LOGINMEEKA'S POV::
I stand there, frozen. The world around me feels blurred. Everything happening in this place, all fading behind the thud of my heartbeat. He’s not even looking at me now. Just sitting there, swirling his whiskey like he didn’t just detonate a bomb in my chest. “Two…” he murmurs, voice calm, lazy, like he’s not counting down to my total undoing. “One.” My throat’s tight. I can’t tell if I’m shaking from anger or anticipation. Probably both. Then he leans back, his smirk widening just slightly. “Time’s up.” That should be my cue to leave. To grab my dignity, my bag, and walk out of this damn place like a sane person. But my feet? Yeah. They have other plans. However, I manage to find myself moving them, finally making it to the door. Almost. The night air hits me as I step outside, cool against my flushed skin. I take one deep breath, then another, trying to convince myself this is over. That I’m not going to do something stupid. Unfortunately, I've already done something stupid, because I can feel it.... the weight of that hotel key card in my pocket. Wait. What the hell..... When did I even pick it up? My fingers curl around it, and my stomach twists. “God, what’s wrong with me?” I whisper to no one, tilting my head back, staring at the city lights. I could go home. Forget this ever happened. Pretend he doesn’t make me feel things I have no business feeling. But instead, I find myself walking. One step, then another, toward the hotel room. Because apparently, I’ve lost my goddamn mind. SLADE’S POV:: A smirk curls at the corner of my lips as I watch her sashay toward the suite, hips swaying, and head high, pretending she isn’t trembling inside. Hell. She shouldn’t have come, but she has. And now, every dangerous thought crawling through my mind demands to be unleashed. She said she only came to tell me to stop.... to end whatever this is. But I know she’s lying. And she knows that I know she’s lying. I can see it in her eyes. That flicker of hesitation, that pulse in her throat giving her away. I’ve been fighting myself to stop whatever this is.... whatever she started. But how can I, when she’s my brother’s fiancée? Do you have any idea how intriguing that makes this? Still, there’s a reason I asked her to meet me tonight. One: I planned to let go if she refused to show up. If she stayed away, I would’ve walked away too. Maybe. But she didn’t. She came. She came, looking like sin in heels, spitting fire like she didn’t crave the same heat I do. Two: I dropped the key card, gave her one last chance to walk away. And she failed that too. We've only known each other for two days, but she always fails when it comes to me. So you see? I’m trying to be the good guy I’ve never been. But she’s walking straight to me willingly, like a sacrificial lamb. I smirk, finishing my drink, then slide out of the booth. My steps are slow and deliberate, each one echoing with the kind of hunger I’ve tried to bury. And as I head down the corridor toward Suite 1107, my pulse drums in rhythm with every wicked thought I’ve ever had about her. Because if she’s inside that room.... then she’s already mine, and there's no going back.The hallway is a bit quiet as I stroll in. Only the muffled hum of the city lights seeps through the tall glass windows, and the low buzz of the elevator dying behind me.I pause when I get to the suite, my hand hovering over the door handle for a moment, the ghost of a smile tugging at my lips.She’s here. I can feel and smell her, because the air around is already heavy with her scent before I even open the door. She smells like clean skin and something faintly floral. Soft enough to miss if you aren't close, warm enough to stay long after she's gone.I push it open slowly, and there she is.My little firecracker.Standing by the window, with her back to me, the city glowing behind her like a thousand little fires. Her long, dark hair is loose, falling in waves down her back. Her arms are crossed, but I can see the tremor in her shoulders.For a second, I just watch her. She’s nervous.Good. She should be.“I was starting to think you’d chickened out,” I murmur knowingly, shutting
MEEKA'S POV::I stand there, frozen. The world around me feels blurred. Everything happening in this place, all fading behind the thud of my heartbeat.He’s not even looking at me now. Just sitting there, swirling his whiskey like he didn’t just detonate a bomb in my chest.“Two…” he murmurs, voice calm, lazy, like he’s not counting down to my total undoing.“One.”My throat’s tight. I can’t tell if I’m shaking from anger or anticipation. Probably both.Then he leans back, his smirk widening just slightly. “Time’s up.”That should be my cue to leave.To grab my dignity, my bag, and walk out of this damn place like a sane person.But my feet?Yeah. They have other plans.However, I manage to find myself moving them, finally making it to the door.Almost.The night air hits me as I step outside, cool against my flushed skin. I take one deep breath, then another, trying to convince myself this is over. That I’m not going to do something stupid.Unfortunately, I've already done something
MEEKA'S POV::“Jesus,” I whisper, tossing my phone onto the passenger seat and starting the car. “Please don't let it be serious.”I speed through the streets, nerves unraveling with every red light.By the time I pull up to the DeWitt mansion, my chest feels tight. The huge black gates swing open like a mouth ready to swallow me whole.The moment I step out of the car, Vanessa is already waiting on the porch, her hands wringing together.“Vanessa,” I start, breathless. “What happened? Where's Nathaniel?”She exhales deeply, pressing a hand on her chest. “Oh, Meeka. Thank heavens you're here.”I grab my bag tighter. “What's going on? Is he—”“He's not feeling well,” she cuts in solemnly.My heart plummets. “Not feeling well? How bad is it? Did he faint? Should we call a doctor —”“He's in bed,” she says dramatically, lowering her voice like she's delivering tragic news. “And he's refusing to eat.”I blink. “What?”“He says he won't eat unless it's your chicken soup,” she says with mot
MEEKA'S POV::I grab the porcelain sink, splashing cold water on my face, but it does nothing to cool the fire racing through my veins.The restroom feels too small, too bright, and utterly too loud with the pounding of my heart.I shouldn't be shaken. I was drunk, and it was just one night. One stupid, reckless night of mistake. So I should just calm down, wash my face, go back to the party, and act like the perfect fiancee I've always been.I nod at myself, smoothing down my dress. I give my lips a little more lipstick, retouch my makeup and breathe out slowly as I stare at myself in the mirror to make sure I'm perfect.I smile and pick my purse. But just when I'm about to walk out, the door clicks open, and I freeze.Slade steps in like the restroom belongs to him, shutting the door with a deliberate care. His reflection catches mine in the mirror, that damn smirk carved across his lips, like he's enjoying a private joke only he understands.“What are you doing here?” My voice come
MEEKA'S POV::Nathaniel's hand grazes mine as we step out of his car, and I can already feel my heart racing in anticipation as we arrive at the venue for our engagement party.How I managed to dodge Nora's questions remains one of the remarkable feats I've accomplished this year.Honestly, what the hell was I supposed to say about last night?“Oh, nothing. I just casually let one dangerously sexy devil fuck me senseless.”Yeah, right.But I'm not celebrating just yet because I haven't truly gotten away. Not unless I manage to find a new best friend in the next few hours.I straighten myself up, trying to maintain my composure.The hotel stands before us like a palace. Cascading chandeliers are visible through the glass doors, and a red carpet lined with cameras flashes like gunfire.My breath catches, and I place a hand on my chest. I can't even explain why I'm feeling so nervous right now.We walk inside, where the air is rich with the scent of roses and luxury.The transformation c
MEEKA'S POV::My voice comes out raw, loud, and pointless, like I'm shouting at the universe for allowing something so small and precious to be destroyed while bigger, uglier things continue to thrive.My eyes sting, but I blink hard until the room comes into focus.I carefully gather the pieces in my palms one by one. The lid, the cylinder, the shattered mirror panel, the carved base—everything. I hold them tightly against my chest.I know it sounds ridiculous for me to be so dramatic. It’s just a box, an object after all.But it has always felt more than just an object to me. It was the sound that filled the quiet moments of my life and reminded me of so much. It grounds me, puts in a better mood when I'm doing the one thing that actually makes sense in my life.It’s one of the best gifts I've ever received.I sigh and pull myself off the floor with the broken pieces, placing them gently on the table."What could have made it fall like that? I really hope I can get it fixed."Shakin







