LOGINAfter years of living separate lives, Arya Sterling and Michael Stone find their paths crossing once again. The love they once shared was shattered when Michael's ex-girlfriend, Lana Fields, re-entered their lives, leaving their relationship in ruins. Years have passed since that fateful encounter, and time has brought change, growth, and healing. A chance meeting in a city far from home reignites old memories and feelings they thought were long buried. The spark between them is undeniable, but the scars of the past still linger. As they navigate through the complexities of their emotions, they must also face the reality of their present. Can Arya and Michael rekindle their love and trust for each other? Or will the ghost of Lana Fields continue to haunt them, especially since she shows up again.
View MoreI left Michael and by that time I was on my way home. It was evening time. I wasn’t far from my apartment when I felt it—a presence behind me. My pace quickened instinctively, but the footsteps behind me matched mine, steady and deliberate. I glanced over my shoulder, and my heart sank. Tony. He stepped out from the shadows, his eyes cold and predatory. My pulse quickened, and a wave of fear washed over me. "Tony," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "What are you doing here?" He smirked, a sinister glint in his eyes. "I heard you've been running your mouth about me, Arya. Getting Yasmeen’s family involved... Not a smart move." I took a step back, my mind racing. "Stay away from me." "Now, now," he said, closing the distance between us. "You should've stayed quiet. But you didn’t, did you? You had to ruin everything." Before I could react, he grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. I struggled, trying to pull away, but he was too strong. "Let me go!" I shouted, my vo
I sat frozen, staring at the door long after it closed behind him. My heart felt like it had been ripped from my chest, left beating somewhere on the other side. The silence in the kitchen was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision as I hugged myself, trying to hold in the sobs threatening to break free. But I couldn’t. The pain was too much, too raw. My shoulders shook as I cried, each tear falling like a piece of the life we had built together.Why did I wait so long to tell him?Why did I let fear control me?The questions circled in my mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. I couldn’t just sit here and drown in my own misery. I had to do something. I had to find him.Grabbing my coat from the back of the chair, I wiped my face hastily, though the tears continued to fall. My hands trembled as I fumble
"You seem distant," Michael said, his eyes searching mine as we sat together in the quiet of his kitchen, sipping our morning coffee. His voice was gentle but laced with concern.I looked down at the steam rising from my cup, avoiding his gaze. "I’m just... tired," I replied, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach my eyes. "Work’s been a lot lately."Michael frowned, clearly unconvinced. "Arya, I know you better than that. It’s not just work." He reached across the table, his hand warm as it covered mine. "What’s going on?"I hesitated, the words on the tip of my tongue, ready to spill out. Tell him. Be honest. But my mind flashed back to the elevator, to Damon’s kiss, and my chest tightened with guilt and confusion."I..." I started, then shook my head. "It’s nothing, really." I pulled my hand away, gripping the edge of the table as if it could anchor me. "Maybe I just need a little space to clear my head."Michael's eyes darkened slightly, a flicker of something—disappointment, may
I practically ran out of the elevator the second the doors opened, putting as much distance between me and Damon as possible. My heart was still racing, my lips still tingling from his kiss. Why did I kiss him back? The question replayed in my mind over and over as I forced myself to focus on the client meeting.I managed to get through it, delivering the pitch and discussing terms like nothing had happened, but I was on autopilot the entire time. The second it was over, I grabbed my things and headed home, needing to talk to someone—someone who wouldn’t judge me but would help me sort through this emotional chaos.Yasmeen was already lounging on the couch when I got home, a bowl of popcorn in her lap and a reality show playing on TV. She took one look at me and immediately knew something was up.“Oh no,” she said, setting the bowl aside. “What happened?”I dropped my bag and collapsed onto the couch beside her, burying my face in my hands. “You’re not going to believe this.”“Try me,












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