INICIAR SESIÓNELARA'S POV:He kissed me like he was starving for me. Like I was the only thing keeping him alive. His hands were in my hair, his body pressed against mine, and I could feel how much he wanted me. His heart was pounding against my chest. His breath was hot on my skin."Alistair," I whispered against his lips."Elara," he growled. "I need you please. I have needed you all day."He walked me backward until my back hit the wall. The cold surface pressed against my shoulders through the thin fabric of his shirt. His hands were on my hips, lifting me, pressing me against the wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist. I could feel the hard length of him through his trousers.He was thick and hard and already pushing against me like he couldn’t wait another second. I rolled my hips once and felt him twitch. A deep groan rumbled out of his chest."I love you," he said. "I love you so much.""Show me," I said.He did.His hand shoved my underwear aside. Two thick fingers slid straight through
ALISTAIR'S POV:Some Weeks Later…I have been gathering evidence for weeks. Starting from the very first pictures that my girl had received in her email.Every text message, every photograph with every piece of evidence that proves Mira Patel has been stalking, harassing, and threatening Elara. I have spent countless late nights at my desk, sifting through digital files and printing out pages until my eyes burned. I have documents and also I have phone records. I have everything I need to destroy her.I have been patient enough, I have been strategic and that's because I have been waiting for the right moment to strike. And now that moment has come.I stand outside her penthouse, my hands clenched into fists, my jaw tight with rage. I have been waiting for this moment for weeks. The moment when I can finally confront her. The moment when I finally end this. I knock on the door. She opens it. Her eyes widen when she sees me. She is wearing a transparent robe with her hair falling
MAXWELL'S POV:I stand in front of the cameras, my hands in my pockets, my face calm and steady. The lights are bright, hot on my skin. The journalists are leaning forward, their pens poised with their recorders ready. I have done this before because I have faced the media before. I know how to handle them. I adjust my suit jacket and stare right into the main lens."Elara is my beloved niece," I say. "I love her. She is a good person. And she deserves to be happy."The questions come fast and furious."Are you saying you support her relationship with Alistair?""I am saying I support her," I say. "She is family. And family stands together.""Even after everything she did?""Especially after everything she did," I say. "That is what family does. We forgive, we heal and we move forward together."I look out at the crowd. I see the faces of the journalists. I see the cameras. I see the world watching."Elara is my niece," I say again. "I love her. And anyone who tries to hurt
CELESTINE'S POV:I knew the quiet peace of our lives was not going to last forever, but nothing could have prepared me for the sudden wave of news that hit us this morning. Seeing my family targeted like this makes my stomach turn. I hold my phone in my hand, staring down at the glowing screen in total shock as the notifications keep piling up.I open one of the links. It is a tabloid article, and the headline makes my blood freeze."Elara Ashcroft-Valancourt: The Daughter of a Murderer.""Elara's Secret Past Exposed.""The Truth About the Thornwell Heiress.""Why did she collide with those who wants to bring her adoptive parents down?""Why did the Ashcroft and Valancourt forgive such a shameless girl?""Why did Alistair dates her when he knows she wanted to destroy and kill his family years ago?"A wave of pure disgust rolls over me. The press is dragging her through the dirt all over again, twisting old pain into public entertainment. I close my eyes tight and force mysel
ALISTAIR'S POV:I wake up to the sound of my phone buzzing. It vibrates nonstop against the nightstand, shaking the whole table.It is early, too early. The sun is barely up as I reach for my phone, groggy and confused, and I see the notifications. Dozens of them. Hundreds of them. Messages and emails and alerts flooding my screen.I open one.It is a link to a tabloid article. The headline makes my blood run cold."Elara Ashcroft-Valancourt: The Daughter of a Murderer.""Elara's Secret Past Exposed.""The Truth About the Thornwell Heiress.""Why did she collide with those who wants to bring her adoptive parents down?""Why did the Ashcroft and Valancourt forgive such a shameless girl?""Why did Alistair dates her when he knows she wanted to destroy and kill his family years ago?"I sit up. My heart is pounding. I scroll through the article.The headlines are brutal. The story is filled with half-truths and outright lies. They are dragging Elara's past through the mud. Th
MIRA'S POV:I am so fucking furious right now, as in I am literally raging. I am burning with a fury that has been building for weeks, a fury that has been simmering beneath the surface of my carefully constructed facade, waiting for the moment when I could finally let it loose. I set my cup down on the table so hard that the coffee splashes over the rim.Elara confronted me. She walked into my penthouse like she owned the place. She threatened me. She made me feel small and powerless and weak and I fucking hate feeling small and powerless and weak.I am the one and only Mira Patel and like I bloody said before, I have money, power and connections. I have everything I have ever wanted. I am not supposed to feel small and I am not even supposed to feel powerless or even feel weak.But Elara made me feel all of those things all at once.And now she is going to pay.I decide to escalate. I hire a private investigator. A woman named Evelyn, who has a reputation for finding things
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
The first time Kier met Sable Morwenna was at a charity gala about six months after his father died.He was standing by the bar, looking miserable, drinking too much and wishing he could leave. And then this woman just appeared next to him, like she had materialized out of thin air."You look like
Kier Thornwell looked like he belonged on a magazine cover even when he was just standing in an elevator. Thirty eight years old. Strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Eyes so dark brown they looked black. A mouth that rarely smiled, but when it did, women forgot their own names. Six foot two. Carried h
The forgotten anniversaries. There had been three of those. Three times she had dressed up nice and made dinner and waited and waited and waited until finally getting a text that said "working late sorry" with no exclamation points, no emojis, no nothing.The cruel comments. Those were worse."You







