登入ALISTAIR'S POV:I quickly dressed up and grab my keys. I am out the door before I can even think.The drive to her penthouse is a blur. I do not remember the traffic or the lights or the streets. I only remember the fear and the desperate need to get to her, to hold her, to make sure she is okay. My hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles are white. My jaw is clenched. My heart is pounding. I hit the gas pedal harder, ignoring every red light on the way.I arrive within minutes. Her door is unlocked when I push it open."Elara?" I call out."Here," she says. Her voice is small, coming from the back of the apartment.I follow the sound. I find her in her studio. She is on her knees, surrounded by the wreckage of her work. Her face is wet with tears, heer hands are shaking and her whole body is trembling.I kneel beside her. I take her in my arms. She clings to me, her fingers digging into my shirt, her face buried in my chest. She is crying. Her whole b
ELARA'S POV:A Few Days Later…The day had been long and exhausting.I spent hours at the studio, working on a new collection, trying to lose myself in the familiar rhythm of fabric and thread and design. The pieces were coming together beautifully, each one more intricate and delicate than the last. I was proud of what I was creating. I was excited about the future. The collection was going to be my best yet, a celebration of everything I had been through, everything I had overcome. I had spent so much time carefully choosing each color and pattern.But I was also tired. Bone tired that comes from carrying too much weight for too long. The scandal with Vivienne. The constant fear of being exposed. The relentless pressure of building a career while trying to protect the people I love. My body ached from standing over the cutting table all afternoon.All I wanted was to go home, take a hot bath, and forget about everything for a while.When I step into my penthouse, I know somet
MIRA'S POV:Hell no, I am not finished.That is the thought that circles through my head as I sit in my penthouse, staring at the photograph on my laptop screen. The room is dark except for the glow of the monitor. I am not finished. I am not done. I am not going to let Alistair Ashcroft reject me and walk away like I am nothing. I tap my fingernails against the desk as I stare at his face.He chose her. He chose Elara. He made me feel small and worthless and invisible.And now he is going to pay.I have been planning this for weeks. Every single part of this plan had to be calculated down to the smallest detail. The photograph is perfect. I hired a photographer, a man who specializes in this kind of work. He is very discreet but is fucking expensive and he is very, very good at his job. He did not ask what I needed it for, and I did not need to tell him.I found a man who looks like he could be Elara's type. Tall. Handsome. Dark hair. Blue eyes. He is an upcoming actor, a nobo
ALISTAIR'S POV:I walk out of the restaurant and I do not look back.The night air is cool on my face as I take a deep breath and the air fills my lungs, cold and clean.I feel something release in my chest. Relief. I was right to leave. I was right to be clear with her.Mira is dangerous. I have known that since the moment I saw her at that conference. She is brilliant and ambitious and she does not take rejection well. She wanted me. She wanted to possess me. And when she realized she could not have me, she turned cold. I saw it in her eyes, the shift from warmth to ice, the way her smile faltered and her hands clenched into fists.She is going to try something. I do not know what. But she is going to try something.My thoughts went to my Elara, the way she laugh, and her smile. The way she looks at me like I am the only person in the world. She is everything Mira is not. She is kind and genuine and loving. She does not play games. She does not manipulate. She just loves me. T
MIRA'S POV:I have been planning this dinner for weeks. I needed every single thing to go smoothly tonight.Every detail has been carefully considered. The restaurant, the menu, the lighting, the wine. I reserved the best table in the house, a private corner booth with soft lighting and a view of the city skyline. I chose a dress that leaves little to the imagination, a deep red number that hugs my curves and plunges in all the right places. I spent hours getting ready, making sure every strand of hair was in place, every brush of makeup was flawless. I checked my reflection in the mirror three times before leaving my apartment, making sure there was not a single flaw.I look like a woman who has everything under control.Because I do. I always do.Alistair arrives exactly on time. I watch him walk through the door, his tall frame cutting through the crowd, his gray eyes scanning the room until they land on me. He is wearing a dark suit that fits him perfectly, his dark hair swe
MIRA'S POV:It makes me sick. It makes me furious. It makes me want to destroy everything she loves.I think about the night I first saw them together. I was watching from across the street, hidden in the shadows, my heart pounding with jealousy and rage. They were walking hand in hand, their heads bent together, their voices low and intimate. She was laughing at something he said, and he was looking at her like she was the sun and the moon and the stars.I pulled my coat tighter around myself, standing in the freezing cold just to watch them step inside his warm lobby.I wanted to scream. I wanted to run across the street and tear them apart. I wanted to make her pay for taking what was mine.My hands were shaking inside my leather gloves, my nails digging deep into my palms until it hurt.But I did not do anything and that's because I am patient, I am smart and I am so strategic.I watch them. I wait. I plan.I think about the security cameras I have installed. The microphon
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
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







