Mag-log inizel's povMy dad told me to stay in the car, but there was zero chance I was sitting on my hands while a stranger stood on our porch threatening my family.I popped the door open and stepped out onto the concrete, my heart hammering against my ribs. Beside me, Izel got out too, her eyes wide as she grabbed my forearm. Wendy was right on her heels, her jaw set in a hard, protective line."Jason, I told you to stay put," my dad said, his voice tight as he turned around. He looked pale, like every bit of his billionaire confidence had drained out of him the moment this woman opened her mouth."I am not five years old, Dad," I said, stepping up beside him on the stone path. "Who is she?"The woman turned her sharp green eyes toward me, letting a fake, sickly sweet smile stretch across her face. Up close, her perfume was so strong it made my throat itch."Oh, you must be Jason," she purled, taking off her dark sunglasses. "You look so much like your father when he was younger. Back when h
JACE'S POVI felt Izel before I saw her. The sharp, clean scent of turpentine and vanilla cut through the suffocating fog of chlorine as she collided with my chest on the slick concrete pool deck. My arms locked around her by pure instinct, hauling her flush against me. She was sobbing, hot tears soaking into the collar of my wet tech suit, her small hands clutching my shoulders as if she expected me to dissolve right through the floor."You idiot," she choked out against my neck, her whole body shaking violently. "You absolute, reckless idiot.""I'm done, Iz," I rasped, burying my face in her wet hair, my heart thumping a slow, steady, safe rhythm against my ribs for the first time in months. "I'm done letting this pool kill me."Before I could kiss her, the entire world went up in a blinding flash of light.Dozens of camera lenses snapped from the bleachers. Reporters scrambled over the media barricades, shoving long boom mics over the railing as security guards shouted in vain to k
IZEL'S POVI slammed into Jace’s chest so hard my knees nearly buckled on the slick, chlorine-soaked concrete.His arms instantly wrapped around my waist, lifting my feet completely off the pool deck. He was drenched, smelling like high-concentration bleach and cold sweat, but his skin felt white-hot against my hands. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my chest heaving with ugly, gasping sobs that echoed over the deafening hum of the aquatic center.“You idiot,” I cried into his shoulder, my fingers digging into the wet neoprene of his tech suit. “You absolute, reckless, suicidal idiot.”“I’m done running, Iz,” Jace rasped against my ear, his voice rough and cracking like dry glass. His chest was rising and falling in heavy, shuddering gasps, but beneath my palm, the erratic, terrifying fluttering of his heart was finally starting to slow down. “I’m done letting this pool kill me.”Before I could kiss him, the entire universe exploded into absolute chaos.Flashbulbs flared lik
The contrast between the warm, softly lit art gallery and the sterile, roaring air of the Pacific Coast University aquatic center at 5:30 AM was enough to give anyone severe emotional whiplash.The morning sun hadn't even broken over the California horizon, but the bleachers were already packed. Banner flags fluttered from the ceiling rafters, coaches shouted over the reverberating echoes of splash water, and the sharp, chemical tang of high-concentration chlorine hung heavy in the humid air.In the varsity locker room, the energy was vibrating like a live wire.Jace sat on the low wooden bench in front of his locker, black tech suit pulled up over his thighs, staring down at his bare feet. Beneath the skin of his left chest, his heart felt like an angry creature trapped behind his ribs—slight, subtle, but undeniably present. The stress of the last twenty-four hours, the gallery showdown, and the sudden dawn summons had left his nerve endings completely exposed.The heavy metal door b
IZEL'S POVThe smell of paint stripper was so pungent it burned the back of my throat, but I was too numb to care. I sat cross-legged on the cold concrete floor of Studio B, staring at the ruined canvas with tears clogging my windpipe."Move," a quiet, command-filled voice ordered.Jace dropped to his knees beside me, not even bothering to pull off his jacket. He didn't offer empty pity or cliché comfort. Instead, he reached out, grabbed a broad palette knife from my workbench, and plunged it straight into the heart of the bubbling, melted paint."Jace, what are you doing?" I choked out, wiping my nose with the back of my paint-splattered sleeve. "It's completely trashed.""It's not trashed," he rasped, his dark eyes fierce as he violently scraped across the damaged center, dragging the melted indigo into bold, jagged black streaks across the gold background. "It's textured. You wanted an emotional breakdown on canvas, right? This is raw. Scraping it down makes it real. We're finishin
IZEL'S POVIf you had asked me on Wednesday morning if my life could get any more chaotic, I would have laughed hysterically while inhaling my third iced latte of the day. But apparently, the universe looked at my little viral quad kiss with Jace and decided to test how I handled a high society sociopath in designer stilettos.While Jace was busy being cornered outside the Pacific Coast University aquatic center by the queen of all campus narcissists, I was knee deep in art supplies, frantically trying to finish my showcase pieces before the gallery gods struck me down.Let us talk about Vivienne Ashford for a second.According to campus lore, Vivienne’s father pumped enough donor cash into PCU to fund a brand new Olympic pool, which apparently gave Vivienne lifetime VIP rights to act like a Victorian landowner. She was absolutely furious that Jace had publicly blown up their fake PR relationship to claim his messy, paint stained step sister instead.So, naturally, she tracked Jace do







