LOGINDon't tell Zed about our little chat.The words were still echoing in my head, and my wrist throbbed like a second heartbeat. I looked up into Zed's face, at the dark eyes and the clenched jaw, and I knew with total certainty that whatever I said next would change everything.Lie, and I'd have six hours of fear and a blackmailer's leash around my neck.Tell the truth, and I might lose the only person in this entire school who'd just stood in front of the Dean and put his name beside mine."Rayna." His voice was quieter now. That was worse than the anger. "I heard the name. I heard the part about seven o'clock. Don't make me guess."My throat closed. I forced the words out one at a time, like pulling glass."Michelle was supposed to be here."He didn't move."The letter," I whispered. "The Elmor admission letter. It was hers. It came for her, and I..." My voice broke, and I pressed my fist against my mouth until I could go on. "I took it. I had the chance, and I took it. And I never ga
Lorenzo's POVWe didn't finish painting that day.Jovan sat across from me at a table still wearing a drop cloth, both of us too rattled to pretend the afternoon belonged to the restaurant anymore. I'd called Dante the second I could trust my voice not to shake, and he'd arrived within twenty minutes, Lena right behind him, the four of us clustered around that half-painted room like it was the only safe harbor left in the city."Say it again," Dante said. "Slowly. Because I need to hear it a second time before I let myself believe it.""Rourke says my father didn't die of natural causes. Says he was paid to call it a heart attack. Says he'll tell me who actually did it — if I bury the investigation into him." I rubbed both hands down my face. "Friday. That's his deadline.""That's not a confession," Lena said slowly, working it through out loud the way she always did, sharp and methodical even rattled. "That's leverage. He's trying to trade one truth for your silence on a different on
Lorenzo's POVWe didn't finish painting that day.Jovan sat across from me at a table still wearing a drop cloth, both of us too rattled to pretend the afternoon belonged to the restaurant anymore. I'd called Dante the second I could trust my voice not to shake, and he'd arrived within twenty minutes, Lena right behind him, the four of us clustered around that half-painted room like it was the only safe harbor left in the city."Say it again," Dante said. "Slowly. Because I need to hear it a second time before I let myself believe it.""Rourke says my father didn't die of natural causes. Says he was paid to call it a heart attack. Says he'll tell me who actually did it — if I bury the investigation into him." I rubbed both hands down my face. "Friday. That's his deadline.""That's not a confession," Lena said slowly, working it through out loud the way she always did, sharp and methodical even rattled. "That's leverage. He's trying to trade one truth for your silence on a different on
Lorenzo's POVThe words hung in the air long after he'd said them, ugly and impossible and somehow, underneath all the noise in my chest, not impossible at all."You're lying," I said, but it came out thin, unconvincing even to my own ears."Am I?" Rourke's voice stayed infuriatingly calm. "Your father had a bad heart for years, Lorenzo. Everyone knew it. Easy story to tell, easy cause of death to write down, no questions asked from a family that already had plenty of reasons not to invite a real autopsy." A pause, deliberate, cruel. "I was the one who signed off on it. I was also the one who got a very generous payment a week later from someone who wanted that story to stick."My knees went weak enough that I had to brace a hand against the half-painted wall beside me. "Who paid you.""That's the conversation I'm offering you, if you're smart about the next few days." His tone sharpened, finally, the pleasantness dropping away. "You've got a journalist sniffing around my name. You've
Lorenzo's POVThe next three days felt almost stolen, like time we weren't supposed to get to keep.Jovan's hands stopped shaking by the second morning. I watched it happen in small pieces — the knife steady again, no flinch anymore at knocks on the door, the color coming back into his face a little more each day. We painted the dining room wall at the restaurant ourselves, badly, both of us ending up more covered in deep terracotta than the actual wall, and he laughed so hard at one point he had to sit down on an overturned bucket to catch his breath."This is insane," he said, wiping a streak of paint off his cheek with the back of his wrist. "A week ago someone was threatening to kill both of us and now I'm arguing with you about whether terracotta or rust is the right shade of orange.""Both. We're doing both. One wall each, see which one wins." I crouched beside him, pressed a kiss to his temple. "You're allowed to have this, you know. Normal. Boring. Paint arguments.""I know."
Lorenzo's POVThe drive home was quiet in a way that felt earned instead of heavy. Jovan had his head tipped against the window, eyes half-closed, one hand resting over his stomach like he still hadn't quite let the news settle into something real yet. I kept glancing over at every red light, just to make sure he was still there, still breathing, still mine."Stop staring," he murmured, without opening his eyes. "I can feel you doing it.""Can't help it." I reached over, laced my fingers through his free hand. "Yesterday I thought I was going to lose you a dozen different ways. Today I find out I almost lost two of you without even knowing it."That got his eyes open, soft, tired, something glowing underneath the exhaustion. "We're okay," he said. "All three of us. For now.""For now," I agreed, because after this week, promising forever felt like tempting something I didn't want to tempt. "But I meant what I said on the pier. This ends properly. No more boxes. No more notes. Whatever
JOVAN'S POVThe worst pain I'd ever felt aside from taking a kick to the balls was getting my head smashed into a wall.I woke up with a banging headache and it felt as though my head was a bit swollen at the side as I struggled to get off the bed.A….bed? Since when did hotel lobbied have…..? Wai
Lorenzo's POVI had dealt with hostile men before;Cartel lieutenants who had smuggled weapons under diplomatic plates. Politicians who had embezzled their way into debt and called it oversight. Rivals who had come to negotiating tables with knives hidden under their sleeves and smiles borrowed fro
LORENZOI finally got him. The object of my desire, my sleepless and ire— the love of my life. I never thought I’d see him again, not after he nearly ruined my life of course. Of course, he wouldn’t recognize or remember me. My case was one of the many Jovan Rosfrith dismissed with the wave of a h
JOVAN "My sister is a young, innocent girl with a life ahead of her. But you charmed her and she fell for your looks and deceptive tongue. i will not let you ruin her, not the way you've done to the other ladies you slept with last week. I have come to warn you to stay away from her." "But you ar







