FAZER LOGINI wiped my face and sniffled. Mom continued, her voice gentler now. “I shouldn’t have said anything if it was going to make you this sad. Nothing is going to happen to the baby. I’m certain Tarzan took you to a decent studio. You’ll be fine—pregnant or not.” “Are you sure, Mom?” “Trust me. I’m your mother. I had a tattoo when I was pregnant with you. Go wash your face and come back. We are not walking out there with tears on your cheeks so the men start asking questions.” I nodded and went to the bathroom. When she said she’d gotten a tattoo while pregnant with me, I was sure she was lying to make me feel better. I had never seen a tattoo on her skin. Only my father had a few. When we stepped out of the bedroom into the living room, Tarzan was sitting with my father, talking about the Paris projects. My father listened carefully. Tarzan was doing most of the talking. The sight softened something in my chest. I hadn’t seen him this comfortable with my father before. T
LENA'S POV We finally arrived at Ricardo’s estate. Scar was behind the wheel. I sat in the back with Tarzan, my head already starting to rest against his shoulder before I even realized I was doing it. I couldn’t wait to get to my parents’ villa and show them the new tattoo. I didn’t think they’d be against it. I mean I am not a teenage girl but an adult. There was nothing wrong with me having a tattoo. Right? “What’s on your mind?” Tarzan’s voice came from beside me. I sighed and settled more fully against him. “Just thinking about my parents’ reaction. Whether they’ll think it’s cool or not.” He smiled. “I told you you might regret this.” I frowned. “You’re not helping,babe." He laughed. "Alright, I apologize ." "I don’t think I will regret it. I’m just thinking about what they might say. Whatever they say, I already got it. So what's the big deal?” -A few minutes later- I was standing in front of my mother, turning so she could see the ink, s
What the hell does Eric want this time? “Babe?” Lena’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up and forced a smile. “You got a call from Eric.” “Then answer it,” she said. The phone rang again. I picked up, just as she’d told me to. “Lena, you have to be in Paris as soon as possible. Mr. Jean-Pierre is on my neck about that contract you signed, and he’s threatening to sue. Please tell me you’ll be here tomorrow.” “Tell him he can go ahead and sue.” Lena’s head snapped up, curiosity flashing across her face. “Who—wait. Is that— You bastard, give her the phone!” Eric’s voice cracked with anger. I hung up. “Who is suing who?” Lena asked. I sighed. “Nothing you need to worry about.” “Oh, look. Controlling again,” Tina said. I straightened. “Eric called. Jean-Pierre wants to sue over a contract Lena signed because he needs her for something and she wasn’t available. I told Eric to tell Jean to go ahead and sue. That’s all.” The words came out clippe
The confidence Lena had walked in with vanished the second she saw the machine that would be used on her. Her eyes widened, fixed on the tattoo gun with the kind of apprehension one might reserve for a guillotine. She's so adorable... The way she looked at it, then at me, her fingers tightening around my bicep. "Is that going to hurt?" she asked, loud enough for everyone in the studio to hear. "A little," Tina said with a playful wink. "A little?" Lena whispered at me. I bit back a laugh, brought her hand to my lips, and kissed it tenderly. "You'll be fine. But if you want to change your mind, it's not too late. We go by your rules." I went on pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. She closed her eyes, drew a steadying breath, then opened them again. I saw the fire of determination burning behind her gaze. "I made up my mind to get this tattoo. And I will." I smiled, pride swelling in my chest. "Alright, Princess. Lie down here. Waist exposed," Tina in
My heart skipped.I searched Lena’s face for discomfort, for any flicker of doubt.“Girl, you better run for your life. He’s a red flag,” Tina added.“No, I’m not.” I turned to Lena. “Am I?”She said nothing.“You’ll get a better man. He doesn’t deserve you,” Tina went on.“What the fuck are you talking about?” My voice rose.“Wow! Jook at that—he’s being violent. So scary.” Tina clutched her chest in mock horror.I swallowed hard and looked at Lena again. My chest felt tight.“I’m not being controlling. I wasn’t being violent—” I stopped and turned to Lena. “You trust me, don’t you? Choose whoever you want. It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s your body,you should be the one to decide.”I shut my eyes and cursed at myself.Was I actually being a red flag?I opened my eyes and found Lena watching me. She tilted her head with a look that made me feel like a kid throwing a tantrum in a grocery aisle. "Baby...it's okay."She said with a patient smile.“Take a deep breath, baby. She’s just me
TARZAN'S POVWalking back into that tattoo studio after two years felt like opening a chapter I wasn’t sure I was ready to reread.The moment I stepped through the door with Lena beside me.Raymond looked up from his station mid-wipe, rag frozen in his hand. He stared at me. Then at Lena. Then back at me, like his brain had stalled.“No way.”I sighed. “Here we go.”Jacob spun in his chair. His eyes found Lena and went wide.“I know that face. Congrats, dude!”Heat crawled up my neck and I shook my head.Lena’s fingers curled around my bicep. She looked up at me, brows furrowed.“Why are they all looking at me like that?” she whispered.I leaned down, mouth close to her ear.“Last time I was here, I got your face tattooed on my back. They’re just shocked to see you in person.”“Oh… I see.”I straightened. “Can y’all not make my woman uncomfortable?”“No, sir,” came the chorus.Tina—the only woman in the shop—answered with a smirk, then turned to Lena, her expression softening.“Tar
MITCH'S POV I was staring at the TV replaying highlights of the match we’d lost 3-1 with bottles on the table in front of me. I cracked open another one, trying to flush down the frustration inside my chest. My childhood friend Jake walked in from the kitchen, towel over his shoulder, and rai
I forced myself up and walked back into the bedroom Mitch and I had shared for three years of our marriage. I hadn’t slept in that bed for over two years now. Not since I left it. Every morning, he used to wake me up to complain about my snoring. I apologized. Then… I started staying awake
I met Mitch fifteen years ago at a coffee shop. I was sixteen, working as a store assistant and trying to look like I had my life together. I still remember what I wore that day. A faded white sundress scattered with tiny yellow flowers. Sandals laced around my ankles. Mitch was standing in
You will never truly understand heartbreak until it comes from the same man who once adored you—who protected you, who loved you without hesitation. “What’s the number?” My husband’s voice came from the doorway. I flinched and looked up. That’s how sad my life had become—the usual routine of ste







