Se connecterShare
Chapter Eight: Tristain
Date de publication:
2026-03-10 23:23:40
Latest chapter
Burned Lines Chapter Eight: Tristain
My GPS chimed softly as I rolled to a stop, the Ducati purring beneath me like it knew exactly what kind of mood I was in. I slid into a handicapped spot directly in front of the mall.I wouldn’t be here long.I cut the ignition and flipped the plate up before swinging off the bike and striding toward the entrance. Helmet stayed on. No face, no name—just intent. I didn’t need mall security remembering me if I had to come back later.Whether to rearrange someone’s face…or buy Ally something nice.The thought irritated me more than it should’ve.I didn’t understand why I was this infuriated. Ally wasn’t mine. She wasn’t property. I had no claim, no right to dictate who talked to her or who asked her out. And yet—when that name had flashed across my alert, something ugly and possessive had sparked deep in my chest.Maybe that was why I’d installed the restrictions.Control.The realization sat heavy, unsettling. Ever since that night, something inside me had cracked open, reshaped itsel
Burned Lines Chapter Six: Tristain
I worked the kitchen with mechanical ease, a dish towel slung loosely over my shoulder as I flipped the chicken in the pan, the oil snapping beneath the spatula. With my other hand, I stirred the pot of spaghetti, steam curling upward in slow, lazy spirals. The room smelled like garlic and heat—too warm, too domestic.Soft footsteps sounded behind me.“Look who finally crawled out of her fantasy world,” I said, not bothering to turn, a faint smirk edging into my voice.“Shut the hell up,” Ally snapped.I glanced over my shoulder. Her red hair was a mess of careless waves, her cheeks flushed like she’d been wound just a little too tight, and her emerald eyes sparked with irritation. She crossed the room and dropped into a chair, thumbs already flying over her phone screen.“Screenager,” I muttered, shaking my head as I turned back to the stove.I felt her glare like a physical thing pressing between my shoulder blades.“The fuck did you just say?” she demanded.I bit the inside of my c
Burned Lines Chapter Five: Ally
I sauntered down the stairs the next morning—and immediately wished I hadn’t.Tristain stood in the dining room, back half-turned, methodically adjusting the cuffs of a black dress shirt like he belonged in some tailored fantasy instead of my personal nightmare. My stomach did an annoying, traitorous little flip.A sliver of a long tattoo peeked out from beneath his rolled sleeves, immediately making me curious as to what it was.He looked exactly like how I imagined Alex Volkov in—No.Absolutely not.Get your shit together, Ally.I scowled at myself for even letting the comparison surface. He wasn’t fictional. He wasn’t charming. He was infuriating. Period.As if sensing my stare, he glanced over his shoulder. Dark hair fell lazily across those icy eyes, and—God help me—the faintest smirk tugged at his mouth.Oh. My. God.Snap out of it, Allison Trainer, I ordered myself, fighting the urge to physically shake the thoughts loose.“Good morning to you, too, Frosty,” he said, his voice
Burned Lines Chapter Four: Tristain
“TRISTAIN!”I nearly dropped my controller, the shout ricocheting off the walls. Surprise flickered for half a second before it flipped into smug satisfaction. Ah… so that’s what had her worked up. Her most prized possession, apparently, was missing.I heard her before I saw her—the furious stomp of her feet down the stairs, heavy breaths puffing out between gritted teeth, and a low, almost imperceptible growl that made me grin from ear to ear.“Yes, Princess?” I drawled, feigning innocence, my voice just dripping with mock courtesy.She appeared in the doorway, and I nearly lost it. Hair wild and tangled, cheeks flushed pink, one sock mysteriously gone—she looked like chaos personified. But, of course, she had to be distracting; her tank top had ridden up more than modesty would allow, revealing a sliver of skin that made me choke back a groan. I forced myself to keep a poker face.“Where. Is. My. Charger?” she spat, each word punctuated with fury.I tilted my head innocently. “Your
Burned Lines Chapter Three: Ally
That morning arrived like an enemy—too soon, too loud, and completely against my will. I wasn’t ready. I don’t think anyone could ever be ready for being shipped off to live with their nemesis, but my parents seemed determined to test the limits of human suffering.They claimed staying at the Darson estate would provide a “fresh environment” and “new opportunities.”Sure. If by “opportunities” they meant a front-row seat to my own personal hell.I sat rigidly in the back seat of the Volvo, clutching my overnight bag like it was a life raft and I was five minutes from drowning. Every mile we drove toward the Darson mansion felt like a countdown—tick, tick, tick—to my doom.I kept scrolling through my phone, pretending like if I focused hard enough on Instagram reels, I could manifest myself into a different universe. One where my parents weren’t handing me over to the devil with dimples.“Honey, it won’t be so bad,” my mom said gently, catching my gaze in the rearview mirror. Her hopef
Burned Lines Chapter Two: Ally
By the time six rolled around, I was just starting to get ready. Not that I was going to put in any more effort for Tristain Darson than absolutely necessary. And that included starting dinner prep three hours early.“Ally, Tristain’s here!” my mom called from downstairs.“Almost done, Mom!” I replied. Lie. He could wait ten minutes.I didn’t bother with makeup. I grabbed one of my safest “casual-but-not-too-casual” outifts—a pair of baggy, ripped jeans and a long-sleeve compressed, one-shoulder black shirt—and slipped into my basic white Nikes. Enough effort to survive the evening. No more.My hair? Pulled into a lazy, half-hearted style. Not worth it.I was going to dinner against my will. With him. And that fact alone made my blood boil more than it reasonably should. Life went on, though. I snatched my black mini-purse and trudged down the stairs, timing each step to emphasize how little I cared. Ten minutes late? Perfect.Of course, there he was. Bottom of the staircase. Charmin
Vous vous intéresseriez aussi à
The Trap Of Ace
Eva Zahan1.0M VuesEx-Husband's Regret
Evelyn M.M4.7M VuesSpoiled by Mr. Russell
Luminous Night1.0M VuesHIRED AS A BILLIONAIRE'S WIFE
Rossy687.8K VuesObsessed With My Mother’s Husband ( The Forbidden Romance )
Mira Roberts211 VuesOwned By My Best Friend's Father
Blessing. B557 VuesThe Mercer Brothers
Jade Smith68 VuesThe Enemy Vow
Princess Adenusi91 Vues
