เข้าสู่ระบบELARA'S POV:The helicopter cuts through the sky, the blades chopping through the air. I look down at the familiar landscape. The fields. The forests. The manor, warm and golden in the afternoon light. The high stone walls surrounding the estate bring a sudden sense of relief.I land on the lawn. My mother is waiting for me at the door since I had called her that I was coming. She is standing under the awning, her arms wrapped around herself, her face etched with worry."Elara," she says. "What is wrong? You sounded upset on the phone."I walk toward her and I hug her. She feels warm and familiar and safe."We need to talk," I say. "It is about Camille."My mother's expression shifts. She leads me inside.We sit in the living room which was warm. The portraits of my ancestors from my father side look down at me from the walls."Camille called me yesterday evening," I say. "Nikolai Drakon has been released from prison and he is looking for her. He wants revenge plus he wants h
CAMILLE'S POV:I swallow. "I didn't know I have your number until I saw it, maybe your father gave me, I don't know but I have your number and I never thought I would need to use it. But I do. I need your help."The silence stretches between us. I can feel the weight of her hesitation. I cannot blame her. I disappeared. I cut off all contact. I ran from everything and everyone."Camille," she says slowly. "What is wrong?"I take a breath. "Nikolai has been released from prison. He is looking for me. He wants revenge. He wants his daughter back and me."She is silent for another moment. When she speaks, her voice is sharp with alarm."Are you sure?""I am sure. He sent me a letter. He knows where I am. I do not know how he found me, but he did." My voice breaks. "Elara, I am scared. I do not know who else to turn to. I have no one left. You are the only family I have."She exhales slowly. I can hear the tension in her voice."Camille," she says. "I am going to help you. I am
CAMILLE'S POV:The rain is falling like there is no tomorrow against the windows of my small cottage in the countryside.I have been living here for years, hiding from the world, hiding from my past, hiding from the man who still haunts my nightmares. The house is small, but it is mine. I bought it with the little money I had left, a modest place with a small yard and my own car parked in the driveway. I do not want any friends, and I hope no one around here knows who I really am. I like this neighborhood for that exact reason. Everyone keeps to themselves, minds their own business, and faces their own front. But even with the quiet streets and normal routines, there is still just me, my daughter, and the constant, gnawing fear that one day he will find us. Outside, the wind rattles the old window frames, making me flinch at every sudden noise.I sit at the kitchen table, staring at the letter in my hands. The paper is cheap and crumpled, the handwriting jagged and angry and I hav
ELARA'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 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







