تسجيل الدخولSYDNEY I swallowed nervously, my heart hammering a rhythm so loud it felt like it was echoing off the velvet-covered walls of the VIP suite. Then the door creaked open with a slow groan and two figures stepped out of the shadows. As they walked into the soft, crimson glow of the light, my eyes widened, and the air in my lungs suddenly felt like it had turned to lead. The recognition hit me hard. My breath caught in the back of my throat, and I felt the room tilt just a little. I turned to Camden, my voice a shaky whisper. "You did not..." Camden didn't look a bit surprised. He just leaned back, a dark, triumphant smirk playing on his lips. "I told you I wanted this to be special, Syd. I told you I wanted to give you something you’d never forget." I turned back to the newcomers. My legs felt like they were made of jelly as I stood up. Stepping toward me was a man I had seen a thousand times, but only through a backlit screen in the dead of night when Cole was halfway across
SYDNEY The steam curled around me in thick, lazy ribbons as I stepped out of the bathtub, my skin flushed in a deep, rosy pink from the heat. I swiftly grabbed my plush white cotton robe and slid into it, the fabric feeling like a cool caress against my damp shoulders. As I stood there, humming a mindless pop song I’d heard on the radio, I caught my reflection in the full length mirror by the wall. Today was my wedding anniversary. Five years. A “milestone,” as my mother would call it. But as usual, Cole was nowhere to be found. He was currently thirty thousand feet in the air or already touching down in Beijing for a very crucial business trip that apparently couldn't wait for a single night of domestic bliss. Plus he’d be there for the next two weeks. Two good weeks. I’d gotten used to the empty side of the bed. I’d gotten used to the expensive "I’m sorry" jewelry that showed up via FedEx three days late. But what I hadn't gotten used to—and what I refused to accept—was
LAUREN "Oh my god, what would I do without you?" Taylor cried, lunging forward and hugging me so tightly I could barely breathe. "You’re the best friend anyone could ask for. Seriously." She pulled back, wiping her eyes and tucking a stray blonde extension behind her ear. "He’s more than likely at Liam’s place downtown. They’ve been holed up there all week 'gaming,' which is just code for drinking beer and going berserk. Go there now. Please." "Aye captain, I'm on it," I said, grabbing my purse and heading for the door before she could change her mind. Twenty minutes later, I pulled up to Liam’s apartment. It was a brick building that had seen better days, tucked into a corner of downtown that always smelled like exhaust and cheap pizza. My heart was racing with every step I took toward the entrance. This wasn't just a mission of seeking mercy; this was a heist. I found Liam in the common area, sitting on a raggedy recliner. He looked up as I walked in, a half-eaten taco in one
LAUREN I knew I should have never harbored a single feeling for Nolan Balor. I knew it from the very first day Taylor brought him over to our dorm, grinning like she’d just won the lottery. He was tall, with that messy dark hair and eyes that looked like they could see right through your clothes if he stared long enough. He was her boyfriend, which meant he was totally off-limits, a forbidden zone, a geographical location on the map of my life that should have been cordoned off with yellow police tape. But somehow, I’ve never been the kind of girl to play it safe. I’ve never been one to stick to the rules, especially when the rules felt like they were designed to keep me away from the only thing I actually wanted. Does that make me a bad friend? Probably. Actually, definitely. If there was a handbook for "How Not to Be a Total Backstabber," I’d probably be the lead example in the first chapter. But honestly, standing there day after day, watching them together, I reached a
DAKOTA I didn't say a word. I just reached out, my fingers trembling as I touched the pulse point at the base of his neck, our eyes burning into each other's. The collision was instant and brutal. He leaned in, and our lips met in a warm, hot, and intense crash that made my head spin. It wasn't hesitant this time; it was a demand. A very loud and clear demand.He tasted like hot, messy sin and the lingering sweetness probably from the wine he had during dinner. Conrad’s large hands were possessive and experienced as they slid under the hem of my shirt in a torturously slow and deliberate manner. I let out a broken gasp against his mouth as his palms skimmed over my ribs, sending tingling sensations all over my hypersensitive skin. Conrad didn't for once break from the kiss. He slowly reached around with a precision that made my brain go fuzzy, unbuckling my bra with a single, practiced motion. I was tired of waiting, tired of the barriers. I was craving him with an urgency that
DAKOTA The clinking of forks against expensive ceramic plates felt like a series of small explosions in Tiffany's fairly large dining room. I sat there, staring down at a mountain of spaghetti and meatballs that usually would have had me drooling, but right then, it felt like the little I'd eaten was stirring uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach. I felt like I was going to implode.And no, it wasn't just Conrad’s presence. It wasn't even the memory of that kiss—though “kiss” felt like a mild word for the way he’d basically rebranded my soul in the span of three minutes. That kiss had been super delicious, a messy, honey-flavored collision that had exceeded every wild, late-night imagination I’d ever had back in Colorado.The real reason I felt like a ticking time bomb was about to explode was Tiffany.She had walked in. She had seen us. And she had been so cool about it. That was the unsettling part. The idea that his mother was basically giving us a silent thumbs-up made my sk
CLARAI couldn't bring myself to respond. I was exhausted. Far too exhausted. Tyler didn't unbind me. He didn't offer a towel to wipe away the mess. Instead, he walked back to the desk in the centre of the room and picked up the fourth device.This one was different. It looked like a web of silver
ELARAThe heavy iron door clicked shut behind me, sealing out the damp, gasoline-scented air of the Bronx and locking me into a world where the rules of the Vance empire no longer applied. I followed a silent, masked attendant down a narrow corridor lined with peeling wallpaper and the faint, met
ELARAI sat in the solitude of my Upper East Side penthouse, staring out at the rough skyline of Manhattan. At thirty, I was supposed to be in my prime, a woman whose beauty was weaponized and celebrated. Instead, I felt like a delicate museum piece behind glass.My husband, Lorenzo Vance, was the
ROONEY The room was meant to be quiet and peaceful—if not for the deep, steady breathing coming from the bunk above me.I lay there, eyes fixed on the underside of the top bunk, as naughty thoughts slowly crept into my mind. Marge was out cold. I knew the signs—the way her breath hitched slightly







