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Networking Event
Last Updated:
2025-04-10 18:36:33
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Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Meet
Logan Reynolds She drove off the second she saw me. Didn’t even hesitate. Just got in her car and peeled out like I was something she needed to escape from.It’s been like that for days now. Viola's been avoiding me so hard, I’m starting to hate myself for even trying. No eye contact. No small talk. And the thing that stings the most? I deserve it. I held my tongue. I played it safe when I should’ve been honest. I watched her unravel and didn’t step in. I just let it happen.I've been pouring everything into work, burying myself in reports, calls, late nights at the office like productivity can drown out the ache. It doesn’t help. None of it does.She’s in my head. All the time. And when she’s not, the silence she leaves behind is louder than any noise.I pull into my driveway, grab my coat off the passenger seat and slam the door shut. The porch light’s off. Huh. That’s odd. Bonnie’s usually here, raiding my fridge and yelling at me about my lack of social life.I punch
Last Updated : 2025-04-10Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Cute Drunk
Logan Reynolds“Hey, Logan,” she says, smiling at me like I didn’t ruin everything.It’s... weird. Sweet, but weird. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are glassy.“You alright?” I step closer, placing a steady hand on her bare shoulder. Her skin is warm and so soft.She wobbles slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”“You’re drunk.”“I’m no. You are.”I can’t help it, I laugh. “Still cute when you’re drunk.”A memory hits me out of nowhere. Viola drunk, barefoot on my bed, singing five different love songs off-key for hours. Just standing on the mattress, doing little twirls and holding an invisible mic. The next morning she couldn’t talk. Said her throat felt like sandpaper.My lips twitch at the memory.She starts to walk away and I follow her, because what the hell else am I supposed to do?“Vi, do you even know where you’re going?”“Obviously not,” she says with a giggle, nearly walking into a plant.We end up on a balcony. The night is quiet here, away from the hum of clinking glasse
Last Updated : 2025-04-10Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Sober
Logan Reynolds I almost laugh at the absurdity of it. “No, silly,” I say. “You.”She looks at me. “Oh wow. The great Logan Reynolds is in love with me.”She says it like it’s a joke. Like the idea of me loving her is some hilarious concept. And I can only smile, not because it’s funny—but because she wouldn’t believe me sober. She walks back to the seat, humming some random tune, with her steps light and a little wobbly. I follow her, taking a seat beside her again. “No, for real,” I say quietly. “I love you.”“Yes, yes,” she replies with a flutter of her hand like she’s swatting away my confession. I smile again, but it’s a sad one. Because I know she wouldn’t remember. Or worse, she’d remember and convince herself she misheard. That I didn’t mean it.The wind picks up, carrying the smell of rain. It might rain tonight because it’s starting to get chilly. I shrug off my coat and drape it around her shoulders.“I’m fine,” she says, pulling it tighter anyway.“It’s chilly,” I
Last Updated : 2025-04-10Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Savior
Viola McCoy My head is pounding. I can’t think straight as I glance between Logan and the man. I immediately rush to the bathroom and lock the door behind me. There’s a raging ache inside my skull. My head throbs relentlessly, and the spinning inside my mind is too much to handle. I feel like I’m drowning in the noise of my own thoughts. I lean over the sink, splashing cold water on my face, hoping it’ll snap me out of the haze. I stare at my reflection, wiping my face with the towel. But the moment my eyes close, I see it—“would you want to have your hands all over me?” My heart stops in my chest. I snap my eyes open, forcing myself to breathe. What the hell was that? Who did I say that to? Why can’t I remember? I hold my head in my hands, but the pain only intensifies. Minutes pass. Hours? I don’t know. Time feels irrelevant right now, just like my thoughts. I sit down on the bathroom floor, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to make sense of everything, but nothing seems to
Last Updated : 2025-04-10Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Letting go
Viola McCoy Logan starts the car, the sound of the rain intensifying as it pelts the roof. I can’t look at him. My heart is still racing, and I’m not sure if I can handle whatever it is I’m feeling right now. Why is he still here? Why did he stay when everyone else left? “You stayed behind?” My voice is shaky, and I hate it. I hate that I can’t even ask without sounding like I don’t understand why. Logan glances at me. “I saw when Julian’s car drove off, I didn’t see you next to him. Plus, you ran down the hallway and never came out, so I thought you passed out somewhere.” He was looking for me? My heart flips in my chest. I bite my lip to keep it together, but my hands still tremble in my lap. “Do you still feel cold?” he asks after a moment, glancing over at me. I shake my head, trying to act like I’m fine, but I’m not. I’m anything but fine. The rain is still hammering the car. Logan passes his coat to me, and I take it, wrapping it around my shoulders. But even the wa
Last Updated : 2025-04-10Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine After
Viola McCoy The ceiling hasn’t changed since the last time I looked at it. I let my eyes blur until it’s all white and meaningless again. The sun has long since set behind the thick curtains I never pulled open. I know I’m late for work. I know people are probably wondering where I am. But I just... can’t move.My body feels like it’s been dragged underwater and left there—heavy, slow, feverish. The rain that beat against me last night must’ve won. But worse than the cold lodged in my bones is the guilt in my chest. Logan kissed me. No. I kissed him too. I didn’t pull away. I didn’t stop him. I let it happen. And worse, I felt something.I roll over too fast and nearly fall off the bed. My forehead burns as I press it to the edge of my pillow. I feel like I’m being slowly cooked from the inside out, but the pit in my stomach is colder than anything. I kissed Logan. I let myself want him.There’s a light knock on the door. Julian?I lift my head slowly. He left me at the part
Last Updated : 2025-04-11Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine An answer
Logan Reynolds I’m still at my desk, but my head isn’t in this office anymore.The taste of her lips, it’s still there. Like the ghost of something sweet I wasn’t supposed to have but took anyway. It lingers. Just like the look in her eyes right before it happened. The hesitation, the silent chaos flickering behind her lashes. She kissed me back. That much I know. She wanted it in that moment. I felt it in the way her hands clung to me like she needed someone to steady her.Now? Now, it’s like it never happened.I drag a hand down my face, staring blankly at my phone, screen still lit up from the last message I sent Viola. Me: “You’re avoiding my texts? I’m coming over to see you.”I didn’t mean it. Not really. I just wanted her to respond. To say something. Anything. The silence is driving me up the damn wall. I need clarity. Not this aching uncertainty that’s been riding my shoulders since the second I left her on that porch last night. Her hair was dripping, her lips swoll
Last Updated : 2025-04-13Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Realize
Viola McCoy An hour has passed. He said he was coming.I guess he isn’t and I’m relieved.Well… sort of. Maybe.I slide out of bed. My head is still heavy, like there’s a slow-burning fire behind my eyes. My skin feels clammy under my robe, the fever hasn’t quite broken. I shuffle toward the door and down the stairs, clutching the handrail. The house is oddly quiet and yet something smells… sweet. Pancakes.Julian’s pancakes.The scent hits me before I even make it to the kitchen. My stomach clenches. Hunger, sure. But mostly guilt. He’s trying. He’s being sweet, and somehow that’s making it worse.I pause just outside the kitchen and inhale sharply, steadying myself. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to look at him and lie. But I also don’t want to tell him the truth. Not when I’m still trying to untangle it myself.I step inside.He’s at the stove, a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he flips a pancake with too much force. It slaps the pan. He’s wearing his "domestic" fac
Last Updated : 2025-04-15
Latest chapter
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Cared For
Logan Reynolds Viola breaks down in the hallway.It happens so fast, it’s like watching someone snap from the inside out—quiet, brittle, then crumbling all at once. Her knees hit the carpet like she doesn’t feel the pain, and her hands tremble as they cover her face. I watch her whole body heave, like the sobs are ripping their way out from somewhere deep inside her, places I’ve only ever guessed at.I want to kill him.My fists are still tight, still itching for his throat. I’ve never wanted to end someone the way I want to end Julian right now. But I can’t think like that. Not with her here. Not with her shaking like she’s barely holding on.I kneel beside her. “Vi…” My voice is low.She doesn’t look at me, doesn’t stop crying.I touch her shoulder gently. “Do you want to go to the hospital?”She shakes her head immediately. “No.”Her voice is hoarse. Fragile. I hear the no, but I still hesitate. My gut says she should be looked at—physically, emotionally—but her eyes dart up
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Survivor
Viola McCoy When I wake up, I feel like I’ve been hit by a train.My body aches in places I didn’t know could hurt. My mouth is dry, my head is heavy, and every bone feels like it’s bruised with exhaustion. The room is pitch dark, but I can see the outline of the heavy curtains drawn shut. There’s a bitter, metallic taste on my tongue, and when I shift to sit up, my back protests in sharp pulses of pain.I glance at the clock.2:03 a.m. Three hours of sleep. That’s all. It feels like I’ve lived an entire lifetime since sunset. My skin feels clammy. I press a hand to my chest, trying to steady the thudding panic that’s settled.And then—The door creaks open.I freeze.The light flips on, flooding the room in a sudden wash of yellow. My eyes squint against it, and I blink up at the silhouette standing in the doorway.Julian.His jaw is tight. Eyes narrowed. His fists clenched at his sides like he walked here straight out of a fight—and maybe, in his head, he did.“What the f
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Free
Viola McCoy I slam the door behind me and lock it.My back hits the wood, and I slide to the floor like I’ve been shot in the chest. The sob that escapes me is raw and sudden, like it’s been sitting in my throat for years just waiting for a chance to scream its way out.The room is dim—one of the guest suites with golden wallpaper. The bed’s still made. The lights are off except for the lamp in the corner. It smells like polished furniture and roses. I pull my knees to my chest.And then I cry.I cry like my body’s collapsing inward. Like every ounce of strength I’ve faked for years is melting out of me and I can’t stop it. It’s not even graceful. It’s ugly, heaving, snotty, shoulder-shaking grief. The kind that steals your breath and leaves your chest hollow.I cover my mouth with my hand to muffle the sounds, but I don’t think anyone’s listening.Good.Let them have their damn cake-covered disaster. Let them stand there stunned while I fall apart in peace.My cheek still sti
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Walk away
Logan Reynolds Viola’s fallen asleep beside me now.She’s curled against my shoulder, hair brushing my chin, one hand resting gently on my chest. Her breath comes in soft little waves. I haven’t moved in the past twenty minutes, afraid I’ll wake her.I want her.Not just in the way a man wants a woman. I want all of her. Her laughter. Her temper. Her soft heart. Her overthinking. Her fears. Her strength. I want her in the middle of a crowded street. I want her in silence like this. I want her in the worst chaos and the slowest mornings.But I don’t have her. Not really. Not yet.And every part of me wonders when the hell she’s finally going to walk out of that lifeless marriage and choose us. Choose me.A noise snaps me out of the thought.It starts low—a burst of raised voices from outside the door. Then it spikes.“FIND THEM!” Julian’s voice cuts through the hallway like a blade. Sharp. Frantic. Furious.I freeze.Viola stirs a little but doesn’t wake. I stay completely still, b
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine This moment
Viola McCoy My heart’s pounding as we near the ballroom doors. Susan and Fred are gone. Kendrick too. And I should be relieved, but all I feel is this rush of nerves flooding my chest like carbonation, bubbling, biting, impossible to contain.We’re almost there, just steps away from pretending everything’s normal again, when I reach out and touch Amirah’s arm.“You go in first,” I murmur.She glances at me, confused. Her lashes are still damp. She blinks, then nods and smooths her gown like she’s putting on armor. She disappears through the door.I grab Logan’s hand and tug him down another hallway, away from the light and noise. My heels echo against the marble, click-clack, click-clack, but my steps are shaky. My palms are sweating. There’s an ache forming behind my ribs that feels too much like guilt.I find an unused lounge tucked behind a staircase. The lighting is soft. There’s a velvet armchair in one corner and a low credenza stocked with first aid. Cicily keeps this pl
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Escape
Logan Reynolds The music swells again. We’re back under the glaring chandeliers, under the eyes of people too bored or too fake to notice that the bride and groom are practically trembling with each step.Susan is clutching Fred’s arm like a lifeline. He’s holding her steady, smiling through gritted teeth, and I can see the muscles in his jaw ticking from across the aisle. Viola walks just ahead of them in a sea-green satin gown, graceful, poised, like she hasn’t just broken into a safe and helped orchestrate an escape.Me? I’m the one trying not to bleed on my tie.We’ve rehearsed this. The plan is simple: walk them up the aisle, make it look like everything is peachy and proper, then slip out one by one. Cake-cutting distraction, kitchen route, maintenance exit. Freedom.And for a moment, it’s working.People rise from their chairs, a murmur of admiration sweeping across the ballroom. Phones flash. Cicily’s voice floats somewhere in the background. No one notices that Fred and S
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Deserving Freedom
Viola McCoy The air in the room is heavy as I stare down at the blinking keypad.Three attempts left.Julian’s birthday. I whisper the numbers as Logan types them in, his brows furrowed. Zero-three, zero-eight, nineteen-ninety-one.The safe blinks red.Incorrect."Okay," I say, exhaling through my nose"Try her birthday—Cicily’s."He doesn’t hesitate. Zero-four, zero-five, nineteen-sixty-seven.Another shrill beep.Incorrect.“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, stepping back, raking a hand through his hair. I can tell he’s trying not to panic. So am I. We’re one step away from everything falling apart. One more wrong guess and we set off an alert. Cicily will know. She’ll know someone’s been in her room.I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing past the panic curling up my spine. What’s something she’d never expect anyone to guess but would still be important enough to remember?Then Susan’s voice from earlier, comes back to me.“She monitors everything I do.”Of course.I blink open my e
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Stuck
Viola McCoy Viola McCoy I put on the last piece of jewelry—the gold earrings Julian’s mother gave me on my wedding day. They catch the light as I tuck a loose curl behind my ear. My reflection stares back at me from the vanity mirror. The warm, amber lights of the hotel bathroom halo me in a flattering glow. My skin looks smooth and my eyes are lined just enough. My lips, glossed in a muted berry pink, are parted slightly. There’s a quiet beauty in how still I am.My dress hugs me in all the right places—sleek, satin, pearl white. I breathe in, let the air fill my lungs and steel my nerves. Game face on.Time for Plan A.The hall is already bustling with sound and light. Strings of fairy lights line the high ceilings and a string quartet plays something classical that I don’t recognize. The scent of roses and candles curls through the air. Everything looks stunning. Beautiful. Fake. Just like this whole damn day.I spot Julian’s mother, Cicily, easily talking to a waiter near
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine The Plan
Viola McCoyMy head is pounding as my eyes flutter open. Light filters through the curtains in soft golden streaks. My mouth tastes stale, and there's a dull ache at the base of my skull, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. It takes me a moment to piece together where I am, why I’m here, and why my chest feels so heavy. I sit up slowly, the world tilting for a second before it steadies. The room smells faintly of cologne—Logan’s cologne. That clean, masculine scent still lingers in the air like he never left. He brought me back last night. That part I remember. His arms around me, solid and warm. The way I melted into his chest.My gaze shifts, and I freeze.Julian stands by the dresser in a crisp white suit and tie, straightening his cuffs. His reflection in the mirror is calm, almost pleased. Like nothing happened. Like everything is fine.My mouth is dry as I ask, “Where are you going?”He turns, adjusting his tie, eyes unreadable. “You’re awake?”I nod, my stomach churning w
