LOGINI don’t move. I don’t even breathe.
He’s still standing there across the street, leaning casually against the lamppost like he has nowhere else to be. His black suit absorbs the weak light, but his eyes don’t.
They lock on me like he can see through
the thin curtain, through the walls, straight into my skull. He lifts the phone to his ear again. My phone buzzes on the nightstand.
I glance at Evan. He’s still asleep, his arm draped carelessly over the sheets. Oblivious.
I grab my phone, hands shaking a little. The screen lights up with a new message. Come outside. My throat tightens. No name, no number, just those two words.
My first instinct is to ignore it. But then another message arrives before I can even put the phone down.
Before he wakes up. I look at Evan again. His chest rises and falls, steady and calm. The man who killed me sleeps like he’s never done anything wrong.
This is insane. I should call the police. I should scream. I should do anything except go outside. But something deep in my gut whispers that this man isn’t random.
He’s connected to all of this.
I don’t move. I don’t even breathe.He’s still standing there across the street, leaning casually against the lamppost like he has nowhere else to be. His black suit absorbs the weak light, but his eyes don’t. They lock on me like he can see throughthe thin curtain, through the walls, straight into my skull. He lifts the phone to his ear again. My phone buzzes on the nightstand.I glance at Evan. He’s still asleep, his arm draped carelessly over the sheets. Oblivious.I grab my phone, hands shaking a little. The screen lights up with a new message. Come outside. My throat tightens. No name, no number, just those two words.My first instinct is to ignore it. But then another message arrives before I can even put the phone down.Before he wakes up. I look at Evan again. His chest rises and falls, steady and calm. The man who killed me sleeps like he’s never done anything wrong.This is insane. I should call the police. I should scream. I should do anything except go outside. But somet
When I walk back into the apartment, Evan is standing in the kitchen shirtless, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee.Sunlight spills through the window, catching on his skin, making him look like the man I used to love. It would have made me weak once.Now, all I see is a liar wrapped in soft morning light.“You disappeared,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “I thought we were having breakfast.” I close the door behind me and hang my sweater on the hook. My voice is steady when I say, “I needed some air.”His eyes narrow slightly, like he’s looking for cracks in my words.“You’re acting weird.” Weird? Yeah, dying and waking up ten years in the past will do that to you.I force a small laugh. “Sorry. Bad dream. I needed to clear my head.”He studies me for a few seconds before nodding, pretending he’s buying it. His thoughts slide into my head like someone’s whispering in my ear. She’s moody today. Must be that time of the month. I’ll just charm her later. I smile so hard my
The first thing I feel is warmth. A heavy, familiar weight draped over my waist. A soft breath against my neck. For a moment, I almost convince myself it’s just another nightmare. But nightmares don’t feel this real.My eyes snap open.The ceiling above me isn’t the white sterile hospital ceiling I expected.It’s the pale beige ceiling of our old apartment. The one we lived in years ago, when I still believed Evan and I had a future. The curtains flutter in the soft morning breeze from the cracked window. The cheap clock on the nightstand ticks steadily, just like it did when we couldn’t afford anything better.My heart slams against my ribs.Evan’s arm is wrapped tightly around me, his chest pressed against my back. His breathing is slow, even. He’s asleep.I don’t move. I can’t. I just stare at the wall, trying to understand how I went from bleeding on the floor of a ball room to this. No, this isn't real. I shift slightly, testing the weight of his arm. His hand twitches but doesn’
The sound of champagne glasses clinking felt like a bad joke. I was standing in the middle of the ballroom, dressed in the red dress Evan had picked for me, surrounded by people who didn’t even know my name. All they cared about was him. Evan Grayson. Golden boy. Charming smile. Liar.He was standing a few feet away, holding a glass of whiskey and laughing like everything was perfect.His hand was resting on Emma Lancaster’s lower back like it had every right to be there.I stared at that hand. The same hand that used to hold me at night. The same hand that promised me forever.Laughter bubbled up in my throat, but it didn’t sound like me. It sounded cracked and broken.Ten years of my life. Ten years of being his shadow, his quiet supporter, the woman behind the scenes. I gave him my heart, my body, my time. He gave me lies. “Aria,” Lena hissed beside me. She grabbed my arm, squeezing it.“Don’t do anything stupid.” “Stupid?” I whispered. “I’ve been doing stupid for ten years.” He







