LOGINWhen I finally reach the condo, I get out of the car and take the elevator to her floor.I stop outside her door, hesitating for a moment before knocking.I look down at the small gift in my hand—the one I was supposed to give her when we landed—and a strange heaviness settles in my chest. It’s just a pair of earrings, but I remember the way her eyes lit up when she saw them at the mall with Cora years ago, how she lingered for a second longer than usual, like she really wanted them but didn’t dare say it out loud.And what did I do?I didn’t even let her finish looking. I dragged her out like her wishes didn’t matter, like she didn’t matter.Later, I bought the same pair for Hannah, thinking it meant something, but she never even wore them.Still, I kept them all this time, and now I don’t even know why—maybe because, somewhere deep down, I always knew they were never meant for anyone el
I freeze for a second, then roll my eyes. "Griffin. What the hell are you doing here?"He lets go of me, chuckling softly as he moves to flick on the lights.The room brightens, and I turn to see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking way too pleased with himself."I told you I was coming," he says, his eyes gleaming. "Or did you think I was joking?"I glare at him. "I thought you meant you'd come later, not that you'd already be here waiting for me."He shrugs, completely unapologetic. "I wanted to surprise you.""Well, consider me surprised," I mutter, dropping my bag on the couch. "But next time, maybe just knock like a normal person instead of lurking in the shadows.""Where's the fun in that?" he asks, smirking.I shake my head, trying to hide the smile that's threatening to break through.Damn him. He always knows how to get under my skin in the most annoying yet charming way possible.I glance around the apartment, noticing how everything looks brand new, like it's
[Elara]“Are you sure you want to stay here…” Damon looks up at the massive condo in front of him, a little less sure of himself, “…when you can stay at home?”Home. I almost laugh at the very concept.He probably doesn’t realize that the place he’s calling home is not my home anymore. It never was. For me, it was a place that provided a roof but no warmth. Four walls but no security. A bed but no peace.The memories of that place are still fresh in my mind, especially from when I first moved in after getting married to him. Not only did he make sure the maids and other staff members knew my status in the family by treating me like garbage in front of them, but he also gave the entire household the freedom to mistreat me however they liked.They would hand me a burnt breakfast while serving him a perfect one, and when I complained, he would turn a blind eye. They would spill tea on me “accidentally,” yet he would still ask me to apologize because, apparently, it was my fault for being
[Beatrice]I stare at the phone, frowning so hard I can feel the lines etching into my skin.Damn that son of mine.Damn him to hell.After everything I did for him—after all the sacrifices I made, all the schemes I pulled to keep this family from falling apart—he still has the nerve to defy me.To choose that useless woman over his own family.I pace the length of the living room, my heels clicking against the marble floor, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides.After seeing Hannah’s true colors, I realized I had been wrong about Elara. Perhaps I misjudged her. Went too hard on her. Made her go through all that humiliation for nothing.Yes, I regretted letting her go. I regretted it because seeing Damon after she was gone was far more painful than I had imagined.But my regret was short-lived. Sure, she might not have been as cunning and scheming as her sister, but that didn’t make her useful.She was a good-for-nothing housewife back then. And she would still be the same no
[Damon]It happened too quickly.One moment I was walking beside Elara, enjoying the warm sun on my face, and the next—bam—there were cameras everywhere, microphones shoved in her face, reporters screaming questions like they’ve been dying to ask them for years.And the worst part? She froze.I saw it in her eyes—the momentary panic, the way she tensed up, like she was bracing for impact.I was about to step in front of her, shield her from the chaos, but then something changed.Her expression shifted. The panic vanished, replaced by something colder, harder, more controlled.And before I could even process what was happening, she grabbed the microphone right out of the reporter's hand and spoke.“You’re asking the wrong person. The day Mr. Blackwood and I got divorced, I took my daughter and left the country. Whatever happened after that has nothing to do with me.”The silence that followed was deafening.Then, like a dam had broken, the cameras started flashing again, the questions
I remember him once telling me that the Gordons had always given birth to the most courageous people in the world—that courage wasn’t just something they admired, it was something woven into their very blood, something no one in their lineage had ever betrayed by turning their back on an enemy.Back then, his words had felt distant, almost unreal, like they belonged to a legacy I wasn’t sure I had any claim to.But now, as he looks at me with that steady, unmistakable pride—his eyes brighter, his shoulders straighter—I can’t help but wonder if this is what he sees.Not doubt. Not hesitation. But certainty.As if, in this moment, I have finally become everything the Gordon name stands for.The daughter who stood her ground. The daughter who chose to fight. The daughter who didn’t just live up to his legacy—but made him prouder than he had ever expected to be.The thought should make me feel proud.Instead, it sits heavy in my chest—like a weight I don’t quite know how to carry.Because
[Elara]The rest of the day I spend with Cora, talking about endless things. Playing games. Being their muse as Miranda and Jazz sketch me with the best of their skills.I also help Jazz with dinner, and we all eat together, chatting away happily.It’s only after Cora and Miranda fall asleep and ar
[Elara]I wake up to find myself in a hospital suite.Blinking rapidly, I try to make sense of whatever the hell is going on.The last thing I remember is getting into the car with Dr. Wolfe, and after that…“Finally awake, I see,” comes a voice from my right.I turn my head—and immediately wish I
[Elara]I’ve only been to the Midnight Club twice in my life.Once, when Damon took me there for a get-together with his close friends, and the second time when his friend Harry called me to pick him up after he got drunk out of his mind.“You okay?” Dr. Wolfe asks, probably wondering why I suddenl
[Elara]Before letting me into the cell, Officer Bentley allows me to make two calls.One to Jazz, and the other to Gwen.While Jazz sounds calm and collected after hearing my situation, Gwen is full of frantic questions, fussing over me.If it were up to her, she would have taken another hour for







