MasukALISTAIR'S POV:The villa sits on the cliffs of Santorini, white walls and blue shutters and a balcony that hangs over the caldera like it is floating. The water below is the color of sapphires, deep and endless, and the sunsets here turn the sky into something you would not believe if you only saw a photograph. A warm, sea-salted breeze sweeps up from the water below, rustling the linen curtains hanging near the doorway.I stand on the balcony, looking out at the view, and I feel like I am dreaming.Elara is beside me, her hand in mine, her head resting on my shoulder. She is wearing a simple white sundress, her dark hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She looks beautiful. She always looks beautiful."We are here," she says. "We are actually here."I squeeze her hand. I kiss the top of her head."We are," I say. "We made it."She looks up at me. Her brown eyes are bright with joy."I love you," she says."I love you too," I say.We stand there together, watchi
ELARA'S POV: The morning of my wedding dawns bright and clear, the sun rising over the valley like a promise. I stand in front of the mirror in my childhood room at Ashcroft Manor, my hands trembling, my heart pounding. The dress is hanging on the door, white and elegant and beautiful. Isabelle's design, with my personal touches. The lace bodice, the flowing skirt, the delicate embroidery that catches the light like scattered stars. It is the most beautiful dress I have ever seen. And I am about to wear it. Hope is beside me and her brown eyes bright with excitement. She is wearing a soft pink dress, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders. She looks grown up, beautiful, ready to stand by my side. She shifts nervously on her feet, holding a small silver box of pearl hairpins in her hands. "Elara," she says. "Are you ready?" I take a breath. I look at myself in the mirror. I am about to marry the man I love. The man I have loved since I was eighteen years old. The ma
ELARA'S POV:The garden at Ashcroft Manor is transformed.White flowers hang from every archway, their petals soft and fragrant in the warm afternoon light. Fairy lights are woven through the branches of the oak trees, waiting for the evening to come alive. The tables are draped in ivory linen, the chairs tied with pale pink ribbons, the centerpieces overflowing with roses and hydrangeas. A small stage has been set up at the far end, where a string quartet is playing soft, elegant music. The gentle rustle of leaves blends with the soft hum of chatter from early arriving guests.This is my bridal shower.I stand at the edge of the garden, looking at the scene before me, and I feel tears prick my eyes. My friends and family are here. The people I love most in the world have gathered to celebrate me, to celebrate my happiness, to celebrate the future I am about to build. I smooth down the front of my light dress, taking in the sweet smell of fresh cut blossoms carried on the breeze.
ALISTAIR'S POV:The private room at the back of the restaurant is warm and dimly lit, it's a place that feels intimate without being pretentious. The walls are lined with old photographs, the tables covered in white linen, the candles flickering softly in the center of each one. The food is incredible, the wine is flowing, and the conversation is easy and relaxed. The soft clinking of silverware against fine china fills the space as the waiters quietly move around the table.This is my bachelor party.It is not what most people would expect from a billionaire genius. There are no strippers, no wild parties, no scandalous behavior. Just a few close friends, good food, and the laughter that comes from years of shared history.The guests are a small group. Uncle Maxwell is here, of course, sitting at the head of the table like he belongs there. He has always been the one to keep me grounded, the one to remind me of what really matters. A few of my friends from the tech world are her
ELARA'S POV:The morning after Alistair proposed, I wake up with a smile on my face.I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment over and over in my head. The garden. The roses. The sunset. Alistair on one knee, his gray eyes shining, his voice trembling with emotion. The ring sliding onto my finger. The kiss. The feeling of absolute, overwhelming joy. The soft sunlight pours through my bedroom curtains.I hold up my hand. The diamond catches the morning light, sparkling like a promise. It is beautiful. It is perfect. It is everything I ever wanted.I am engaged. I am going to marry the man I love.I get out of bed. I walk to the window. I look out at the garden, at the roses that are still in bloom, at the fountain that is splashing softly in the distance. The world feels different today. Brighter. More alive. Full of possibility.I think about the wedding. It is going to be beautiful. Perfect. Everything I have ever dreamed of.I have already started planning.
CELESTINE'S POV:The next morning came as I was already in the kitchen, my hands busy with the familiar rhythm of preparing breakfast whenever I didn't go to the office, when I hear footsteps on the stairs. The quiet scrape of the wooden spoon against the mixing bowl is the only other sound in the room.I look up. Alistair is standing in the doorway. His face is pale and his hands are shaking. But his eyes are bright with a joy that I have not seen in years."Mom," he says. "Can we talk?"I set down the spoon. I wipe my hands on my apron. I walk toward him."Of course," I say. "What is it?"He takes a breath. He looks behind him. Elara steps into the doorway, her face flushed, her eyes shining. She is holding up her left hand.I see the ring. A simple diamond, elegant and beautiful, sparkling in the morning light.My heart stops."Alistair proposed," Elara says. Her voice is shaking. "I said yes."I stare at them. My son. My daughter. The two people I love more than anything
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







