LOGINVioletta stood in front of the mirror, her eyes empty as she stared at her reflection. Her heart ached, but there was a part of her that felt cold, distant. She couldn’t hold onto the anger anymore. It was replaced with something worse—an aching emptiness, like her heart had been hollowed out.She had given him everything. She had loved him with every ounce of herself, trusted him more than anyone ever could. But the betrayal… it was too much.She grabbed a small suitcase from the closet, her movements mechanical, almost robotic. There were no tears, no shouting, no dramatic scene. She simply packed her things—enough to survive on her own, to start fresh without him.She picked up the framed photo of her family from the bedside table and set it down gently. The picture of them together, smiling, was a reminder of the life she once believed was hers.Her fingers trembled as she packed a few clothes into the suitcase—things she could wear, things she could leave behind. She couldn’t tak
The tension had been building all week. First, there were the reports. Then Draven was talking to his advisors nonstop. It all led up to the morning when Draven stood by the window. The morning light framed his silhouette. His expression was dark and hard to read.The rogues had attacked the border again. This time, they were more aggressive than before. Their last attack took out some outposts. This time it was different. They were getting ready for something.Draven turned to face her. His eyes looked tired."I need to go, Violetta. Our pack's security is at risk. I have to protect our territory."Violetta felt a knot in her chest. She kept her voice steady. "I know you have to go," she said. "I trust you." She stepped closer. "Promise me you'll be careful. You're not just fighting for the pack anymore."He took her hand. His touch was warm and comforting. "I promise, Violetta. I'll be back soon."Even as he spoke, she saw doubt in his eyes. There was more to this fight. It wasn't t
The days following that evening were filled with a rare peace. Though the world outside still swirled with the same tensions, the estate felt different—lighter. Draven’s focus had shifted. He spent more time at home, more time with Violetta and their children. They found moments of normalcy that they had once believed would forever elude them. He even managed to take a step back from the pack’s never-ending demands, allowing Violetta to breathe a little easier.Violetta, too, felt a weight lifted from her chest. There were still occasional doubts, shadows that lingered, but for the first time in a long time, she felt like the future was within their reach. There were no more secrets. No more whispers or hidden agendas. Just them.One morning, as she sat by the window, cradling a cup of tea, her phone buzzed.It was a message from Mara.I need to see you. Important.Violetta’s brow furrowed. Mara hadn’t been in contact for a few days, and with everything that had been going on, Violett
The days following the successful operation were quieter than expected.Draven didn’t take time to rest. Even with the mercenaries neutralized and the damage contained, his mind raced. Every decision felt heavy now—his family, the pack, Violetta, the twins. Everything was connected, and nothing was ever simple.Violetta noticed the change in him. He was more withdrawn, his thoughts always on the next move, the next threat. His eyes no longer held the sharp edge they usually did—now, they were haunted. As though the weight of everything had finally begun to sink in.She found him in the study late one evening, the same room where so many decisions had been made. The room that once felt like a place of power now seemed like a cage, his mind trapped inside it.She stepped inside without knocking, her presence like a breath of fresh air in the heavy silence.“Draven,” she said softly, moving toward him.He didn’t look up at first. His fingers were splayed out across the table, papers and
The drive back to the estate was quieter than usual. Violetta sat beside Draven, her fingers still resting against his. The soft hum of the car engine and the rhythmic swish of the tires on wet pavement was all that filled the space between them. No words were needed. For the first time in a long time, they didn’t have to explain themselves. They didn’t have to strategize. There was peace in the quiet. But even peace had a way of crumbling. As they neared the estate, Draven’s phone buzzed from his pocket. He glanced at it briefly before silencing it. Violetta noticed. “You’re still getting calls?” His eyes flicked toward her, the faintest flicker of regret passing through them. “Nothing important,” he said quietly. She raised an eyebrow. “Lies,” she said softly, her gaze returning to the road ahead. He chuckled, though it was half-hearted. “Okay, fine. It’s work. Always.” “You don’t have to lie.” He didn’t answer at first, his fingers tightening briefly on the steering wh
The storm didn’t follow them.By the time the car left the estate gates, the rain had softened into a quiet drizzle, and the sky had begun to clear. The tension from the war room still lingered, but something about the open road—about leaving the suffocating walls behind—shifted the air between them.Violetta leaned back in her seat, exhaling slowly.“For once,” she murmured, “we’re driving toward danger and it doesn’t feel… suffocating.”Draven glanced at her briefly.“That’s because you’re with me.”She turned her head slightly, raising an eyebrow.“That’s a very arrogant statement.”“It’s an accurate one.”She let out a small breath of laughter.It was soft.Unforced.And for the first time in days, it didn’t hurt.Draven noticed.Of course he did.His hand moved instinctively, brushing lightly against hers resting on the seat between them.“You needed that,” he said quietly.“I needed a lot of things,” she replied, her tone gentler now. “Peace. Sleep. Less chaos.”“And yet,” he ad
He slipped through a narrow service route Liam clearly knew too well, pressing himself against the concrete wall before lifting a finger to his lips.“Stay quiet,” he mouthed.Violetta nodded, though her heart was already slamming violently against her ribs.They moved like shadows, the hum of dist
Violetta woke slowly, as if surfacing from a deep, heavy ocean.The first thing she noticed was the quiet.Not the peaceful kind—but the kind that presses against your ears, thick with things unsaid.Her head throbbed. Her throat felt dry. When she tried to move, a sharp ache bloomed behind her eye
Violetta didn’t leave the room that day.Hours passed, measured only by the slow shift of light behind the curtains and the ache in her chest that refused to fade. Every time she closed her eyes, the gunshot echoed again—sharp, final, merciless. And behind it, Draven’s face. Not cruel. Not frantic.
The announcement came midway through the morning briefing.A field trip.Two days. A countryside retreat owned by one of the company’s partners. Nature, architecture, textures, colors—inspiration, they called it. Mandatory attendance. Group-based concept development. No exceptions.Violetta felt he







