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~ Sylara's POV ~
"The best way to forget a man is to get tangled up with another one, girl. So relax, and let’s party all night like it’s our last," my best friend Ashley declared as she poured me another glass of tequila, her eyes sparkling with mischief.I sighed and took the glass. "Seriously, Ashley, do you think it was a good idea coming all the way to Cabo from Brooklyn?"
"We traveled across states to spend spring break here. Why think about it now?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at me like I had just spoken nonsense.
"Well…" I hesitated, staring at the golden liquid in my glass. "I just feel like I made a rash decision. Maybe I should’ve stayed home to study. I suck at statistics."
Ashley slammed her hand on the table, making me jump. "Absolutely not, Lara! Your heart was wrecked by your so-called ex. What you need isn’t a textbook, it’s tequila, music, and a dance floor."
I exhaled deeply, the weight of her words stirring memories I wished I could bury. Just three days ago, Alfred, my boyfriend of four years, had ended things with me.
His reason was that I didn't moan whenever he touched me. He claimed that I was always quiet and stiff whenever he had sex with me. It wasn't really a lie; it was true.
Whenever Alfred and I had sex, I didn’t feel anything. No fire, no rush, no shiver of desire. Just… emptiness. I loved him with all my heart, but my body never seemed to respond to him.
I had met Alfred in my first year at Crestwood College. He was young, charming, and only a year older than me. For the first couple of years, everything was perfect. Everyone knew us as the inseparable couple. My parents adored him. His parents adored me, and they wanted us to get married after college. We were supposed to be that forever kind of love.
But things began to change when I gave him my virginity. At first, he was patient. Then came the complaints about how I wasn’t romantic, how my body didn’t "get wet" for him. He twisted the blame on me, saying there was something wrong with me as a woman.
I had tried to get wet for him. Sometimes I even had to fake a moan just so he could believe his touch affected me... But I wasn’t much of a good liar, so he caught on to my lie.
After a while, he stopped complaining and hardly even had time for me. He always claimed he was busy with his studies, and whenever I visited his condo, he'd act like I didn’t exist and was always on the phone with someone.
Even when I tried to make a move on him, he would stop me from touching him, claiming that it was pointless making love to me.
I felt like it was all my fault for not being able to get wet for my man, which was why I took pills that enhance wetness on the night I went to his condo.
Sadly, Alfred broke up with me that very night. He told me straight to my face that I wasn’t a woman and that he had found another girl who would scream his name when he thrust her.
Those words cut deeper than any blade.
I cried and tried to get back together with him, but Alfred shut me out. I didn’t even know how to tell my parents about the breakup, which was why I packed up my bags and came here to Cabo when Ashley suggested it.
Ashley’s voice broke through my thoughts. "You came here to forget Alfred. Yes, he was your first love. Yes, you spent years with him. But it’s over now, Lara. You need to pick up the broken pieces of yourself and start over."
I nodded my head, agreeing with her words. I might love Alfred, but I wasn’t the kind of girl who fooled herself for a guy.
If Alfred wanted to break up with me, then so be it. One of the main reasons why I had agreed to come to Cabo with Ashley was to prove to Alfred that there was someone out there who could make me feel like fire, make me moan, and make me beg to be fucked.
All I needed to prove that was to have a one-night stand with any random guy. After tonight, it’ll be over. I won’t ever see him again because I’d be back in Brooklyn for my final year.
"Let's do this, Ashley. Let's party, and I will find any guy to have a one-night stand with and get back at Alfred," I said.
"That's the spirit, girl. Go for it!" she cheered for me. And as I emptied the glass of tequila, she gave out a loud scream, calling my name and pouring more drinks for me.
Ashley and I went to the dance floor, dancing like it was our last night, just like she had said. The lights blurred into streaks of neon as I let go of everything—Alfred, the pain and the humiliation. My hair whipped around me, and my hips moved to the pounding bass.
As I danced to the beat of the loud music, I kept gulping down bottle after bottle of alcohol until the world tilted and spun.
"Hey, you!" I slurred at a guy at the counter, staggering toward him. "Do you wanna have sex with me? Just one night. I’m available."
The girl beside him glared at me. "Babe, do you know her?"
"No, I don't. She's probably drunk and wants to cause trouble," the guy replied.
"It’ll be quick," I giggled, swaying on my heels. "I just need to prove to my ex that I can get wet for a man."
The girl shot up from her stool, her face twisted in rage. "Stay away from my man before I call security!"
I tried to persuade him once more, but Ashley swooped in before I could embarrass myself further.
She yanked me away, scolding, "He has a girlfriend! Do you want to get beaten up? If you want a fling, find someone who’s single."
"But how do I find a guy who will be willing to sleep with me? Or should I go for someone much older than me?" I grinned stupidly at my own words, stumbling against her.
"You're drunk... let's go back to the hotel," she suggested.
After we arrived in Cabo, we had lodged in a hotel room for the whole week.
"Nooo," I whined, laughing. "We shouldn't go back yet. Let's party some more. You never can tell, someone will be interested in having sex with me."
"Let's get you back to the hotel first, and we'll talk about that," Ashley said, holding me so I wouldn’t fall.
She flagged down a cab, and we both went back to the hotel we had been staying in here in Cabo. All through the ride back to the hotel, I kept screaming from the car window, and Ashley, being the supportive best friend, joined me.
"Go inside," she said, her phone in hand when we arrived back at the hotel. "I need to make a quick call."
"Okayyy," I drawled with a sloppy salute.
"Will you be able to find your way to our hotel room alone?"
"Sure I can. I might be drunk, but I know where I’m heading," I smiled at her, my eyes a little bit blurry.
"If you say so. I'll join you in a jiffy," she said.
I waved at her with a grin and began heading toward our hotel room. I giggled drunkenly when I arrived at the doorstep.
I tried to slip the key card into the slot, only to discover it was open. "Did we leave it open? How careless," I giggled again, creaked the door open, and stepped in.
The smell of lavender filled my nostrils immediately after I entered the room, which was strange because neither Ashley nor I smelled like that.
Too drunk to think straight, I ignored the warning bells in my head. I stumbled toward the bed and collapsed with a grin.
Just as sleep began to claim me, the door creaked open again.
"Ash?" I mumbled, eyes half-shut.
A deep, unfamiliar voice cut through the haze. "Who are you?"
My eyes flew open, and in that moment, the voice turned on the light. He was tall, commanding, and devastatingly handsome, with the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen.
His gaze locked on me, sharp and dangerous, and for a second, the alcohol in my veins evaporated.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
Rather than answering his question, I let out a loud scream that was enough to rip the hotel roof in two.
~ Sylara POV ~ "Nick... that is seriously enough!" I complained for the umpteenth time as he casually pointed to yet another display case, completely ignoring my protests. He didn't just pick out a few clothes, he was buying out entire collections. And these luxury bags and shoes weren't just ordinary designer items—they were high-fashion pieces worth thousands upon thousands of dollars. "Didn't I tell you we were going out so I could treat you like my queen?" he asked, his deep voice smooth, entirely unbothered by the astronomical price tags. I let out a long, exhausted sigh, running my hand through my hair. "I know you said that, but this is way too much! I don't even need half of these!" I gestured wildly toward the mountain of boxes, heels, dresses, and leather bags currently being held by a small army of bow-tied store staffs. The moment we had walked into the exclusive boulevard mall, Nick had quietly signaled the security team to clear out the entire floor. He had
~ Sylara's POV ~ I stood at the edge of the shore, letting the cool beach breeze whip my hair and dress around my legs as I watched the waves crash onto the sand. The hotel possessed its own secluded, velvet-fenced beach, and I had wandered down here because my suite felt suffocating. I had never stayed in a high-end luxury suite in my entire life, and the vast, quiet space felt unnervingly huge. Nick was doing too much. I was terrified of getting used to him treating me like this. Once upon a time, he was cold, distant, and completely unpredictable—pushing me away one second and pulling me back the next. I knew I had literally begged him to go back to being that cold, aloof professor, but the man completely refused to listen. And I didn't want to get addicted to this soft, pampering side he was suddenly showing me. "Maman!" A burst of bright, ringing laughter snapped me out of my thoughts. My eyes drifted down the shoreline. A young French girl, probably around my age,
~ Nicholas's POV ~ I lied to her. It wasn't as if I'd planned to casually drop the fact that I was the Don of the most ruthless Bratva clan in Russia, but the sheer panic in her eyes when she brought up the word mafia gave me every reason to bury the truth. She told me she would run away if I belonged to that world. What she failed to realize was that when the truth finally surfaced, I wasn't going to give her the option to leave. I was completely consumed by her. I was never letting her go. Not her fear, not her resistance, not even death itself would separate her from me. Once I was finished dealing with Malachi, I would lay out the truth. And if she refused to accept it... I wouldn't hesitate to toss her into my private jet and drag her straight back to Moscow with me. As for her parents, I gave zero fucks about them. Those animals were the reason she had arrived at my gates sob-wracked and broken, and that was precisely why she'd refused to give me their names. She was t
~ Sylara's POV ~ Our flight to Paris took off at exactly ten o'clock the following morning. Deep down, I knew I should have declined. Every logical bone in my body was screaming at me to maintain a strict boundary between us, but the temptation was too strong. Besides, it wasn't like I was going to run into any of my university classmates in Paris. I didn't know a single soul in Paris, which made it the ultimate safe haven. More than that, after the agonizing way my parents had treated me last night, I needed to put as many miles between us as humanly possible. I still couldn't wrap my head around their betrayal. The slaps weren't even what truly broke me. I could have swallowed the physical pain if that was all they had done. The fact that they took Alfred's side after knowing the reason why he broke up with me—and why he wanted me back, made my heart bleed. Despite how they had been treating me ever since I made a vow not to get back together with Alfred, I still loved t
~ Nicholas's POV ~ I had spent almost the entire week in Russia dealing with ash, blood, and betrayal. The call had come in while I was still in Brooklyn—one of my captains frantically explaining that a suspected arson attack had ripped through one of our primary warehouses. Multiple men of mine were severely burned, some fighting for their lives. I had flown back to Moscow immediately with Jude and Thalia at my flanks to hunt down the rat. The investigation didn't take long. Every trail of gasoline and melted steel pointed directly to Malachi. The bastard was playing games with me again, trying to test my reach from across the Atlantic. I spent four agonizing days dragging his foot soldiers out of their holes, painting the Russian snow red to get answers. But his men were stubbornly loyal. None of them would give up his exact hiding spot in Brooklyn. They were six feet under the ground now because I made sure to kill each and everyone. I had returned to Brooklyn because,
~ Sylara's POV ~ "Is it true, you have a boyfriend who's a killer?!" my mom yelled at me. My eyes instantly flared to Alfred, shooting him a deadly glare. How dare he bring up what I said to him just to my parents? But of course he did. I should have remembered: Alfred never knew how to keep his pathetic mouth shut. "Answer me, Lara! Do you have a boyfriend who's a killer?!" my mom roared, her face contorting with a mix of disgust and fury. "No, I don't!" My voice shook, but I forced it to stay steady. "And I don't have a boyfriend to begin with!" Alfred scoffed, leaning back with a sickeningly smug look. "Come on, Lara. Don't deny what you said to me. Not in front of your parents." Underneath the table, my nails dug so hard into my palms that I was sure they would bleed. I clenched my fists, staring at him as if I could set him on fire with my mind. "What did she say to you, Alfred?" my dad demanded. "She told me she has a boyfriend now," Alfred said, his tone dripp







