campmates) don’t get offended!”

The presenter is tipped to appear on the new I’m A Celeb companion series, I’m A Celebrity…Unpacked which will be hosted by Joel Dommett, Kemi Rodgers and Sam Thompson. And she will be in the wings to support Jane during her time in the jungle – which she is said to be hoping will be a welcome distraction from her marriage meltdown.

A source told The Sun: “It’s been a tough year for Ruth and she’s been putting her best foot forward, she’s thrilled to have been asked to appear on this the spin off show and fly to Australia ahead of Christmas. She’s rooting for Jane and can’t wait to give her opinion on how she is getting on.” The source added: “The production team are particularly excited they have landed Ruth to join them as they think she’ll be amazing and give the new format a boost.”

Fans of Ruth were shocked earlier this year when it was announced her marriage to Eamonn, 64, had come to an abrupt end after 14 years – while their romance stretched back to 1996. They confirmed their split through a representative, who said back in May: “Ruth Langsford and Eamonn Holmes have confirmed their marriage is over and they are in the process of divorcing.”

Before entering the jungle, Jane said her “mum” skills will also come into play after as well as her interviewing skills. She declared: “I have been on this planet a long time and I will be the person who will try to help them out. My two daughters are really up for me doing it and my youngest one keeps telling me: ‘Mum, it is going to be amazing’. If there is someone young in there struggling, I know it will appeal to my maternal side. But cooking you will not find me putting myself forward for. I am not a good cook, I am rubbish. I know the food is going to taste pretty insipid too.”

Stacey Solomon has reportedly quit one of her TV roles after fans were concerned that she had quit Loose Women when she failed to appear in the ITV’s show 25th anniversary photo

Stacey Solomon has quit another one of her huge TV projects, according to reports.

The Sort Your Life Out star, 34, recently stepped down from her role as a designer for In The Style to spend more time with her family and now it’s been reported she’s left her role on Rennovation Rescue.

Stacey fronted the Channel 4 show for one season, which saw the plucky mum-of-five come to the rescue of homeowners who’d been left stranded by their builders and needed help to salvage their half-built homes.

Explaining her departure from the show, a source said: “Stacey had a great time making Renovation Rescue but the fact she isn’t doing a second series allows her to focus on her projects with the Beeb.”

Stacey Solomon has quit another one of her huge TV projects, according to reports ( 
Image:
Channel 4)

With her down to earth charm and no-nonsense attitude, Stacey has a string of presenting roles under her belt. Her work on BBC’s Sort Your Life Out earned her a National Television award for Factual Entertainment, with a source telling The Sun of the episodes: “They’ve been a huge success and the NTA win is evidence that the viewing public love what she does.”

The Dagenham-born star has a legion of loyal fans, who follow her career closely. Recently they were concerned when Stacey was missing from the 25th anniversary portrait for Loose Women, which included several panellists and presenters, all wearing silver sparkly dresses.

Among those present in the studio snap are Christine Lampard, Judi Love, Katie Piper, Kelle Bryan, Frankie Bridge, Dame Kelly Holmes, Charlene White, Sunetra Sarker, and Olivia Attwood-Dack.

Stacey joined the show in 2016 and has become a favourite with fans since her first appearance. She has not commented about her absence from the photo, however she did post on X, formerly Twitter: “Happy birthday to you, Loose Women. I can’t believe you’re 25 years old and I can’t believe I get to call myself a Loose Woman, I’m such a proud Loose Woman! 25 incredible years and so many more to come. Love you loads and loads.”

Fans were worried when Stacey was missing from the Loose Women 25th Anniversary photo ( 
Image:
No credit)
Earlier this year, Stacey revealed she had stepped down from a huge role after three years to spend more time with her family. The X Factor star welcomed her fifth child, Belle, with her husband, Joe Swash, 42, last year. The couple also shares Rex, four, and Rose, two, while Stacey has 16-year-old Zachary with her ex Dean Cox and Leighton, 11, with former fiancé Aaron Barnham.

Posting a statement on her Instagram story, Stacey told fans: “Today has been a wonderful but emotional day as I shot my LAST EVER collection for In The Style. I have loved every single second of being able to design & create clothing with the most incredible team & literally bring my dreams to life.’

She continued to say that this year, she has “thought a lot about work/family balance’ and what she needs to prioritise and as a result needed to ‘give more of myself back to my family”.

In May, Stacey said her dream was to quit TV work all together to become a stay-at-home mum, stating she wants to only take on work she can do mostly from home apart from the occasional “passion project”.

The Mirror has contacted Stacey’s rep for comment on this story.

It Takes Two took an emotional turn after Strictly Come Dancing star Wynne Evans was left in tears following his exit from the BBC show

Strictly star Wynne Evans was left wiping away the tears during his emotional exit interview on It Takes Two tonight.

The Welsh opera star became the latest famous face to get the boot from the glitzy BBC One show at the weekend. Wynne was partnered with Katya Jones, and became a firm-favourites thanks to their jaw-dropping routines.

However, on Sunday (November 17) Wynne was voted off from the competition, following a dance-off at the Blackpool Tower Ballroom against Montell Douglas and Johannes Radebe.

All four judges opted to save the latter couple, meaning Wynne’s time on the show was over. And on Monday (November 18) Wynne and Katya appeared on It Takes Two – and things took an emotional turn.

Wynne became the latest celeb to leave

During their chat, co-star Jamie Borthwick gate crashed and joined Katya and Wynne. The EastEnders star gushed over his “best mate” Wynne – causing him to break down. Jamie said: “Who’d have thought this man and me would become best mates?

“It’s not going to be the same, but I’ve got a friend for life. He’s amazing this man,” he added. Katya then quipped: “This is what Strictly is about, no one is going to remember the scores or the comments you got.

Wynne was left emotional ( 
Image:
BBC)
“It’s the friendships they create on the show and genuine relationships. I’m so glad you had each other,” the dancer said. As he started to well up, host Fleur East then handed Wynne some tissues as he used them to wipe his tears.

During the results show on Sunday night (November 17) Wynne gushed about his time on Strictly. He said: “It’s been wonderful, I’ve got to say. I feel like it’s what Strictly is all about.

“If I can come and do Strictly and last until week nine, then anybody can get out there and dance and have a brilliant time. Strictly is such a brilliant family, such a precious family, that I want everybody here in this room and at home to look after it for the generations to come because it is a wonderful, wonderful thing.”