ログイン***GAME ON!***Tyler’s POVFuck.I couldn’t shake the image of her from this morning off my head.The entire gym conversation kept looping in my head like a bad highlight reel. I couldn't understand why I was suddenly attracted to her morning look. She was a complete mess—wrinkled flannels, hair all scattered. When I stepped in front of her and pulled her body flush against mine, the air had completely turned to rock.Did I actually want to kiss her? Why the hell did I stop?I could still vividly picture her in those pajamas, the thin fabric doing little to hide her full boobs inside that singlet. Her lips had looked full also and soft in the morning light, a total contrast to the sharp way she’d been staring at me in the kitchen later. The second I had met her gaze, the tension had lingered.I’ve always been against the idea of a contract dictating how I interact with someone, but I still signed the Auren Beauty deal anyway. Did I do it because I’d actually hurt her feelings duri
***MOMENTS THAT DEFINE US***Flora's POVThe sudden, high-pitched shrill of my phone cut through my sleep. I groaned, burying my face back into the plush pillows before blindly clawing at the nightstand. I swiped the screen, dragging the device to my ear. “Hello…?”“Good morning, Miss Morgan,” a professional voice chimed on the other end. “This is Jessica, secretary to the CEO of Auren Beauty. I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Sinclair has officially approved the contract. We will be forwarding the virtual documents to your email for your signature within the hour. Welcome to the team.” I sat up straight on the mattress, my eyes flying wide open as the words sank in. Auren Beauty. For a single second, pure excitement flooded my chest. Then, my brows furrowed as confusion immediately trailed behind it. Why did he change his mind? He had been so fiercely against the whole thing when the contract first came up days ago. What made him completely reverse his stance overnight?Before I
***MONUMENTS DONT HAVE HEARTS***Flora's POVThe curtains swung shut behind us, cutting off the suffocating glare of the studio lights, but the air backstage felt no easier to breathe.Behind the fabric, the fallout was already glaring. Half of the NHL personnel were nodding excitedly, huddled in tight corporate circles, whispering.The other half looked at Tyler as if he were a feral animal they had mistakenly let off its leash. He had defended me with a ruthless, protective precision that felt dangerously close to devotion.For a few terrifying seconds on that stage, it hadn't felt like a script. It had felt real.Tyler’s hand still remained flat against my back, his palm burning through my blouse as he guided me backstage.He didn't speak until we reached a secluded dressing room. He snatched a bottle of water from a silver tray, twisted the cap off with a sharp, impatient snap, and thrust it toward me.“Drink,” he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.I took the bottle, my f
***PUBLIC EXECUTION***Tyler's POV“...allegations that have reportedly left you blacklisted from working anywhere in your field. Considering Tyler comes from one of the most prominent, wealthy families in the country… Do you honestly believe a middle-class girl with a compromised financial background fits into his status quo? And more importantly, Flora… are these criminal claims true?”The air in the room became tense immediately. Beside me, Flora went entirely still. The soft, rhythmic breathing I’d been tracking for the last twenty minutes flatlined.The mechanical click-whir-click of the media camera and keyboards exploded into a frenzied, chaotic roar. Reporters were already leaning over their small desks, pens tearing into pads, their heads bent in frantic, venomous whispers.“Did you get that?”“Check her records now.”“Jesus, the Sinclair brand is going to take a massive hit.”Flora opened her mouth. Her lips parted, the pale pink skin trembling against the stark white glare
***THE DEBUT OF OUR LIES***Flora's POVI froze, the breath catching tight in my throat.Arthur Sinclair didn't look like a proud father; he looked like a predator inspecting a fresh trap.Beside me, Tyler didn't move a muscle, but I felt the violent change in him. “Father,” Tyler said. His voice was a flat, dangerous rasp that made the hair on my arms stand up. “We were just about to head out.”Arthur smiled—a terrifying, humorless curl of his lips that didn't reach his eyes. “I certainly hope that—”“...and tonight, folks, we have an exclusive! Making their very first televised appearance together, please welcome the NHL’s reigning MVP, the Devil on Ice himself, Tyler Sinclair—and his gorgeous new leading lady, Flora Morgan!” The studio monitor speaker right above our heads crackled to life, the host’s voice booming with theatrical energy.The muffled explosion of applause rattled the heavy black curtains.The stage manager frantically gestured at us, his headset glowing in the dar
***EVICTED***Flora's POV“Our hotel stay expired today,” I said, staring at the flashing red text. “We’re supposed to be out of Chicago this morning.” “This is exactly what I’ve been trying to discuss with you. Where do I get to stay for the next three months? And what about my best friend? We can’t exactly pitch a tent on the sidewalk while I play the part of your doting fake girlfriend.”Before he could answer, a frantic, rhythmic knocking rattled the door. It swung open immediately. Lucille burst in, holding three cups of coffee.“We've got a problem, Lucille,” I said, tapping the space beside me on the bed. She sat down and I thrust the phone into her face.Lucille’s eyes skimmed the text.She let out a long breath that deflated her shoulders. “I got it earlier this morning,” she whispered, rubbing her temples. “Forgot to tell you.” She looked up, her gaze shifting between Tyler and me, wide and uncertain. “So, what’s the play? Are we booking a one-way flight back to Los Angel







