Se connecterHe pointedly tilts his head to the side, lifting the collar of his shirt to reveal a highly distinct, slightly red set of bite marks perfectly imprinted against the tan skin of his collarbone. A silent, horrified scream echoes inside my brain. "After the assault on my person," he drawls, thorough
I instinctively try to sit up to assess the situation, but the movement is completely restricted. A heavy, incredibly solid, and warm hand is wrapped securely around my waist from behind, anchoring my lower back flat against a broad, muscular chest. A sudden, cold spike of panic shoots straight thr
I am watching the highly anticipated, big-budget blockbuster movie that I spent six grueling months of my life filming. The movie that was supposed to be my breakout, career-defining role. But as the lead actress strides across the screen, delivering the lines I practically memorized in my sleep,
I slow my pace down, turning my gaze to Owen's profile. "Tell me, what was it actually like? To lose your memories of those three years?" He pauses for a moment, his eyes drifting out toward the dark horizon. The playful smirk completely vanishes, replaced by a raw, vulnerable sincerity. "It was
He knew how much I had been looking forward to enjoying that specific meal before his ex turned it into a toxic drama fest, and he was deliberately ordering it for me now to give me a proper do-over. But then again, my eyes fly to the menu to check the prices and boy, there isn't a way in hell I'd
Owen steers the car through the traffic with an easy, practiced confidence, occasionally glancing over at me with a playful glint in his eye. "Just a fair warning, Sydney... the restaurant we are heading to happens to be one of my favorites in the entire city. And it also happens to be notoriously,
I’m holding a prop silver fork, ready to say my next line, when Marcus, the actor playing my love interest, suddenly drops his character mask. "I can't even look at you," he says, his voice loud enough to carry over the hum of the cooling fans. The cameras are still rolling, the red tally lights gl
I spin around. Lydia is standing there, leaning against a light stand, her arms crossed and a malicious glint in her eyes. She’s holding her own phone, the screen glowing with the same influencer video I just watched. "Funny how things work out, isn't it?" She scoffs, stepping closer. Her makeup is
Nicholas looks like he’s been through a blender. His usually perfectly coiffed hair is a nest of dark tangles, and he’s wearing his sunglasses indoors, which is never a good sign. He sheepishly reaches out to take the keys, his hand trembling just enough for the metal to jingle. "God, Sydney," he g
Nicholas is leaning heavily against the wall, looking entirely bewildered, while Owen is standing a few feet away, swaying slightly with his hands shoved in his pockets. "It... it attacked me," Nicholas mutters, pointing a shaky finger at the debris. "The vase. It moved. I’m certain of it." "You’r







