The text lingered in my mind like poison:“Break him again, and I’ll break you. You won’t see it coming.”My chest tightened. My palms trembled as I clutched my phone to my chest, praying it was just some cruel prank. But deep down, I knew better. Whoever sent that message meant every word.And suddenly, I couldn’t breathe in that house anymore. I needed air. I needed answers.That was when another notification blinked on my phone—this time from Eli, he sent me his Address. “Alden Estate,280 Crestview Drive. Montecito Heights, California, USA.Please come if you’re free, it will mean a lot to me”It felt like fate—or a trap. But I was too restless to say no.I grabbed my bag, hailed a cab, and gave the driver the address Eli had sent.The city lights blurred past the window, and my heart thumped harder the closer we got. But nothing—absolutely nothing—prepared me for what I saw when we pulled up.The cab slowed before massive steel gates that gleamed under golden security lights. Wit
They say the devil doesn’t knock; he walks in smiling, dressed in silk and honeyed words. Tonight, the devil wore Dickens’ face.I was still reeling from the threatening text when the doorbell rang. My heart jumped into my throat, and for a second, I thought whoever sent that message had come to finish me off. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t even breathing properly when Clara’s chair scraped back, and she rushed to open the door.And there he was.Dickens.His presence filled the doorway, tall and self-assured, with that wolfish smile that made strangers mistake him for charming. He carried a bouquet of red roses in one hand and a gift bag in the other. My mother’s eyes lit up instantly, her anger from earlier dissolving like sugar in tea.“Dickens!” she exclaimed, standing up as though royalty had entered her house. “Oh, you shouldn’t have!”He leaned in to kiss her cheek, his voice dripping with politeness. “I couldn’t come empty-handed, Mrs. Grey. You deserve the world for raising such wo
Two men. Two worlds.One, a man who could destroy me with his possessiveness, dragging me deeper into a darkness I was desperate to escape. The other, a man whose presence felt like light—capable of giving me hope, of changing my life. And yet, somehow, I knew that whichever one I chose, danger would follow.The clock struck noon, and I found myself walking into St. Louis Restaurant, my heart pounding like a trapped bird inside my chest. My palms were clammy, but the moment my eyes found him, everything else seemed to fade.Eli.He stood near the window, sunlight streaming through the glass and highlighting his sharp features. Tall, broad-shouldered, with thick dark hair brushed neatly back and eyes as blue as the ocean, he looked like someone who had stepped right out of a dream. His suit fit him perfectly, cut with the kind of elegance that whispered of wealth and power, yet his smile as he saw me softened everything.“Isabella,” he said warmly, pulling out the chair across from him
Some truths don’t need to be spoken—they’re written in silence, in stares, in the way the air stops breathing around you. I was still holding her phone. Still staring at the glowing screen. The words burned into my memory like a brand, cruel, mocking, impossible to erase: "I couldn’t resist you. I’m so sorry if I went hard. You’re sweeter than your sister. Hotter than her. How I wish I had met you first." My hands trembled. The phone felt heavier than stone, but I couldn’t let go. Then Clara stepped into the room, steam curling around her like a second skin, a towel clinging to her body, her hair damp and shining. She was humming lightly, her face glowing with careless joy. Until her eyes fell on me. And then on the phone. Her hum died. Her smile vanished. The air thickened between us. The silence screamed louder than anything we could say. I saw it all in her eyes—her guilt, her fear, her calculation. And I knew she saw everything in mine too—my devastation, my rage, the ugly
The morning light streamed weakly through my curtains, casting pale stripes across the room. I had barely managed to get any sleep. My mind had been busy turning over Clara’s cryptic remark in the car yesterday—the way she looked at Dickens in the rearview mirror, as if she knew something I didn’t.I sighed and rolled out of bed. Clara was already awake, sitting at her dresser and humming as she brushed her hair.“Good morning,” she said brightly, as if last night hadn’t happened.“Morning,” I mumbled, stretching my arms.She twisted toward me, her lips curling into that mischievous smile she always wore when she wanted something. “Hey, Isa… can I borrow your Gucci handbag today? The cream one with the gold chain?”I blinked. “Why?”“I’m going out later,” she said, smoothing her hair back. “Movie date with my man.”I raised a brow. “Movie date? You didn’t say anything about a movie date last night.”Clara rolled her eyes playfully. “I don’t have to tell you everything, big sister. Com
The moment I stepped inside the house, Clara was already waiting in the living room, her legs crossed, phone in hand, looking as if she had been expecting me. She jumped up the instant she saw the shopping bags dangling from my arms, her eyes widening with excitement.“Isabella!” she squealed, rushing over to me. “Oh my God, look at all this! He really spoiled you today, didn’t he?”I laughed softly, though it sounded more nervous than joyful. My arms ached from carrying the designer bags, but it was my heart that felt heavier. Dickens had gotten me clothes, jewelry, even a watch I knew cost more than my father’s yearly salary. Yet his words—You’re mine now—echoed louder than anything else.Clara grabbed one of the bags before I could stop her, pulling out a silk dress wrapped in tissue paper. “Wow… this is gorgeous. He bought you this?”I nodded, collapsing onto the couch. “Yes. He bought everything.”She whistled, shaking her head. “Girl, you’ve hit the jackpot. I told you, didn’t I