Jonquilの小説

Jacob’s POVI WASN’T supposed to look at her.Hell, I wasn’t even supposed to think about her.But Lila Montgomery had walked back into this world like a goddamn flame, and every part of me wanted to burn in it.She didn’t belong here anymore. I had known it the second she stepped onto the dirt in those ridiculous heels, the diamond on her finger flashing like a warning sign. The princess had traded leather and grit for silk and glass, and I should’ve hated it. Should’ve told myself she was gone, untouchable.But all I could think of when her green eyes cut into mine was mine.I had sworn I’d never touch her. I had promised her old man on his deathbed, “Keep her out of this world, Jacob. Don’t let the blood touch her.” I had promised Michael, her brother, too. She was off-limits. She was family.But promises didn’t stop the ache in my chest when she stumbled, didn’t silence the snarl in my throat when I saw her clutching that slick bastard Adrian’s arm like he was her salvation.I cou

Lila’s POVAFTER THE burial, tradition demanded we hold vigil at the house, where family and the inner circle gathered. No press, no outsiders, only blood and those bound by loyalty.And it was suffocating.Everywhere I turned, shadows clung to the walls, thick with smoke and grief. The room buzzed with low voices, whiskey glasses clinking, leather jackets shifting like restless wolves in mourning. My heels clicked against the hardwood floor, far too loud, like I didn’t belong in a place carved from blood and grit.Eyes followed me, some pitying, some openly sneering. I lifted my chin higher, fingers brushing the cool diamond on my hand, as though that sparkle could shield me. Adrian’s voice echoed in my head, sharp as glass: Always hold your head high, Lila. Don’t let them see weakness.But weakness was all I felt.I was holding a paper-thin version of myself together when the perfume hit me, heady, expensive, laced with poison.“Lila Montgomery,” Vivienne purred, her voice slicing t

Lila’s POVTHE FIRST thing I noticed was the dirt.Not the fresh-turned grave soil, though that was piled high at the edge like a wound waiting to be stitched. No. It was the mud caking everyone’s boots, the streaks across black slacks, the faint tang of earth and sweat that clung to these men like a second skin.And then there was me.The pointed heels of my designer pumps sank into the ground with every step, threatening to snap at the stiletto. My navy sheath dress clung to my thighs like it belonged at a corporate board meeting, not in the middle of the Hollow Ridge cemetery. A cold autumn wind licked at my bare legs, carrying the whispers of the pack.She came back?Look at the ring on her finger. A diamond like that doesn’t belong in these woods.Glass tower princess.The weight of their stares pressed harder than the cloudy sky above. They didn’t look at me like I was one of them anymore. I wasn’t. Not since I’d left.My throat tightened, but I lifted my chin anyway. If I let t

Lila’s POVTHE DIAMOND on my finger caught the lamplight, throwing fractured rainbows across the ivory pages of the wedding magazine I’d been thumbing through.My life was supposed to be perfect.At twenty-one, I was the lucky girl who had clawed her way out of the shadows of leather and blood, stepping into a world of city lights and polished glass. I had Adrian Cross, the man every woman at the club still whispered about. Handsome. Wealthy. Promising me forever with a smile that looked good in every photograph.And yet, as I flipped to a spread of gowns I could never imagine myself walking in without tripping, I sighed. My clumsy fingers snagged the corner of the glossy page and ripped it. Of course. Lila Montgomery, heiress who could never walk in heels without wobbling, who spilled wine at fancy dinners, who blushed when she should’ve kept her mouth shut.Still, Adrian told me he loved me anyway. Loved me for being a little different.So why did my stomach always twist when he sai