LOGINCHLOE'S POV People think betrayal is loud. They imagine screaming matches, shattered glass, hands around throats. They imagine villains who laugh while the knife goes in. The truth is quieter. Betrayal sounds like footsteps down a hallway at night. Like the soft click of a door you weren’t meant to open. Like a father saying your name in a tone that makes you feel twelve years old again, small, obedient, cornered. After everything came apart, after Genesis was buried and sworn never to be spoken of again, we tried to pretend we were normal. That was the lie that finally broke us. Selena stayed. She should have left. Any sane girl would have packed her bags, gone back to whatever version of safety she still had left. But Selena didn’t want safety. She wanted him. And Damian, my father, the man who raised me to understand power before kindness, didn’t stop her. He encouraged it. Not openly. Never crudely. But in the way he lingered too long in rooms she was in. In the way his voice sof
CHLOE'S POV I’ve been rewriting this story in my head since I was nine years old. That’s when Selena Rivera walked into my life with her crooked smile, chipped pink backpack, and eyes that looked like they were always searching for something. She was new. Shy in the way kids are when they’ve already learned how to disappear. The teacher sat her beside me because I was loud, confident, and “good with people.” They thought I’d be a buffer. Instead, she became my shadow. Primary school was simple back then. Lunch trades. Secret notes. Pinky promises that felt like blood oaths. Selena didn’t talk much at first, but she listened. She watched everything. Especially my family. My father used to pick me up early some days, black car, tinted windows, presence that made other parents straighten their backs without knowing why. Damian Voss didn’t smile at children. He nodded. He observed. He terrified adults without raising his voice. Selena noticed. She always noticed. The first time she met h
The city outside was quiet, a deceptive calm that made the storm inside the penthouse feel even more dangerous. Rain pattered against the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting patterns of shadow and light across the polished marble, but all I could focus on was Damian, him, his heat, and the undeniable tension that bound us together in ways that defied reason. I perched on the edge of the chaise lounge, legs crossed tightly, heart hammering in my chest as Damian moved through the room like a predator circling his prey. Every motion, every step, every glance, was deliberate, calculated, and charged with a raw, unrelenting possession that made my blood run hot. My body had been aching for him since the moment I’d woken up, and no matter how much I tried to convince myself to stay calm, the desire simmering between us was impossible to ignore. “You’ve been staring at me all morning,” Damian said, voice low and rough, the kind that made my knees weak and my stomach coil in anticipation. He st
The rain hammered against the penthouse windows, drumming out a chaotic rhythm that mirrored the storm inside me. My body was still tingling from Damian’s relentless claim of me this morning, but the ache didn’t fade, it only sharpened, demanding more. Every nerve ending screamed for his touch, and yet, the tension from Chloe’s jealousy and Dante’s looming presence made my pulse race with anticipation and fear. Damian was leaning against the counter, shirt half undone, sleeves rolled up, dark hair damp from the rain that clung to his skin. His eyes, black as midnight, scanned me with that predatory hunger I’d never escape. My stomach fluttered with need, but a knot of anxiety twisted inside me at the thought of Chloe plotting and Dante watching from the shadows. “You’ve been staring at me all morning,” Damian growled, his voice low and dangerous as he closed the distance between us. I shivered, pressing against him instinctively. “Thinking about last night?” “I can’t stop,” I whispere
The morning light slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows, brushing across the penthouse in streaks of gold, but nothing could soften the tension thick in the air. I sat on the edge of the chaise lounge, legs crossed, heart hammering as Damian moved around the kitchen, methodical, calm, yet every motion radiating a raw, feral ownership that made me ache all over. He glanced at me over his shoulder, dark eyes sweeping my body as if marking every inch, every curve, every shiver that betrayed my need for him. “You’re trembling,” he said softly, almost teasingly, though the depth of possessiveness in his tone made my stomach knot tighter. “Don’t fight it. It’s mine. You’re mine.” “I’m… not fighting,” I admitted, voice breathless. “I… I need you.” Damian’s lips curved into that sharp, dangerous smirk I could never resist. He crossed the room in two long strides, each one purposeful, predatory, and pressed me against the counter, hands gripping my hips so tightly I felt my knees weaken
The penthouse was silent, save for the low hum of the city far below. I perched on the edge of the marble counter, hips brushing against the smooth surface, waiting for Damian to make his move. My body was still humming with the aftershocks of last night, but the ache inside me, the craving, was far from sated. He hadn’t even touched me yet today, and already the need to feel him pressing against me, claiming me, made my skin tingle. Damian appeared from the lounge, shirt still unbuttoned, dark eyes locking onto mine with that familiar predatory smolder. Every glance from him made my pulse spike, every slow, deliberate step toward me was a promise I couldn’t resist. “You’ve been staring at me all morning,” he said, voice low, dangerous, as he reached me. His fingers brushed my hip, sending a shiver straight through me. “Thinking about last night?” I swallowed hard, heat rising. “Always,” I whispered, voice trembling. “I… I can’t stop thinking about you.” He smirked, dark and knowing,
The city was quiet, or at least it seemed quiet from the rooftop where we crouched, catching our breath. Smoke drifted through the air, curling around the skeletal remains of buildings, mixing with the scent of fire and ash. From up here, it almost looked peaceful,but I knew better. Chaos had only
The city looked like it had been swallowed by fire. From the helicopter, I could see smoke curling into the night sky, flames licking the edges of streets, and panicked figures running through the chaos. My stomach twisted, not just from the turbulence, or from carrying my twins, but from the knowl
The helicopter’s rotor blades beat against the night air, a relentless rhythm that matched the hammering of my heart. My stomach tightened with every jolt, every turn, not just from carrying the twins, but from the weight of what we’d just survived. The pit. The alphas. The blood. And above all, th
I barely had time to breathe before the chaos swallowed us. Smoke filled the corridors as we sprinted down the hallways of the burning Genesis compound, alarms screaming and red emergency lights flickering over shattered glass and twisted metal. My stomach churned, my twins kicking hard as if they







