ログインDevon's POVI had expected Elena's apartment to be nice.I hadn't expected it to be... Elena.She unlocked the front door with practiced efficiency before stepping aside to let me in.The first time I'd come here had been for our date, but I'd only waited outside while she grabbed her purse. This was the first time I'd actually crossed the threshold.The apartment was spotless.Not the kind of spotless that came from a cleaner visiting every week. The kind that came from someone who put everything exactly where it belonged and never left it anywhere else.White walls.Dark hardwood floors.A charcoal-gray couch that looked like it had never known the existence of a wrinkle.There were only two framed paintings hanging on the walls. Both were clean, geometric landscapes in muted colors. Beautiful, but practical.No colorful decorations.No random souvenirs.No stacks of magazines.Nothing unnecessary.It suited her perfectly.Business first.Everything else later."You can sit," Elena
Laura's POVThe trip back home had been surprisingly quick.Maybe it was because my head still wasn't completely right after everything that had happened at my father's estate. Or maybe it was because I knew what was waiting for me the moment we got back to the city.Work.Lots and lots of work.Quinn had practically forbidden me from throwing myself back into my schedule immediately. For the first three days after we returned, he insisted I rest, eat properly, take my medication, and avoid anything remotely stressful."You have to take things slow" he had muttered more than once whenever he caught me reaching for my laptop.As much as I appreciated the concern, staying in bed all day was torture.I wasn't built for doing absolutely nothing.Eventually, after a few days of rest and countless lectures from Quinn, I felt normal enough to ease back into a regular routine.Which was exactly how I found myself seated inside one of titan's media conference rooms a week later with star shot
Laura’s POVWhen I woke up, the ceiling was spinning.Not metaphorically. Not in the poetic, dramatic way people described when they were dizzy.Actually spinning.I blinked several times, hoping my vision would settle, but that only seemed to make things worse. The ceiling swayed above me, the edges of the room blurring into one another until I had to squeeze my eyes shut.My head hurt.God, my head hurt.What happened?I slowly opened my eyes again and immediately regretted it.The guest room.My father’s estate.I pushed myself upright, only for the entire room to tilt violently to the left.“Whoa.”I grabbed the edge of the mattress before I could fall over.Why was I still here?I remembered the wedding. The reception. My father laughing at that disgusting comment about my weight. I remembered walking away from him, my head pounding, my body feeling strange.Then nothing.I swallowed.I was supposed to be leaving.Quinn and I were supposed to leave last night.I tried standing.B
Laura's POVI hadn't spoken to my father all day.I didn't intend to.As far as I was concerned, the sooner this wedding was over, the sooner I could get back to my real life. My lawyers could handle every ridiculous demand he planned to make. If he truly believed he was entitled to my earnings, he could argue that in court instead of pretending to be a loving father.That bridge had burned years ago.Today's ceremony wasn't going to rebuild it.The wedding was exactly what I expected.Grand.Extravagant.Every corner of the estate overflowed with white flowers, glittering chandeliers, and decorations expensive enough to buy a small house. Famous producers, actors, politicians, musicians, and business executives filled nearly every seat. Cameras flashed every few seconds, capturing smiles that felt rehearsed and laughter that sounded just a little too polished.Everything sparkled.Everything looked perfect.Everything felt fake.As I watched my father stand at the altar beside Eliza,
Quinn’s POVI chased after Laura until we reached the guest room, and the second she stepped inside, she spun around and slammed the door. I pushed it shut behind us and locked it, needing a moment where there were no distractions, no George, no Eliza, no damn garden, just the two of us. Laura turned away from me immediately, her shoulders stiff and her arms folded tightly across her chest.“Laura, listen. I don't know what you're thinking, but nothing happened,” I said, stepping toward her.“I don't know what to say to you, Quinn,” she muttered, refusing to look at me.I reached for her and pulled her closer.“Laura.”She immediately tried to pull herself free, and I held on for a second longer than I should have.“You're hurting me,” she said.I released her instantly.The guilt hit me hard.“I'm sorry,” I said quietly. “I didn't mean to.”She walked toward the bed and sat down, crossing her arms again as she stared at the floor. I remained standing for a moment, trying to figure ou
Quinn’s POVI had never seen Laura this upset.She had gotten pissed at me more than once since we had met. I had seen her angry, frustrated, annoyed, and even downright furious, but this was different. This wasn't the sharp irritation she usually threw at me before eventually cooling down. This was something deeper, something that had settled beneath her skin and made her entire body seem tense.I had already known she didn't have a good relationship with her father. The first time I met George, I could practically feel the resentment radiating from Laura whenever he spoke. But tonight, it was as if he had deliberately picked at every wound he knew she had.And I couldn't understand why.I walked back into the dining room and pulled out my chair, dropping into it heavily. Eliza was still seated beside George, looking considerably more uncomfortable than she had earlier.“Did you try to calm her down?” George asked, reaching for his glass as though we hadn't just watched his daughter
LauraThe second I stepped onto the set of The Last Ember, every single person turned to look at me.My stomach immediately tightened.The massive soundstage buzzed with controlled chaos. Crew members rushed around carrying lighting equipment. Makeup artists stood near the trailers holding coffee c
Laura Seven months.Seven months of sweating out my old life in Quinn’s private gym. Seven months of speech therapy to find the voice Hemsworth had spent years trying to silence. Seven months of learning the dark, jagged secrets of the entertainment industry from the man who sat at the very top of
LauraThe first thing I felt was the scent. It didn't smell like the sterile, bleach-heavy air of a hospital. It smelled like expensive oud, aged whiskey, and something dangerously masculine.I blinked my eyes open. The ceiling was charcoal grey, accented with soft, recessed LED lighting."You're a
Hold still, Laura. You’re wrinkling the lapel."Hemsworth slapped my hand away from his chest. His touch, which used to send butterflies erupting in my stomach, now just left a stinging coldness."Sorry," I mumbled, stepping back.He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror of our penthouse, a






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