The moment Amara’s eyes landed on the phone screen, her breath caught in her throat. Her hands trembled as she held the device, her pulse hammering in her ears. The message was simple, yet it carried the weight of something far more terrifying:“He won’t bother you again.”Her fingers hovered over the screen, her mind racing to process what it meant. Lucas. The one who had tormented her, who had tried to strip away what little dignity she had left. He had been untouchable, surrounded by power, influence, and a cruel sense of entitlement.And now… he had been beaten. Badly.A sharp breath shuddered from her lips. Fear coiled tightly in her stomach, a suffocating presence that refused to ease. Who sent this? Was it a warning? A confession? A promise?She wanted to reply—to ask, to demand answers—but something stopped her. A gnawing, paralyzing dread. If she responded, if she acknowledged this unseen force lingering in the dark corners of her life, what would happen next?The night stret
The whispers followed Amara like ghosts.They didn’t need to be loud—just sharp enough to sink into her skin like tiny blades.“Did you see that? Aldridge practically owns her.”“She didn’t even flinch when he touched her. Maybe she likes it.”“Lucas got what he deserved, but… what does she have that keeps Rafael interested?”Amara felt their eyes on her, felt the weight of their judgment, their amusement. But she couldn’t focus on them. Not when the world around her was tilting slightly, her head pounding from the impact of the ball that had slammed into her skull minutes earlier.A sharp sting pulsed at her temple, and when she blinked, her vision blurred for a moment before adjusting.She shouldn’t be standing.She shouldn’t be pushing through the crowd like she wasn’t bleeding.But what choice did she have?The air felt suffocating, and her skin still burned where Rafael had touched her—his fingers curling under her chin, his voice low, taunting, unforgivable.“Look what you’ve do
The silence in Amara’s apartment was suffocating.She was alone.Alone with the ghost of his touch.Alone with the weight of his words.“You’re mine, Lenz. And I don’t share.”The way Rafael had spoken those words, the way his fingers had wrapped around her chin, tilting her face up like he owned her—like he was branding her with his touch—it left something inside her aching, restless, and utterly shaken.She exhaled shakily, pressing her fingers against her lips.Her body was still on fire.A fire she couldn’t douse, no matter how hard she tried.Her hands clenched into fists.This wasn’t real. It was a game. His game.One she refused to lose.Her phone vibrated beside her.She grabbed it, praying for a distraction.A message.Her mystery man.Are you home?Her fingers hovered over the screen.Yes.A pause. Then—Did he hurt you?Her breath hitched.Her mind flashed back to Rafael’s grip on her chin, the way he had forced her to meet his gaze, the cruel stroke of his thumb along her
Amara felt like she was standing in the center of a battlefield.On one side—Rafael Aldridge.On the other—her mystery man.And she? She was the war they were silently fighting over.The biker’s arms around her were steady, unyielding, a shield against the men who had tried to corner her. Yet, despite the warmth, despite the security, something was missing.Something she shouldn’t be craving.Her breath was still uneven, her fingers curling against the cool leather of his jacket.Why did she feel so safe?Why did she feel so distant?Because even as the bike hummed beneath them, even as his presence wrapped around her like a protective cloak, her mind wandered elsewhere.To him.To Rafael.He was across the street, standing still, his sharp gaze a storm of unreadable emotions.But she knew.He was furious.Not at Lucas.At her.His eyes burned into her, watching, analyzing, controlling. Even from a distance, he made her feel like she was trapped in his hands.It terrified her.And wor
The tension in Rafael’s office was suffocating, thick with undercurrents of control, challenge, and something else—something far more dangerous.Amara remained hidden in the shadows, her breath shallow, her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear every word spoken beyond the door, every syllable laced with quiet threat.And then—the door opened.A slow, deliberate creak.Lucas Vance stepped inside, his gaze sharp, his presence almost suffocating.He didn’t move carelessly. He knew exactly where he was—inside Rafael Aldridge’s domain.And yet, he walked in anyway.Rafael leaned against his desk, one hand in his pocket, the other lazily tapping against the polished wood. Completely unbothered.“Vance,” Rafael greeted smoothly. “Strange place for you to wander into.”Lucas smirked slightly, stepping forward. “I could say the same about you.”Rafael’s gaze flickered with amusement. “My office? Hardly. It’s a little early to be getting lost, don’t you think?”Lucas ignored the taunt, h
The darkness stretched endlessly, swallowing everything in silence.Amara stood in the center of her childhood home—but it wasn’t abandoned.The scent of fresh bread and cinnamon filled the air, wrapping around her like an embrace. Her mother’s voice hummed softly from the kitchen, the sound gentle, familiar.“Come here, sweetheart.”Her father sat in his armchair, a book in his hands, his glasses slipping down his nose. He glanced up, smiling. Warm. Safe. Home.For a moment, she forgot.She forgot that none of this was real.She forgot what came next.But then—it started.The humming faltered.The warmth bled away.Her mother stopped moving.A chill ran down Amara’s spine as the world around her turned gray and lifeless.“Mom?” she whispered.And then—the scream.Loud. Piercing. Filled with terror.Amara’s breath hitched. She turned toward the hallway, toward the study—where she knew she would find her father.The door was open.The floor was slick beneath her feet.And her father wa