The echo of the door clicking shut was still in the air when I stepped onto the rooftop.Shane had just left—kissed my bruised forehead, ran his fingers through my hair, and whispered something soft about calling when he was done at the hospital. He even offered to have someone stay outside the door.But I needed the silence. I needed the calm before the storm I knew was still coming.So I slipped into my dark green bikini, grabbed my towel, and took the elevator to the rooftop pool. The sky was overcast, as if the world itself was holding its breath.I dove in.For a few moments, the water became my escape. Cool and quiet. I let myself float, weightless, letting the chlorine erase the scent of blood and betrayal still clinging to my skin.But peace, like everything else in my life, never lasted.When I surfaced, I saw him—Alejandro. Standing right at the edge of the pool like a ghost made flesh, flanked by two suited men with cold, unreadable eyes.What the actual hell?My breath cau
Shane was really determined to take care of me…he didn't wasn't to leave.Not even when I tridd convincing him that I was find and I could clean myself up.He just stood there staring at me like, what the hell…I'm the doctor here and I'm the one supposed to treat you.I can't blame him that much because I could actually be stubborn sometimes and he knows.He just stood there, arms crossed, face unreadable.“I’m staying,” he said simply, like it was non-negotiable. And honestly? I didn’t have the energy to fight him.“Fine,” I muttered, brushing past him toward the bathroom. “But if you're staying, you’re playing nurse.”His lips twitched. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” he replied.He followed me in silence, grabbing the first-aid kit from the hallway closet like he already knew where everything was. Typical Shane—he memorized my space like it was his.I sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching him as he knelt in front of me and set the kit down.His fingers were steady as he gently unzi
Back in my apartment,The lock clicked behind me as I stumbled into my penthouse, blood drying at my temple, ribs aching, adrenaline finally fading.I kicked the door shut with the back of my boot, letting the silence soak into my bones. My coat slid off, heavy with dust and battle, revealing the bruises already blooming beneath my clothes. The ghost of Clarissa’s betrayal clung to my skin. But I was alive and that was the part that mattered.I walked into the kitchen, poured myself a glass of water with trembling hands—and nearly dropped it when the door burst open.“Lovia!” a voice echoed in the room.I turned around sharply with a gasp. It was Shane. He was panting, wild-eyed, wearing a hoodie over hospital scrubs like he didn’t even stop to think. Just ran.He took one look at me—my busted lip, my torn sleeve, the smear of blood on my collar, and his entire body went rigid.“What the fuck happened?” he growled, stalking toward me like a man on the edge of violence.“I’m fine,” I
The air was thick with dread as I stepped out of the car.No bodyguards. No backup. No heels. Just me—in combat boots and a leather trench, hair pulled back like I was ready for war.I had told Ezekiel I needed time to think. Told Shane to leave me alone. But the Truth is? I wanted this.Whatever this mysterious threat was—it was time to end the guessing.I didn't want to go alone at first but I had no choice. This Mysterious person seems to know more about me than I think. They sent the location to me last night after leaving Ezekiel's penthouse.I drove almost 3 hours before reaching there.The location was an abandoned art gallery on the city’s forgotten side. The walls were crumbling and the air was filled with silence.The scent of mildew mixed with dust and the distant echo of betrayal.“Hello?“ I yelled as I reached the door step.The front door creaked open as I stepped inside. My heart didn’t pound. It whispered: Finally.A soft clapping echoed from the shadows.“Well, well… I
After Shane’s warning and that haunting photograph, my pulse had finally begun to settle. But in this game I was playing—being scared wasn’t a luxury I could afford. Being strategic was.Right when I sat in my car on my way back home from Shane's house. I pulled out my phone and texted the one man who never asked questions as long as I asked nicely—Ezekiel. “Can I see you tonight? I don’t feel safe. I think someone’s watching me.” I texted.I waited exactly two minutes—just long enough to seem shaken but not desperate.Then he replied, “My place. Now.”Perfect. I drove back home to change my outfit. I slipped into something more… persuasive. A black lace bodysuit hidden beneath a floor-length coat, thigh-high boots, and my hair tucked behind my ears like I was too tired to be dangerous.I stared in my mirror for the last time before living my apartment.I drove for about 6 minutes before getting to Ezekiel's penthouse.The security at his penthouse already knew me. They didn’t e
The next day.The sun was hidden behind an overcast veil as I made my way through the quiet, narrow street just outside the city. It felt like a different world—the kind where secrets didn’t whisper, they screamed.The tarot shop was tucked between a vintage book café and an abandoned record store. A carved wooden sign swung gently above the door:"Madame Circe – Tarot, Prophecy, and the Truth You Don’t Want to Hear."Dramatic much? Perfect….It seems Madame Circe is really up to something.I stepped inside, heels clicking on creaky floorboards. The air smelled of incense, cardamom, and danger. Heavy velvet drapes lined the room, and in the center sat a woman cloaked in purple and silver, her long white braids wrapped like vines across her shoulder.“Miss Lovia Diaz,” she said before I even introduced myself. Her accent was thick, Eastern European, and somehow ancient.“You’ve kept me up all night,” she added, gesturing for me to sit across the table from her.I raised a brow. “I ha