LOGINIsabella’s POVWe stepped out of the apartment building into the crisp mid-morning air, and sure enough, the driver Jace had hired was already there…leaning against a shiny black SUV, scrolling on his phone. He straightened up the second he spotted us, gave a quick nod, and opened the back door.“Morning, ladies,” he said politely. “Ready when you are.”Agnes slid in first, and I followed, my legs still a little shaky from everything. The door clicked shut, and as the car pulled away from the curb, my mind wandered straight back to Jace.It had been two days after we first crashed into this apartment. I was still a mess…curled up in bed, eyes swollen from crying nonstop. Jace knocked softly, came in with two steaming mugs of coffee, and sat on the edge of the mattress like he was handling something fragile.He didn’t beat around the bush.“Isabella,” he said, voice low and way too serious for the guy who usually cracked jokes every five seconds trying to cheer me up. “I gotta get this
Isabella’s POVI don’t know how many days have passed by in that apartment. Time lost all meaning…just endless loops of staring at walls, crying until my eyes burned, and trying to stitch my heart back together with threads that kept snapping. Agnes never left my side. She cooked when I couldn’t eat, forced water into my hands, and held me through the nightmares that came every single night since that day.I kept seeing Damien’s face in the police station days ago. The same eyes. The same voice. The same man who broke me… and somehow, the same man who put me back together without me realizing it.I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened and how dirty it felt to be tangled up willingly to someone I swore never to cross paths with.Today, like every other day that has passed in a blur, I was lying on a couch in the living room of the apartment Jace booked for us. It was clean, modern, neutral colors, big windows letting in gray morning light. Not the Voss mansion. No
The Osmond Mansion ****Carlos stood frozen, the phone pressed hard against his ear. The voice on the other end was low, urgent, spilling words that hit him like punches to the gut. Olivia sat perfectly still in her chair, watching every twitch on his face. The study felt smaller now, the air heavier, like the walls were closing in.Carlos’s eyes widened just a fraction. His free hand clenched into a fist at his side. Then, without warning, he yanked the phone away and hurled it across the room. It smashed against the bookshelf with a sharp crack, pieces scattering on the hardwood floor.“Fuck!” he screamed, the word exploding out of him like he’d been holding it in for years. He spun around, face red, veins bulging in his neck. “Why the hell is that bastard trying to destroy everything?”Olivia jumped a little at the outburst, her swollen wrist throbbing from the sudden movement. She stared at him, eyebrows raised. “What the hell was that about?”Carlos paced like a caged animal, br
The Osmond Mansion ****The study door clicked shut behind Ariana and the guard, sealing Carlos Osmond and Olivia Horace in a bubble of thick silence. The air still smelled of blood and shattered glass, but the real poison was the two people left standing in it.Olivia waited a beat, then let out a soft, mocking laugh. She moved further into the study, cradling her swollen wrist, eyes gleaming with amusement.“Really, Mr Osmond,” she drawled, “your parenting skills are something else. Letting that spoiled little brat slap me twice and shove me to the ground as a guest in your own house?” She shook her head, lips curling. “You should watch her closer. Something tells me she’s going to ruin this whole thing for us. She thinks she’s smarter than everyone in the room. I could literally see through her.”Carlos straightened his cuffs, face sliding back into that calm, calculating mask he wore for business. “You shouldn’t have provoked her,” he said mildly, pouring himself a fresh scotch
The Osmond Mansion****If there was one person Ariana Osmond hated more than the man who’d raised her…who she was now convinced had blood on his hands…it was the woman leaning against the study doorframe like she owned the place.Olivia Horace.Damien’s so-called best friend. His loyal assistant. The snake who’d slithered into every corner of Ariana’s life in the past and ruined it piece by piece.Ariana had seen through her from the start. In fact, she had tried to warn Damien about her, but he hated her family so much that he didn’t even want to listen. “She’s not who you think she is. Watch your back.” But it came out wrong…jealous, obsessive. Because yes, for a long time, Ariana had been obsessed with Damien. She’d loved him with every reckless, all-or-nothing fiber of her being. And that is the only way Ariana knows to love. It’s either she loves obsessively or she doesn’t love at all.It started back when their families were still together. When they ate from the same table.
The Osmond Mansion****The Osmond mansion was supposed to be in mourning…black wreaths on the doors, hushed voices in the halls, staff moving like ghosts. But in Carlos Osmond’s private study, the air crackled with violence and rage.“What the hell does that mean!” Carlos roared, his face purple with rage. He swept an arm across his desk, sending crystal decanters and framed photos crashing to the floor. “He escaped? You’re telling me Liam escaped from this estate with all the guards and CCTV mounted at every corner?”The man in front of him…big, scarred, one of Carlo’s most trusted enforcers…flinched but didn’t back away. Not yet.Carlos snatched an iron bar that had been propped against the wall for some half-finished renovation and swung it hard. The metal connected with the back of the man’s knee with a sickening crack. The enforcer buckled, dropping to one knee with a choked grunt, sweat already beading on his forehead.“You’re worthless and a failure!” Carlos screamed, waving t







