LOGINThe weight of the day felt like a physical burden on my shoulders. The whispers, the pitying glances after my message in the Elysium Foundation chat, the oppressive silence from Julian’s office—it had all built into a dense, suffocating pressure in my chest. Every time my phone had buzzed with another cheerful, oblivious message from the Elysium Foundation group, a fresh wave of nausea had washed over me. Their normal world was a planet I had been thrown from, and I was still tumbling through the empty, silent space between my old life and my new one.
I was packing my bag, my movements slow and weary, each item placed inside feeling
A profound sense of peace settled over Liam after Evelyn left. It wasn't the peace of getting what he had once thought he wanted; it was the deeper, more satisfying peace of things being set right. The tangled knot of a decade had finally been loosened. His heart felt light and clear, and for the first time, it knew exactly where it needed to go.He didn't go home. He drove across the city, his destination clear. He parked a block away from the small, independent gallery Chloe managed, needing a moment to gather his thoughts under the blanket of the night sky.He wasn't coming to her out of guilt or because he had no other choice. He was coming to her with a heart that was finally, completely open. Evelyn had been a beautiful, painful dream he had to wake up from. But Chloe… Chloe was the steady, warm reality waiting for him.The gallery was dark except for a soft light emanating from the back studio. Through the glass door, he could see her silhouette mo
The night air was cool against my flushed skin as I stood outside the familiar, imposing apartment door. My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs, a mix of terror and exhilarating certainty. I raised a trembling hand and pressed the doorbell.Inside, Julian was drowning. An empty bottle of expensive Bordeaux sat on the coffee table beside a half-full glass. He was sprawled on his sofa, still in his work clothes, his tie loosened and his hair disheveled. The television was on, but he wasn't watching it. He was staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to numb the relentless ache in his chest with the wine. Sleep was a forgotten luxury; his only solace was the blessed blurring of the ed
Six months later…The room was decorated in a theme of pristine white. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, dominated by the deep, romantic fragrance of roses—my favorite—their crimson hue a stark, beautiful contrast against the white walls and flowing curtains. I stood before a huge, floor-to-ceiling mirror, my breath catching in my throat.The mirror reflected a figure I barely recognized. The white wedding dress was perfection itself, hugging my curves in all the right places before flowing out into a graceful train. It was elegant, timeless, and utterly breathtaking. I looked… outstanding. A bride in every sense of the word.
The Thorne family residence was not a home; it was a museum of cold, impeccable taste. Every piece of furniture was placed with geometric precision, every surface gleamed under the soft, recessed lighting, and the silence was so profound it felt like a physical presence. I stood in the vast, minimalist dining room, feeling like a misplaced, breathing exhibit.Chairman Thorne sat at the head of a long, obsidian table that could easily seat twenty. He did not rise when I was shown in. He merely gestured with a slow, deliberate hand to the single place setting directly to his right. The distance between us felt both intimate and infinite.“Ms. Sharpe,” he said by way of greeting.
The weight of the day felt like a physical burden on my shoulders. The whispers, the pitying glances after my message in the Elysium Foundation chat, the oppressive silence from Julian’s office—it had all built into a dense, suffocating pressure in my chest. Every time my phone had buzzed with another cheerful, oblivious message from the Elysium Foundation group, a fresh wave of nausea had washed over me. Their normal world was a planet I had been thrown from, and I was still tumbling through the empty, silent space between my old life and my new one.I was packing my bag, my movements slow and weary, each item placed inside feeling
I did not walk away. His question hung in the air, a plea from the abyss, and I found I had one last thing to say. The coldness in my heart had crystallized into something sharp and clear."Forgiveness isn't the point, Julian," I said, my voice unnervingly calm. "And I was not the main person you needed to ask it from."He looked up, confusion breaking through his despair."What—""In your cold, calculated game," I continued, cutting him off, "maybe I could be regarded as collateral damage. A casualty you caused in your bigger war."He flinched as if I'd struck him. His mouth opened, a







