Flynn’s POV I stood at the entrance of the door to the man’s house, the one who had taken my sister from me. Her life, snuffed out in a heartbeat, and the police — those incompetent fools — claimed she had done it to herself. The autopsy confirmed it: suicide. But that wasn’t my truth. It couldn’t be. I would never accept that, not when I knew the man who had been in her life, the one who had caused her so much pain, was still breathing, still walking free. That was my problem. It should be his damn problem.I could feel my jaw tightening as the heat of my anger boiled over, a pressure building in my chest. I hissed, a sharp exhale that burned in my lungs, clenching my fists at my sides. I raised my hand to knock, my knuckles hovering in the air, but just as I was about to strike, I felt a tap on my shoulder.“Who are you?” A voice, cold, demanding, sharp with authority—familiar too. It was her. The loud-mouthed woman from the police station.Mona.The last time I had seen her, she w
Author’s POVMona’s fingers gripped the doorknob so tightly, her knuckles turned white as she stormed down the stairs, her heart thudding with frustration. The nerve of Ian, treating her like some servant just to get the job done. After all these years of holding the reins, now he was treating her like she was disposable. She could feel the anger bubbling up inside her as she reached the bottom of the stairs, practically shaking with annoyance.Slamming the door behind her, Mona whipped around, her hair flying like a wild storm. How dare he, how dare he, just dismiss her like that! It wasn’t like she had nothing better to do than watch Ian and Flynn stare each other down in that godforsaken house. She had a life, damn it.But no, it wasn’t the time for pouting. She turned back to the door. Maybe she could still catch a glimpse, listen in. She’d been around long enough to know that Ian’s cool façade was always hiding something, and that man—Flynn—had “revenge” written all over him. Mon
Author povFlynn stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the kitchen counter. The familiar scent of simmering spices filled the room, but her attention wasn’t on the meal she was preparing. Instead, she could feel the weight of Ian’s gaze from across the room, the soft hum of his disapproving presence growing louder in the space between them."I still don’t think it's necessary, Ian," Flynn said, her tone measured but firm. She wasn't going to give in to him, not this time. "I can handle the kitchen on my own, thank you very much. I’m more than capable of cooking without Mona’s help." Her voice carried a hint of finality, as though the matter was closed.Ian was quiet for a moment, his gaze unwavering. He leaned back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest, and the silence stretched thin between them. Flynn could almost hear the gears in his mind turning, considering his next words."I understand you're upset, Flynn," Ian finally said, his voice calm, yet there was an unde
Vance's POVI hadn’t heard from Mona in days. The silence had been suffocating. Since the night she left the pub with that look in her eyes, everything had gone cold. Every call I made to her voicemail, every text went unanswered. It wasn’t like her to shut me out like this. She had been distant before, but this—this was something different.It was like she had slipped into another world, leaving me stranded in the wake of her absence. I couldn’t figure it out. Something had changed, and it was gnawing at me, distracting me. The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I became. I needed to see her, to know what was going on. To make sense of whatever had crawled under her skin.I decided to go to her mansion, to confront her face-to-face. The drive was long, my mind racing with all the questions I wanted to ask, but it didn’t matter. I needed answers, even if they would tear apart whatever fragile connection we still had.Pulling up to the iron gates, I felt a twist of unease in
Mona's POVThe audacity of him standing there in my house, that too with her around. Vance. Of all people. The very person who had played a role in the mess I was trying so desperately to escape. I stared at him, every fiber of my being burning with confusion and frustration. My fist clenched tighter as I struggled to hold back a slew of emotions. Was I angry at him? At myself? At this whole damn situation?"What the hell are you doing in my house, Vance?" I couldn't keep my voice steady. It cracked, betraying the mess of emotions swirling inside me. "Why the hell are you here, after everything that happened with Ian? After everything you've done?"He stood there, as if trying to figure out how to navigate the whirlwind of my wrath. His eyes were dark, but his face remained neutral. Too neutral. The way he stared at Flynn—standing just behind him, clearly waiting for a moment to pounce—had me seething.Is he… is he interested in her?The thought alone was enough to make my stomach twi
Vance's Point of ViewFlynn was just about to turn and walk out, her back straight, her expression cool as ice, when my hand shot out and gripped her wrist. She froze, her breath catching slightly at the contact, and I could feel the subtle tension in her body. She was on the edge, ready to retreat, but I wasn’t done yet. Not when everything inside me felt like it was coming apart.“Hey,” I said, my voice low, but with an edge that betrayed my nerves. “Can we talk?”She didn’t immediately respond. Her eyes locked onto mine, cold and calculating, but there was something more behind that steel wall. I could see the way her pulse quickened at the edge of her throat, the slight shift of her stance, as if she was debating whether to pull away or stay.I didn’t want to let her go. Not yet. Not like this.“Vance,” she said after a moment, her voice cool, clipped. “What is it that you want? You’ve got your own mess to sort out with Mona, and I—"“I know,” I interrupted, trying to steady my br
Vance’s POV “Did you just say you've fallen in love with someone else? That's crazy!” My sister exclaimed, sipping her juice without even minding the frown on my face. I stared at her, my pulse hammering in my ears, trying to process the weight of her words. Fallen in love with someone else? The idea sounded absurd, even to my own mind, but deep down, I knew it was true. She didn’t seem to notice the shift in the air. She sipped her juice, eyes darting around the room as if we were having the most casual conversation of all time. “Did you hear me?” she asked, her voice light and teasing. “You’ve fallen in love with someone else. That’s crazy.” I clenched my jaw and fought to control my breath. Of course, she had to say it out loud. But it wasn’t like I had the luxury of avoiding this anymore. The thing I had never planned on, never even considered, was happening. “Just shut up,” I muttered, trying to force the words through my teeth. “I’m trying to figure something out.” My
Mona's POV I noticed the smile on Flynn after I had left her and Vance at the entrance to the room. My jaw clenched as I saw her approaching me. There was something about the way she walked toward me—too confident, too... well, Flynn. Her smile was wide, and I could already feel the tension creeping up my neck. It wasn’t just a simple smile either. No, this was the kind of smile that came with a giggle. A giggle, for God’s sake. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, standing as rigidly as a statue, hoping to send the message that I wasn't interested in whatever nonsense she was about to pull out of her perfect little pocket of tricks. I stared at her with pure, unfiltered anger and hatred, letting it boil beneath the surface, like a cauldron of resentment ready to spill over. Flynn stopped in front of me, that infuriating smile still plastered across her face. It was as if she didn’t care that I couldn’t stand the sight of her. “Mona,” she said, her voice so sweet it practicall
Ian’s POVThe room was packed—executives, lawyers, shareholders, even a few smug interns pretending they belonged. Everyone looked polished, precise, pretending they weren’t all silently judging the delay. The air was stiff with anticipation, sharp like glass about to shatter.I couldn’t sit still. The deal was moments from collapsing. The final signature? Mia’s. The genius behind the entire project. The brains, the blueprint, the only one who could pull it off. And she was nowhere.I checked my phone. Nothing. Not even a ghost of a delivered message."Where the hell is she?" I mumbled, pacing behind the long glass table while everyone avoided my eyes.I stepped out of the conference room, heart hammering in my throat. The hallway felt colder. I dialed her again—voicemail. Again. Straight to voicemail.“Pick up, Mia. Come on…”Fifth call. Sixth. I stared at the screen as if it owed me answers.Still nothing.My throat tightened. I called her mother.“Ian?” she answered, surprised. “Mi
MONA – POV“Mona? Mona, are you okay?”The voice felt distant—like it was echoing through a long tunnel. I blinked slowly, my head swimming, limbs heavy. Was I dreaming?“Mona!”SMACK!My head snapped to the side from the force of a slap. My eyes flew open.“What the hell?!” I gasped, jerking upright.I was on the couch. My chest was heaving, heart racing like I’d just run a marathon. My tongue felt thick. My mouth was dry. My limbs? Numb. I looked up to see Ian standing over me, a look of concern mixed with exasperation on his face.“You slapped me!” I barked, dragging my legs off the couch.“You weren’t waking up!” Ian shot back, throwing his hands up. “I’ve been trying for ten minutes! How long have you been out?”I blinked at him, my brain still foggy. “I don’t know—when did you get back?”He checked his watch, then crossed his arms. “I got home over three hours ago.”Three. Hours.I screamed.Ian jumped back, startled. “Whoa! Okay—calm down!”“Three hours? Are you serious?!” I wa
Author's POVShe ran like hell was licking at her heels. Her breath tore from her throat in jagged gasps, eyes wide and glassy, barely seeing where she was going. The night was cool but her skin burned, slick with sweat, heart pounding loud in her ears like war drums. She didn’t dare look back. Not once. She didn’t need to. Brown’s rage was enough to propel her forward, each step screaming with a desperation that only comes when you know—know—you’ve just danced with death and somehow slipped away with your soul.Her boots pounded against cracked pavement, weaving through alleys until she burst into the open light of the main road. Neon signs blinked like watching eyes. Cars hummed by, indifferent to the storm in her bones.And then—tires screeched.A black car jerked to a stop right in front of her. She stumbled back with a startled gasp, ready to bolt again, until the driver’s window rolled down.“Well, damn. That you?”The voice was like velvet and trouble wrapped in sarcasm. Her ey
Brown's POV"What the hell are you saying? You can't bring the documents containing Ian's business deal with the Europeans?" I growled, my voice rough as gravel, slicing through the air like a blade. My fist slammed into the oak table with a thunderous crack, shaking the glass and papers that sat on its surface. She flinched, her body recoiling instinctively. Her wide, glossy eyes stared at me—frightened, wounded. She looked like a cornered animal, ready to bolt, but too broken to run."I—I'm trying my best, Brown. It's not easy to work as a help in a toxic home just to get valuable documents," she stammered, voice trembling, hands wringing together. Her lip quivered as she took a shaky step back, brushing her knuckles over her cheek.“I killed their cook… in the name of getting this…” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard, trying to compose herself, but the fear in her gaze betrayed her strength.The words hit me like a slap. Killed? That was unexpected, even for her.She backed
Flynn’s POVBut Mona wasn’t having it. She stepped into the doorway, blocking my exit. Her presence filled the space, making the already small hallway feel even more suffocating."No, no, no, Flynn," she said, shaking her head in mock sympathy. "You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on." She crossed her arms tighter across her chest, making sure I knew she wasn’t backing down. "You don’t just sneak out of here without telling me where you’re going. You work for me, remember?"I bit my lip to keep from snapping. Mona had this habit of reminding me of my position every chance she got, and it never failed to get under my skin. I didn’t want to fight her, but I knew I had no choice. If she got curious enough, she’d find out more than she needed to, and that would put me in even more danger."I’m just... taking care of some things. Personal stuff." I repeated, my voice a little more forceful this time, hoping she'd buy it.But Mona was no fool. Her sharp eyes bored into
Flynn’s POVI was still rolling from one end of my bed to the other, wrapped in my comforter like a burrito, when my phone rang. Loud. Way too loud. Like, offensive-to-my-eardrums loud.I groaned, blindly flinging a hand over the bed, searching for the buzzing traitor that had the audacity to disrupt my sleep. My fingers finally landed on the screen, and I yanked it up toward my face, my eyes squinting like the sun itself had just slapped me.“Who the hell—” I mumbled, my voice scratchy, crust still in the corner of my eyes. I blinked. The caller ID was just a string of numbers, no name. Suspicious. Rude.I debated tossing it back under my pillow. Whoever it was could wait. Or not exist. Preferably both. But just as I was about to end the call with a swipe of my pinky, a loud voice boomed through the phone speaker:“FLYNN!”I flinched so hard I nearly dropped the phone on my face.Oh. No. That voice.“Shit,” I whispered, sitting upright with the speed of someone who just realized they
Ian’s POVI was hearing voices downstairs—raised, sharp, female voices—and my stomach dropped like a stone in a pond.At first, I thought I was imagining it. I’d barely made it down the driveway, needed a damn breather after that phone call, but the moment I got out of the car, the shrieking tone of Mai’s laugh sliced through the quiet like a chainsaw in a library.What the actual hell?I took the porch steps two at a time and threw open the front door.And that’s when chaos hit me square in the face.Mona came flying at me like a human missile, barefoot, hair wild, wearing nothing but my shirt and righteous fury. She launched into my arms like a hurricane had possessed her.“She came here!” she shouted, voice muffled against my chest. “She came here like the devil on a bender, Ian! She was in the kitchen, giggling and scheming and trying to possess your soul or some crap like that!”I blinked. “Uh… who?”She pulled back, eyes blazing. “MAI!”Behind her, Flynn raised a hand like a wea
Mona’s POVI watched him leave, the front door closing behind him with a finality that settled in my bones like a slow, creeping frost. Ian didn’t even look back.I should’ve been angry. Furious, maybe. But all I felt was hollow. My chest ached, the silence stretching out in the room like a punishment. And all because he answered a damn call. From her. Mai.That good-for-nothing, manipulative, arrogant... illiterate.I hated how it made me feel. Jealous. Insecure. Like I was twelve again and being picked last for the team, only this time the prize was Ian, and I was the one losing.I ran a hand through my tangled curls, eyes burning as I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The house felt colder without him in it. Colder and quieter.I pulled his shirt tighter around me—the one I slept in last night. The hem brushed mid-thigh, soft cotton and his scent wrapping around me like a second skin. I padded toward the stairs barefoot, each step a whisper against the polished wood.
Mona’s POVIan?Wait—what the hell are you doing here?I blinked once. Twice. But no, I wasn’t hallucinating. It was him. Ian Devereux, standing like a ghost from a past I had just buried — in broad daylight, in front of my favorite corner café, where I was supposed to be minding my business and my cappuccino.I narrowed my eyes, instantly on edge. “I thought we got things over. You chose Me over me, remember? So what’s with the long face? She not reading bedtime stories anymore?”He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was messier than usual, like he’d been running his hands through it out of habit. He wore the same black coat I once stole to sleep in, and the way it clung to his frame made him look colder, heavier… like guilt had a physical weight.“Mona,” he said my name like it was an apology in itself. I didn’t flinch.“No, seriously,” I continued, folding my arms across my chest. “What do you want, Ian? Closure? A sequel? Or are you just here to remind me that I was stu