LOGIN[Griffin]“This is honestly too much,” Elara whines for what must be the hundredth time, but I still ignore her. “Please, pack that. And that one. In fact, do one thing—pack everything from this designer in her size.”The store manager nods and walks away to relay the orders, while Elara lets out a heavy breath.“I swear to God, if I step into another store after this one, I’m going to kill you.”I can’t help but laugh. “What’s the harm? We’re just shopping.”“Shopping and looting are two very different things, Griffin. You know that, right?”I roll my eyes. “I’m just making sure my wife has everything she needs. What’s wrong with that?”She gives me a look. “My needs don’t include fifty bags of clothes, shoes, and jewelry that I’ll never wear.”“You never know,” I reply, smirking. “Maybe you’ll change your mind.”“Unlikely,” she mutters, but there’s no real heat in her voice—just exasperation, which I find amusing.I reach out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You know,
The next morning, I wake up to the fragrance of something really delicious.I sit up, blinking at the empty space beside me where Griffin was supposed to be. The sheets are still warm, though.A small smile tugs at my lips as I get out of bed, slipping into my gown and heading toward the kitchen.Sure enough, Griffin is there, standing by the stove, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants—again—and a white shirt that’s unbuttoned just enough to be distracting. His hair is still damp, and he's humming softly to himself as he flips something in the pan.I lean against the doorway, watching him for a moment."Morning," I say, my voice still a little rough from sleep.He turns, his lips curving into a smile when he sees me. "Morning. I didn't want to wake you, but I made breakfast. Thought you'd need some energy after last night."I raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"He winks. "You know I'm always thinking of you."I roll my eyes, but I can't help the warmth spreading in my chest.He's
[Elara]When Damon finally drops me back at my place, I have nothing left to say to him.I feel so exhausted all of a sudden, I can’t even pretend to hold a conversation. And he knows it too."Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" he asks again, for the third time. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he doesn't want to leave.But I can't let him stay.I need to be alone. To process everything that happened tonight.Everything he said. Everything I heard. Everything I still don’t know what to make of."I'm fine, really," I say, giving him a tired smile. "I just need some rest."He hesitates, his hand still on the door like he’s waiting for me to change my mind. When I don’t, he finally nods."Alright. But if you need anything—anything at all—call me. I'll be here.""Thank you, Damon."I don't wait for him to respond.I just step inside and close the door gently behind me, leaning against it for a moment, my eyes closing as I let out a slow breath.And then, for the first time si
[Damon]I have no idea why I said that.It just slipped out.Maybe because it had been sitting inside me for years, growing heavier with every day I spent with Hannah.And when it finally came out, I realized I should have said it sooner.I expect Elara to react—maybe pull her hand away, or maybe just stay quiet—but she doesn’t do either of those things.Instead, she looks up at me, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she laces her fingers through mine.“I don’t know about that,” she says softly, almost like she’s trying to be kind. “Hannah was a lot prettier than me. I don’t think you would have preferred me over her at all.”For a second, I just stare at her.Is she serious?Does she really think I’d choose beauty over substance? That I’d marry someone just because she looked good in photos?I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “You really think I’m that shallow, don’t you?”She blinks, like I caught her off guard. “No, I didn’t mean—”“Yes, you did,” I cut in, my voice drop
When I step back inside, Damon is waiting for me by the door, his expression unreadable. "Ready?" he asks. I nod. "Yeah. Let's go."We head back to the drawing room, only to find Beatrice and Archer in the middle of some sort of argument. Although, the moment we enter, they step away, stopping whatever their little tiff was about.Archer is the first to put on a smile and welcome us back. “So, ready for dinner? Trust me, I am. I’m kind of starving.”In the dining room, the tension between Archer and Beatrice continues—and it’s even more obvious now. They sit as far apart as possible. Beatrice takes the head of the table, while Archer sits at the opposite end. They don’t even look at each other, and when they do, it’s only to glare or roll their eyes.I’ll be honest—I’ve never seen Archer act like this. He’s never been the type to openly show disagreement or dislike. If anything, he’s always been the one to smooth things over. The one to tell everyone to calm down and take a walk. Th
I never thought I would feel this bad for any of the Blackwoods.But here I am, feeling as terrible as humanly possible.Now I understand why Damon must have held back—why he didn’t tell me the truth about this. He must have known their condition would make me feel guilty. The fact that it happened because of the car accident—the car I wasn’t even in—makes it even worse.I never imagined anyone could care about Cora and me this much—enough to fall so gravely ill.But I should have known.And now, my thoughtlessness makes me feel like the worst person in the room.At the sight of me, Grandma smiles so big it hurts my heart."Elara, you're finally here, my child." She wraps her arms around me. "It's so good to see you. I never wanted to believe that we lost Cora and you forever. And I didn't." She pulls away, looking down at her husband. "Didn't I always say that our Elara is too strong to just die like that?"Grandpa doesn't respond. There's not even a flicker of movement.But his wife
[Hannah]During the entire ride home, Damon stays terrifyingly quiet.No matter how much I try to spark a conversation—or distract him—he doesn’t say a word. His gaze remains glued to the road, his fingers tightly wrapped around the steering wheel.When he finally pulls the car over, he punches the
[Elara]The next morning, I get a call from Jordan—Damon’s assistant.“Mrs. Blackwood. Sir wants you to prepare his lunch and bring it to the office today.”“What?” Damon has never taken lunch to the office before. What is he trying to do now? Why the sudden change of heart?“Sir wants you to prepa
I pull my head back and stare at him with every intelligent cell in my body.Now I’m more sure than ever—something is definitely not right with him.Not only is he acting strange, but his words make no sense either.Still, I do my best not to lose it. It’s his office—his territory. The best thing I
[Damon]I watch Elara walk out of the office.And the moment she’s out of sight, I scowl and kick the desk with all I have.“Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!”I hiss through my teeth, hopping back and clutching my foot like an idiot.“Damn it,” I mutter, sinking into the chair behind my desk.I can’t believe she







