LOGINCeleste’s POV“Try this one,” Viv said, holding up a dress in the softest shade of rose. “The cut is perfect for you.”I blinked at her, half-expecting her to take it back or laugh like it was a joke. But she didn’t.She actually meant it.This whole… day felt unreal.Shopping? Manicure appointments? Coffee and pastries in between?With my biological mother? I must be dreaming.It was like stepping into someone else’s life. I reached out and touched the fabric of the dress. “It’s beautiful.”“Good,” Viv said with a smile. “I think it’ll look fantastic on you. Let me buy it for you.”“Oh, no. That’s fine. I can pay for it.” “Oh, please, Celeste,” she argued gently. “Let me. I wasn’t around for you in your younger days, so just… let me do this…” She looked so vulnerable. How could I say no to that? So I nodded and smiled. “Thanks so much.” We were in a tiny boutique tucked into one of the narrow streets of Provence, sunlight spilling in through the window, dust motes dancing lazily
Soline’s POVThe bass hit first—vibrating through the floor, up my legs, right into my stomach.Same bar. Same group of people I used to call my friends.But everything felt different now.“Girl! You’re finally back!” Lissa squealed, throwing her arms around my neck. Her perfume was strong enough to choke a ghost. “We thought you died or something.”“I was just… busy,” I said, which was a lie, but whatever.They dragged me to a booth in the corner. Neon lights flashed across their faces—too bright, too sharp. Empty bottles already cluttered the table. Someone slid me a shot.“Soline, come on, don’t be boring,” Jay said, already high on something I didn’t want to identify. “We got the good stuff tonight.”He pulled out a small packet.My eyes widened. Months ago, I would’ve snatched it. No thinking. No hesitation. Anything to drown out the noise in my head.But now?“No,” I said simply.Four pairs of bleary eyes blinked at me.Lissa frowned. “Since when do you say no?”“Since I’m tryi
Celeste’s POV“Hold that straight,” Margaux said, tugging the edge of the fabric like it personally offended her. “If this hem ends up crooked, I’ll blame you forever.”I laughed softly and steadied the material. “It’s straight. You’re just dramatic.”She shot me a look over her glasses. “Dramatic people create good fashion.”“Right. And humble ones keep the business alive.”She snorted. “That would be you then.”We were knee-deep in the last batch of pieces for the Contrast Collection—reversible jackets, functional skirts, utility bags. Colette’s café was already promoting the upcoming showcase. Everything was finally moving forward, and for once, the weight on my chest felt lighter.My phone buzzed against the table.Margaux didn’t even look up. “If that’s Colette asking for another teaser photo, tell her she’s getting nothing until I finish this damn seam.”“It’s not her,” I said, wiping my hands on my apron before checking the screen.Damien.My lips betrayed me by smiling.He usu
Genevieve’s POVThe storm slammed against the cabin walls like fists, rattling the windows, shaking the floorboards.No escape. Not tonight.My cheek still burned where Lucien had slapped me—hot, pulsing pain radiating down my jaw. I didn’t touch it. Touching it would make it real, and I wasn’t ready to admit how real this had become.I sat on the edge of the old wooden chair, every muscle tight, eyes darting toward the kitchen counter. The knife glinted under the flickering lantern light. Just a few steps away.Can I do it?The thought slithered through me like poison.If it came to it, I won’t hesitate.Lucien paced in the corner, muttering to himself, sharpening a blade that already looked sharp enough to slice the storm clean in half. He seemed like a predator waiting for something to twitch.I felt a knot in my stomach. My heart raced. I’d gotten myself into bad situations before—flings with dangerous men, alliances with the wrong people—but never like this.Never trapped nor he
Alain’s POVI talked to her in my head the way drowning men pray.Celeste… please be okay. Please be alive.I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.The words looped through me like a pulse I couldn’t shut off.I had tried many times not to think of her too much, but my mind always snapped back to her. Especially to those last moments we were together in that car. And now I didn’t even know if she was breathing.I shoved my hand against a rough tree trunk, grounding myself, sucking in a shaky breath.“This is stupid,” I muttered to myself. “She’s out there. Somewhere. You don’t get to fall apart.”Henri had asked me to gather logs before the storm hit. Said it’d distract me. I wasn’t sure about that. But I still found myself wandering deeper into the forest, picking up fallen branches, stacking them under one arm.The sky above was changing—bruised purple bleeding into gray. The wind tasted like rain. The trees whispered warnings as their leaves shuddered.A storm was coming.I could feel it in
Nico’s POVI didn’t think. I just moved.Bootsteps approached the hallway, and the first door I saw was cracked open. I slipped inside fast, pressing the wood shut behind me without a sound. My pulse hammered so hard I could feel it in my throat.Great. Perfect. Hide in someone’s damn bedroom like a thief.Real smooth, Nico.Voices drifted from the kitchen—Martha’s and Sage’s—close enough that if I breathed too loud, they’d hear me.I froze, listening. Martha’s voice was low, strained. “He called again. He’s looking for you.”Everything inside me went still.A beat of silence, and then Sage’s voice—sharp and brittle. “I don’t care. He doesn’t own us anymore.”The words hit me harder than they should’ve. Who could be looking for her, and why did her voice carry anger and fear?“You should stop answering his calls. He’s dead to me. He should be dead to you too.” Her tone was sharp and full of pain at the same time. I could tell. But I shouldn’t care. It wasn’t my business. But still,







