LOGINEsther discovered very quickly that sleep was not going to come to her that night. She lay on her back staring at the ceiling, the sheets tangled around her legs, the darkness of the room pressing in on her like a quiet accusation.Her body was exhausted, but her mind refused to settle. Every time she closed her eyes, something inside her tightened, as though her mind was bracing for something it knew was coming.It was no surprise, really. Anyone who had gone through what she had would have trouble sleeping. At least… that’s what she told herself. But then another thought crept in, unwelcome and sharp.Maybe not anyone.Her mind drifted to Edwina.Edwina wouldn’t be lying here like this, she thought bitterly. Edwina had always been stronger—bolder, fiercer. The kind of woman who would fight like hell before letting anyone trap her in fear.Esther swallowed. Edwina would have fought back. Her chest tightened. She wouldn’t have frozen like I did.The thought burned.Throwing the cover
EdwinaSeated beside me was Max — my Max. The man I loved. The Crown Prince of Mercia. Even tied up, even angry, he carried himself like royalty. Standing behind a pale, trembling Miranda was another version of him — stone-faced, armed, buzz cut, colder. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn they were the same man split into two bodies. The only real difference was their eyes. My Max had gray eyes — stormy, thoughtful, soft when he looked at me. His brother’s eyes were brown. Deep brown. The color of dark chocolate, warm but unreadable. Max had shown me photos of his family once, laughing as he flipped through them. I’d remember thinking then how absurd it was that one family could hoard that much beauty, that much presence, that much power in their genes alone.And now here they were — flesh and blood and dangerous.“Untie them,” Julian ordered.The ropes fell away from my wrists so suddenly it almost felt unreal. Before I could even process the sting of returning circulatio
Edwina “Correct,” Desmond said calmly, like he was reciting facts from a ledger. “But I didn’t act alone.”My chest tightened.“Steven was the one who came up with the idea to rob Edwina’s family,” he continued. “The plan was to recover the loan given to Cyril. That money was supposed to go to Matthias, but because of Cyril’s situation, Matthias was skipped. He didn’t take that well.”The words hit me one after the other, heavy and suffocating. I turned slowly to Steven, disbelief burning behind my eyes. “How could you do that to me?” My voice cracked despite my effort to stay steady. “So all this time, you were pretending to be my friend?” My throat closed. “Because of you, my father almost died.”For a moment, I wanted him to deny it. To lie. To give me something to cling to.“My father was in danger too,” Steven snapped. “The man he borrowed money from threatened to kill him. I couldn’t let that happen—not when there was something I could do.”The room spun.“So you decided I’d m
EdwinaI watched Miranda lift her chin, arrogance dripping from every inch of her posture. “You don’t scare me, you know,” she said to Max, smug and self-satisfied. “I’m just as royal as you are. My father is just as powerful as yours.”I almost rolled my eyes. Max stared at her for a heartbeat—blank, unreadable. For a split second, I wondered if he was calculating how many ways he could dismantle her with words alone. Then he threw his head back and laughed.Not a polite laugh.Not a restrained one.A full, unapologetic belly laugh.The sound echoed through the room, sharp and humiliating, and I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. Miranda’s face flushed red so fast it was almost impressive. If this were a cartoon, steam would’ve been shooting from her ears.“What’s so funny?” she snapped, her voice cutting.“You,” Max said easily, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “Who else?”I felt his anger beneath the humor—controlled, simmering. Max wasn’t amused. He was offended. Deepl
Maximillian I pulled up in front of the storey building and killed the engine, my hands tightening around the steering wheel until my knuckles went white. I forced myself to breathe, to think, to stay rational—because every ugly instinct in me wanted to storm in there and put bullets in every bastard involved. I didn’t even have a gun. Worse, I didn’t know who they were yet, and charging in blind was the fastest way to get someone innocent hurt. Esther. Edwina. Maybe both. I wasn’t here to play the hero. I was here to finish this cleanly."Don’t forget… I’ll handle it." I reminded Edwina, keeping my voice firm, unyielding. This wasn’t a suggestion. This was a line I wasn’t letting her cross.“Got it, boss,” she replied, snapping a mock salute like this was just another routine job.If only.“Let’s go.” I opened the door and stepped out, watching her mirror the movement. We shut the doors at the same time. I locked the car and lifted my gaze back to the building. At least six bedroo
Edwina Two whole days had crawled by since Esther’s kidnapping—two days of restless pacing, sleepless nights, and pretending I wasn’t falling apart inside. Every hour felt like a punishment, every minute a reminder of how powerless I was. When Max finally suggested going for a drive, I agreed without hesitation. I needed movement, distraction… anything.He drove in silence at first, the kind that felt heavy with unsaid things. His car smelled faintly of leather and cedarwood, and for a fleeting second, I focused on that instead of the dread gnawing at me. I’d asked—no, pestered—him to tell me how much the car cost, partly to annoy him, partly because normal questions felt like lifelines. He eventually told me after much eye-rolling. It almost made me smile.Almost.When we stepped out of the restaurant, reality snapped right back. A note was stuck to his windscreen, flapping slightly in the evening breeze like a taunt. My stomach dropped before I even read it.The instructions were
MaximillianHaving survived numerous near-death experiences, I couldn't help but think I must have nine lives. Each time, I emerged from the brink of death, only to wake up in a hospital bed, battered and bruised. As I contemplated this seemingly recurring pattern, I wondered if this constant brush w
Edwina A week later For nearly a week, Justice remained in a deep slumber, causing me constant worry about the possibility that he might never awaken, despite the doctor's assurances. Taking turns with my sisters to care for him, the challenge arose from our rural location in securing transportation
EdwinaDespite my attempts to find sleep by counting sheep, reciting the twenty times table, and singing, restlessness consumed me. Midnight had arrived, accompanied by the distant sounds of crickets and an owl's hoot. While I usually enjoyed the tranquility, recent concerns about home invasions made
EdwinaMy father held a belief in showing kindness to everyone, even in a community where most did not warrant such generosity. Unfortunately, this ideal clashed with reality when it came to Justice, a man we had extended our help to during a time of need. We had helped nurse him back to health, gone







