LOGINI step forward, launching myself directly into his embrace. The second my arms wrap around his shoulders, Tobias’s entire imposing, billionaire frame completely relaxes. He wraps his powerful arms around me, pulling me flat against his chest and hugging me so tight, burying his face into my hair, as
I am staring at the grand, sweeping marble staircase of the Moore mansion, desperately wishing I possessed the magical ability to combust into a cloud of harmless dust. Owen and I are standing side-by-side at the bottom of the steps, waiting for Tobias to make his grand re-entry. It has been exactl
I don't know how to feel. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do with my hands. The sheer, overwhelming weight of the truth crashes down on my central nervous system all at once. A massive wave of intense, trembling heat rushes up my chest, and my stomach violently convulses. My nerves a
At the far end of the gallery, Tobias Moore is standing completely still. His back is turned to us, his tall, imposing frame draped in a casual designer shirt as he stares intensely at a massive, heavily gilded family oil painting hanging on the center wall. "Tobias?" I call out softly, my steps sl
My smartphone is currently screaming at me from the nightstand, and I am actively attempting to suffocate it with a fluffy pillow. I am still tangled up in Owen’s ridiculously soft designer bedsheets, feeling like a human burrito. My head is pounding from yesterday's massive red wine intake, and th
I pick up my fork, taking a bite of the salmon. "Alright, fine. You win." As the quiet clinking of silver against porcelain fills the air, Tobias takes a slow sip of his black coffee, his expression entirely unreadable. "You’ve been remarkably quiet these past few days, Owen. No updates, no phone
"Oh my...oh my God..." I’m standing on the sidewalk outside Owen’s law firm, my chest heaving as I gasp for air that feels far too thin. My ears are ringing with the echo of Georgia’s cooing voice, and all I can see is the image of her draped over Owen’s lap like she belonged there. Was he playi
I run a trembling hand over my face, desperately trying to clear my vision, but it’s a losing battle. The rain, courtesy of three massive industrial overhead sprinklers, is relentless, pouring down on me in icy, heavy sheets that make my skin sting. I’m standing in the middle of a simulated street
"Again!" My voice cracks through the silence of the soundstage. I’m standing near the monitors, my arms crossed so tightly my muscles ache, but I don't care. I don't care about the collective groan of the crew or the way the lighting technicians are looking at their watches. Sydney is standing in
"My silk! My custom bias-cut silk! Sydney, what happened?!" "Lydia happened," I say, standing as still as a statue. "Can we save it? Or do I go out there and take the penalty?" Marta examines the stain, her face pale. Sarah walks over, peering at the way the coffee has dried in streaks across the







