LOGIN(Author’s POV)
The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains of Skylar mansion as breakfast came and went without incident. The clinking of cutlery, occasional small talk, and the comforting aroma of toast and brewed coffee filled the air, but nothing out of the ordinary happened at the table.
Asher, who had returned from a late-night shoot only hours ago, w
(Author’s POV)The night had fallen completely over New York. Under the harsh, sterile glare of the emergency floodlights, the four most powerful, influential billionaires in the city were entirely reduced to nothing more than four devastated, grieving husbands. The empire they had built, the millions they commanded, and the formidable reputation that usually made the world tremble meant absolutely nothing as they sat huddled together on the dirt-stained concrete of the sidewalk pavement.Asher was sobbing hard, his broad shoulders convulsing violently. The shock of seeing Aurora’s bracelet clutched in Owen’s hand had completely shattered his composure."Aurora..." His voice cracked."Aurora..."He rep
(Author’s POV)For the entire four-hour flight from Mexico to New York, Asher felt like he was suffocating. The private jet cabin was quiet, too quiet. His manager, Damien, sat across from him while Carl remained nearby, both watching him with concern.The air conditioning was humming at full blast, yet thick beads of cold sweat rolled down his forehead, matting his unstyled hair against his skin. His hands, usually so steady under the glaring lights of a movie set, were shivering uncontrollably as he clutched his smartphone like a lifeline."Breathe, Asher. Just focus on your breathing," Damien said softly, kneeling beside the seat. He held out a bottle of water, his face etched with profound worry."We’re flying at top speed. The pilots are pushing th
(Author’s POV)Ryan and Ian's hope was short-lived because Owen continued, his voice shaking as he repeated what the fire captain had just told him about Tent 5."No!" Ryan immediately roared, violently shaking his head."No, absolutely not! We are not going into that tent!""We're not doing it, Owen!" Ian screamed, stepping back, his eyes wide with a manic, terrified denial.They completely and aggressively declined. They refused to believe their Aurora was dead when her full, beautiful body wasn't lying in front of them, so how could they possibly comprehend a reality where she was reduced to scattered fragments? They shook their heads repeatedly, their bodies forming a physical barrier to block Owen from
(Author’s POV)The three Skylar brothers sat motionless on the broken remains of what had once been a shopping mall. They were covered in cuts and dust. Blood trickled down their hands where concrete and twisted metal had torn their skin apart. Their expensive clothes were ruined. Their bodies ached. Yet none of it compared to the pain crushing their hearts.Ryan sat hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees, staring blankly at the ground. Ian's eyes were red and swollen. Tears sat stubbornly in both their eyes, refusing to fall because once they fell, the brothers feared it would mean accepting reality and they weren't ready, not yet.Seeing the profound, dangerous stillness settling over the brothers, the bodyguards and a few police officers stepped forward with immense caution. They gently but firmly pla
(Author’s POV)Six grueling hours had bled away since the rescue operation first commenced, turning the late afternoon into a cold, menacing twilight. One by one, firefighters emerged from the ruined structure carrying survivors. Every time the doors opened, hundreds of anxious eyes turned toward them and every single time, three pairs of eyes searched desperately.Through every agonizing minute of those six hours, Owen, Ryan, and Ian had stood at the perimeter like unyielding sentinels of grief but not once throughout the entire evening did their steps falter toward the isolated area where the stretchers covered in heavy, dark blankets were being lined up.They consciously, violently rejected the existence of that space. To look toward it, to even walk in its direction, was to acknowledge a realit
(Author’s POV)Thousands of miles away from New York, under the blazing Mexican sun, Asher's day had started like any other shooting day. Directors were shouting instructions, and heavy camera cranes were swinging through the air.Asher Skylar stood at the center of the set, looking like a commanding action star. He was halfway through a scene, his focus absolute, when his manager, Damien, suddenly bypassed the security barriers.The director yelled in frustration, but the anger vanished the moment everyone saw Damien’s face. He was completely pale, his hands shaking as he approached Asher."Asher, stop. We need to go," Damien choked out, his voice trembling as he gripped the actor’s leather jacket.







