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You shouldn’t be here
publish date:
2026-11-01 15:40:47
Latest chapter
His Beautiful Deception Nothing
Arielle's POV "It was nothing." I said it three times. The first time on the cold pavement of the alley, with Alexander's hands still clamped around my shoulders. The second in the back of his car, wrapped in Pryce's jacket, with the heater blasting and the city sliding past the windows in long streaks of gold. The third time in the lobby of my own building, under the flat white light of the elevator, with a man on either side of me and my heart still trying to break out of my ribs. Each time it sounded less true. "You ran into an alley," Alexander said. "Alone." "I heard something." "What?" "A noise. I thought someone was behind the curtain." "Did you find anyone?" "No. I mean... a waiter. A caterer. A man carrying plates." I laughed. It came out thin. "I got confused. It was so quiet in there. And I'd had a glass of wine." "Arielle." "I'm sorry. I frightened you. I didn't mean to." He looked at me. He stood in the middle of my small living room, in his blac
His Beautiful Deception You shouldn’t be here
Arielle's POV The Harbor Museum had been built to look like a wave frozen in the act of breaking. It rose from the waterfront in sweeping curves of white concrete and blue glass, lit from below so that the whole building glowed against the night like something summoned out of the sea. On the steps, a red carpet ran down to the curb. Photographers stood behind velvet ropes, their flashes popping like fireworks, calling out names I did not recognize and a few that I did. "You're gripping my arm," Alexander murmured. "I'm not." "You're cutting off the circulation." "You're very solid. It's a natural reaction." His mouth twitched. He didn't look at me. He kept his eyes on the crowd and his shoulders squared, escorting me up the steps as though we were walking into a courtroom instead of the city's most glamorous charity auction. Behind us, at a discreet distance, a broad-shouldered man in a dark suit followed in silence. Pryce. He had been my shadow for six days. I had g
His Beautiful Deception Protective
Alexander's POV "Someone has been in your building." It was seven in the morning. I stood in the underground garage of Arielle's apartment block, in the dim yellow light, next to my car. She had just stepped out of the stairwell, her bag over one shoulder, her hair pulled back. She stopped short when she saw me. "Alexander?" "Get in." "What are you doing here?" "I said, get in." "It's seven o'clock." "It's important." "Is it about the fire?" "Half of it." She hesitated. Then she came around the car, and I opened the passenger door for her, and she slid inside with a small, questioning look. I closed it. I walked around and got behind the wheel. The garage was silent. Far away, a pipe dripped. "You're frightening me," she said. "Look." I paused "Why are you frightening me?" "Because I need you to listen." I turned in my seat. In the dim light her face was pale and drawn, and there were shadows beneath her eyes deeper than any I had seen. She had not s
His Beautiful Deception Dead end
Arielle's POV I did not sleep. I lay in my narrow bed with the phone under my pillow like a stone, and every time I closed my eyes I saw the same five words glowing in the dark. A friend of your father's. By dawn I had built and demolished a dozen theories. A prank. A trap. A tormentor who had studied my life. A well-meaning lunatic.. The last one made me laugh, alone in the gray light, a short, ugly sound. By seven I was dressed. By eight I was sitting in my car outside an unremarkable brick apartment building on the east side, with a bag of pastries on the passenger seat and a very good reason to be nervous. Ivy Marsh opened the door in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt that said I SURVIVED THE INSPECTION. Her hair was in a messy knot. There was a smear of toothpaste on her chin. "You," she said. "Me." "It's eight in the morning." "I brought croissants." She looked at the bag. She looked at me. Something complicated moved across her face. "Come in," she said. "But
His Beautiful Deception A message
Arielle's POV It came at eleven-forty that night, when I was standing in the kitchen of my apartment in my socks, pouring milk over a bowl of cereal I did not want. We had driven back through the dark in near silence. Alexander had driven, one hand on the wheel and the other clenched against his knee, his jaw set like granite. I had sat beside him and watched the black road unspool in the headlights. Neither of us had spoken. There was nothing to say. There was only the low, steady drone of the engine and the small, unspoken understanding that whatever had been building between us had been put on hold. At the site, the fire had been contained. Two storage sheds had burned to the ground. A pile of lumber. A rack of power tools. Nothing structural. Marcus had stood in the smoking ruin with his face gray and his hands blackened, telling the police, again and again, that he had locked the gates himself. "Somebody had a key," he said. Alexander had said nothing. He had walke
His Beautiful Deception Almost
Arielle's POV I woke at dawn with his jacket still around my shoulders. For a moment I did not know where I was. The room was gray and quiet, hung with the pale light that comes before sunrise, and there was a warm weight on the pillow beside me. I turned my head. It was only the jacket. I had taken it off in the night and laid it there, and it lay across the white linen like a sleeping man. I picked it up. It smelled of cedar and rain. I sat on the edge of the bed, holding it against my chest, and let the whole of the night come back. The balcony. The wind. His voice, level and terrible, telling me about a phone call and a screech of brakes. He said, It's about Harcourt. And then his arms, warm and steady, and the long, slow kiss that had felt like a promise. Not tonight. Because when it happens, I want it to be honest. I put my face into the jacket. I had cried for his father. God help me, I had cried, standing in the dark on that terrace, wrapped in the coat of a
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