LOGINThe house stayed awake even when Violetta couldn’t.Paper covered the dining table, spilled onto the floor, and was stacked on the couch. Half-drawn silhouettes, fabric swatches, color palettes taped together with trembling fingers. She had been working for hours—erasing, redrawing, starting over—her mind racing faster than her body could keep up with.“You have to win this challenge, Vee. You have to show them what you are capable of,” She said to herself and put the empty cup of coffee on the table, but still a lot of work was left. By midnight, her eyes burned.By one, her hands shook.She told herself just one more sketch, but exhaustion won.Her head tipped forward slowly, cheek resting against a spread of papers, pencil slipping from her fingers as sleep claimed her without mercy.The room was quiet when Draven stepped in. He paused the moment he saw her.Mask still on, he stood there longer than he meant to—watching her breathe softly, lashes resting against flushed skin, hai
By the end of the week, the air around Violetta had shifted.Not warm. But no longer hostile.People had stopped whispering the moment she entered a room. Some even nodded now—brief, cautious acknowledgments, but acknowledgments nonetheless. She didn’t push conversations. Didn’t force smiles. She let her work speak for her, and slowly, it did.That was how she heard about the competition.It came up casually during lunch—two designers talking animatedly near the coffee machine. Violetta paused, tray in hand, listening without meaning to.“…international exposure,” one said. “And only one designer from the company can apply.”Her heart skipped.She turned to the woman beside her. “Sorry—what competition?”The coworker looked surprised, then smiled faintly. “You didn’t hear? It’s huge. Concept-based. Original design philosophy. Three stages. It’s every designer’s dream.”Something inside Violetta ignited.She asked questions. Listened carefully. Memorized every rule.By the time lunch
Across the city, Selene smiled at her reflection.The rumors were spreading beautifully.Whispers of a monster. Of red eyes seen in the dark. Of a beast guarding its territory.She had fed them carefully—anonymous posts, frightened “witnesses,” leaked photos edited just enough to feel real.A shadowed figure. Claws. Blood.“People don’t need truth,” Selene said softly, scrolling through her phone. “They need fear.”And fear traveled fast.Especially when it wore the face of a king.Her smile sharpened.“If she’s going to stand beside him,” Selene murmured, “then she should know exactly what kind of monster she married.“What are you planning, Selene? You know how dangerous this move this? What if he finds out about your secret trick… are you ready to face the consequences too?” Her mother said, and she rolled her eyes in frustration. “Mother! You are here to support me, not to make me fail. But, I think you are not aware of your role, right? Do not forget that all the luxuries wh
By the time Violetta reached home, exhaustion clung to her bones. She threw her bag on the couch and looked around. She was feeling tired, not the kind that sleep fixed—but the kind that settled deep, born of humiliation, restraint, and pretending not to care. She slipped off her shoes and stood there for a moment, staring at the quiet house.Too quiet.“Asher?” she called softly.No answer.She checked the living room. The kitchen. His absence pressed against her chest in a way she couldn’t explain. He hadn’t been there in the morning. He hadn’t called. A strange unease crawled up her spine. Aunt Brigid wasn’t present in the kitchen either, so all the silence was making her feel creepy. She felt like she heard a noise from downstairs, so he followed it.The stairs leading down were dimly lit, the air growing colder with each step. The basement door stood slightly ajar. She gulped hard, and she knew that Alpha Draven warned her not to go there, but tonight her curiosity got the best
Selene didn’t panic.She adapted. She dialled a number and informed him about the necessary arrangement. She needed a scapegoat at this moment, and her special men would arrange something for her… she knew. She paid a large amount, but it was nothing in front of her jealousy. By the next morning, a name was circulating quietly—an expendable middleman, someone desperate enough to accept blame in exchange for protection. Papers were forged, testimonies rehearsed, and a convincing trail laid out with surgical precision. The world would believe the incident was nothing more than a greedy attempt by a lowlife chasing easy money.And Violetta?She would walk away clean.Selene hated that part.But hate was patient. She didn’t know that someone had already sensed her move, and now, he was behind the person who staged this drama. Selene’s drama convinced the world around her but not him, he was still searching for the real mastermind. Three days later, Violetta stood in front of a glass bu
Violetta woke to silence.Not the peaceful kind—but the heavy, pressing kind that made her chest feel tight before her mind even caught up. Her head throbbed dully, and she slowly held her head. The faint scent of antiseptic mixed with something familiar… something warm.Leather with a strong musky scent. She turned her face slightly and froze.Asher was there.Seated beside the bed, head bowed, one hand resting on the edge like he was afraid to touch her too much. His knuckles were scraped raw, faint bruises blooming beneath the skin. His jaw was tight, eyes shadowed, as if he hadn’t slept at all.Her memory returned in fragments.The interview. The water. The dizziness. The room. The fear.Her breath hitched.She pushed herself up too fast and immediately winced.Asher was on his feet in an instant.“Hey—slow down,” he said gently, but his voice carried something sharp beneath it. Fear. Barely contained. “You’re safe.”Safe.The word made her hands tremble.“I… I remember calli







