LOGINISABELLE'S POV:The room I was in was enormous which was what I noticed when my hands finally grew too sore to keep pounding on the door and I allowed myself to turn around and actually look at my surroundings. The ceiling was high and rounded and the walls were made of pale, smooth stone that felt cool and slightly rough under my fingertips, partially covered in large fabric tapestries even the furniture was massive and solid, carved from rich mahogany and completely ornate and imposing. It was goof though, but not as good like my warm London penthouse.My penthouse was good I guess but this room felt like a museum, a grand showcase for immense wealth and authority that felt far more like a lockup than a place to rest.I slowly walked over to the nearest window. The glass was unusually thick and sturdy, and when I pressed my forehead against it, I could see the vast estate grounds stretching out far below me. I saw that the green lawns were high walls topped with sharp iron spik
DAMON'S POV:I forced her into the passenger side of my car. She landed on the soft leather seat with a sharp gasp, her dark hair falling across her pale face, her wide eyes filled with absolute fright. I slammed the heavy door shut, walked around the front, and climbed into the driver's seat. I turned the key and started the engine.She was crying fully now. Her narrow shoulders were shaking with every breath, her face buried deep into her trembling hands."Why are you doing this?" she sobbed out, looking at me from behind her fingers. "Why are you doing this to me after all these years?"I did not answer her. I could not answer her even if I wanted to. I was far too angry, too hurt, and far too desperate to get to the bottom of her secrets.I drove fast. I drove straight through the busy streets of London, passing the familiar buildings, the crowded sidewalks, and the parks where we used to spend our afternoons as kids. I drove until the busy city slowly faded away behind us. I
DAMON'S POV:The silence stretched between usI stood in the center of her penthouse living room, my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides, my jaw burning with barely contained rage. She was still standing near the wall, her face pale, her eyes wet, her whole body trembling like a dry leaf in the wind. She looked so fragile, breakable, and small. She looked like she was about to shatter into a thousand pieces right in front of me.But I did not care. I could not afford to care anymore. She had broken my life once, and I had spent eight long years trying to put myself back together in the dirt. I would not let her soft face break me a second time."I told you the truth," she whispered. Her voice was small, cracked, and completely broken. "I told you I regretted everything. I told you I was sorry."Her words hung in the air between us, fragile and desperate. I could see fresh tears threatening to spill from her brown eyes, could see the way her small hands were shaking uncon
DAMON'S POV:I watched her crumble in front of me, her face losing all its color, and I tried to force myself to feel nothing.That was a complete lie. I felt everything all at once. I felt the massive wave of black anger that had been building inside my chest for eight whole years. I felt the deep, raw pain that had never truly healed, no matter how many military ribbons or billions of dollars I accumulated. I felt a desperate, burning need to make her stand there and understand the exact scale of the damage she had caused.She was still painfully beautiful. That was the very first thing my eyes registered the second she opened the door. Even after eight long years apart, she was still the most stunning woman I had ever laid eyes on. Her dark hair was falling in soft, heavy waves around her narrow shoulders. Her wide brown eyes were swimming with raw fear. Her soft lips were slightly parted, trembling as she tried to catch her breath.But I refused to let her beauty soft-talk me
ISABELLE'S POV:I stood completely frozen, staring at the man occupying my doorway.Damon Varek. The boy I had loved with every fiber of my being. The boy whose heart I had shattered into a million pieces. The boy who had vanished into the night and returned as an absolute stranger.He was so much taller than I remembered, broader across the shoulders, and far more imposing. The eight years apart had completely transformed him from a lean, gentle teenager into a hardened man who commanded the entire room without even trying. His dark suit was clearly custom made, cut to perfection, and hugging the broad lines of his powerful frame. His thick dark hair was neatly swept back from his face, highlighting the sharp, rigid angles of his jawline and the set mouth that held no warmth for me.But it was his eyes that held me completely captive, pinning me to the floorboards. They were the exact same eyes I had fallen in love with all those years ago, dark, intense, and holding a depth tha
ISABELLE'S POV:Clara hesitated, nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot. "He refused to give me his name," she admitted softly. "He just told me to tell you that an old friend was here. He said you would know exactly who he was, and he said it was extremely important."I slowly stood up from my chair. My knees felt so weak I had to rest my hand on the desk to keep from swaying. My mind was racing out of control, trying to make sense of the sudden terror gripping my chest. I did not know why, but I had a terrible, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was an overwhelming sense that my quiet world was about to enter complete disorder, shattering the fragile peace I had spent eight long years trying to build for myself.I forced my feet to move, walking out of my office and heading down the long hallway toward the front foyer of my penthouse. Every single one of my footsteps echoed loudly on the white marble floor. My heart was pounding so hard and fast that I could he
Celestine Valancourt stood in the bathroom of her penthouse apartment, her bare feet cold against the imported marble floor, staring at a little plastic stick that had just completely and utterly rearranged her entire universe. There were two little pink lines staring back at her. Two little lines
KIER'S POV:I pour myself a drink and I sit in the dark and I wait for her to come back.She always comes back.But she does not come back.A week passes. Then another. The penthouse stays empty. My calls go straight to voicemail. My texts go unanswered. I send messages through her email, through s
She watched from the window as her father walked out to greet him.August Valancourt shook Lysander's hand with both of his, the way he did with people he truly respected, and he said something that made Lysander nod solemnly. Then her mother appeared, and Isabelle kissed Lysander on both cheeks, t
Celestine started cooking at three in the afternoon, flour on her hands, music playing low from her phone and the smell of tomatoes and garlic filling the whole penthouse.She made the sauce from scratch, the way her grandmother taught her when she was maybe ten years old. She rolled out the pasta







