ANMELDENDAMON'S POV:She was resting on her side, facing toward me with her soft hair spread out across the pillowcase and one hand resting lightly on the mattress between us. Her expression looked completely peaceful, her breathing slow and regular in her sleep.I stayed still and watched her for a long while, feeling a deep swell of appreciation and warmth in my chest.I moved my hand carefully across the sheet and touched her fingers.Her eyes opened gently at the contact. She looked up at me, her gaze slightly sleepy but full of quiet affection."Hey," she whispered softly."Hey," I replied in a quiet tone."You should be resting.""I could say the same about you."A small, sweet smile appeared on her lips."I could not fall asleep over in the chair," she murmured, moving just a fraction closer. "I wanted to be close to you."I looked at the woman who had stood by me through the most difficult moments, who had cared for me without hesitation, and who had given me a real reason
DAMON'S POV:Isabelle sighed softly, walking over to sit beside me on the bed. "What am I going to say when I go visit them? How do I explain everything that happened over these past few weeks without causing a massive panic?"I reached out and placed my hand over hers, offering a steady, comforting squeeze."You share the truth with her when the time feels right," I said softly. "When you feel ready and comfortable. You do not have to carry any guilt, because every decision you made was out of care and protection for the people you love."She looked down at our joined hands, taking a quiet breath, before leaning forward to press a soft kiss against my cheek.She took it upon herself to prepare dinner for us every single evening.I had honestly assumed she relied mostly on quick meals and takeout coffee like a lot of busy writers tend to do. However, she proved me completely wrong with her effort and care in the kitchen.On the first evening, she cooked a simple dish of pasta t
DAMON'S POV:The days that followed were some of the most unusual moments of my entire life.I had spent years serving in difficult environments, living under tough conditions, and surviving situations that would have overwhelmed most people. I was used to handling my own minor injuries, taking care of myself in rough spots, and pushing through physical discomfort without a single complaint.None of those past experiences prepared me for what it felt like to be looked after by someone who genuinely cared.Isabelle refused to let me move a muscle if she could help it. She stayed nearby whenever I tried to get out of bed, ensuring I walked at a slow pace. She did not let me navigate the wide staircase on my own, insisted on carrying everything for me, and stepped in the moment I tried to do anything that might stretch my healing wound or slow down my progress."You are going to spoil me completely," I teased one morning as she walked into the bedroom carrying a wooden breakfast tr
ISABELLE'S POV:"I am well aware.""I do not require a personal escort.""I know that too.""I am fully capable of walking up a few steps—""Damon," I interrupted softly.He quieted down and looked up at me, his gaze softening right away."Let me lend a hand," I said, keeping my tone gentle. "Please."He let out a quiet sigh, a slightly dramatic one meant to show he was yielding under protest. Even so, he did not argue any further. He reached out his good hand toward mine.I took hold of his fingers, providing a firm base as he stepped out of the vehicle. He leaned a good portion of his weight against my shoulder, his body warm and solid, and we made our way up the front entryway together, taking one careful step at a time.Damon had given most of the household staff the afternoon off so he could rest without any extra noise. The property security team remained posted around the outer perimeter, leaving just the two of us inside the main residence.I guided him through the
ISABELLE'S POV:The medical team discharged Damon three days after he woke up.Three long days of busy nurses, constant checking. Three days of bland liquid meals, stiff chairs, and the persistent knot of worry that had been resting in my chest ever since Viktor confronted us. Three days of sitting beside his bed, watching his steady breathing, and watching him gradually rebuild his energy step by step.I felt completely wiped out. I was running on pure adrenaline, willpower, and tiny fruit snacks from the lobby vending machine down the corridor. I had not slept a full night in nearly a week, and I had not enjoyed a proper home-cooked dinner in longer than I cared to admit. My hair was tied up in a messy knot, and my clothes were terribly wrinkled. I looked like someone who had spent four straight days living out of a hospital visitor room.Yet none of that mattered because he was alive. He was awake, stable, and finally coming back home.I drove him back toward his estate in hi
ISABELLE'S POV:The hospital room was quiet and peaceful.The monitors kept up a steady, comforting rhythm in the corner.I sat right beside Damon's bed, holding his hand in both of mine and watching his chest rise and fall with every breath. He had been awake for a few hours now, drifting in and out of restful sleep while his body worked hard to heal. The medical team had already assured us that he was completely out of danger and that his recovery was moving along well, but I do not think I truly believed them until this exact moment.He was looking right at me. His eyes were wide open, clear, and completely focused. He was not drifting off to sleep anymore. He was entirely awake and present in the room.He looked at me as if I was the most important person in his entire world."Damon," I said softly, leaning closer to the mattress. "What are you thinking about?"He did not answer right away. He simply kept his gaze on my face, letting his eyes trace my features carefully as
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
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
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







