LOGINVictor’s arm was heavy around me, an anchor I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to. His breath was steady, calm, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me.
But I couldn’t pretend any longer. Not with the raw memory of Killian still searing in my mind, burning into my skin.
I lay still, my body betraying me, aching for something that had no place in my life. Not when I was supposed to be Victor’s.
But everything about tonight felt like a lie. From the engagement ring on my finger to the gentle press of Victor’s lips on my shoulder, nothing felt right.
And then I remembered Killian. His face. His eyes dark with desire. His mouth. God, his mouth.
I felt the heat rush through my body again, as though I could still feel the press of his lips, the fierce grip of his hands, the savage way he’d taken me.
I needed to stop thinking about him.
But the more I tried, the more my body betrayed me. The pulse between my legs throbbed, reminding me of what I’d lost control of. What I’d given control to.
Slowly, quietly, I pulled away from Victor’s embrace and slipped out of the bed. The cool air hit my bare skin as I made my way toward the bathroom, desperate to splash some water on my face, to wash away the desire that clung to me like a second skin.
I looked at myself in the mirror, my lips bruised, my neck marked with the evidence of Killian’s hunger. I wiped away the dampness on my face, but nothing felt clean. Not anymore.
I knew what I had to do. I had to act like everything was fine. I couldn’t let Victor see the wreck I had become inside. I wasn’t allowed to.
I returned to the room and climbed back into bed beside Victor, trying to hide my unease. His arm draped over me again, and I stiffened beneath the weight. His lips brushed the back of my neck, but I couldn’t push away the memories of Killian’s kiss.
“Ivy?” Victor murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
“Yeah?” I forced a smile, trying to sound convincing.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he said, his hand slipping beneath the sheets to rest on my hip. “Everything okay?”
I nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just tired. Long day.”
He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press further. His hand slid down my body, slipping between my thighs. My stomach flipped in a way I didn’t expect. This isn’t right, I thought. But it was Victor’s touch, steady and sure, nothing like the desperate, raw craving I had felt earlier.
I should’ve stopped him.
But I couldn’t.
When his fingers slid against me, I froze. The desire I felt for Killian rushed back at once, making it impossible to ignore. But I wasn’t ready. Not now. Not with Victor.
“I’m not feeling well,” I blurted, pushing his hand away gently. “Headache. Just… tired.”
Victor paused, his fingers still hovering near me, his expression unreadable. “Alright,” he muttered. “We can just sleep then.”
I nodded, forcing my body to relax as his arm wrapped around me again, pulling me close. I breathed deeply, counting each second until I could escape. I had to.
****
The house was quiet, but I wasn’t ready to face it. Not tonight.
I waited until Victor’s breathing deepened, before slipping out of bed and padding toward the door. I needed air. I needed to breathe.
The cool night air hit my skin as I stepped outside. The tension between my legs, the ache in my body, gnawed at me, but the garden was empty. Or so I thought.
There, near the stone wall, stood Killian.
I didn’t need to see him to feel the tension in the air. It hit me like a wave, making my heart race and my breath catch in my throat. I should turn away. Should go back inside. But I couldn’t.
His dark eyes found mine immediately, and I felt a pull, like gravity itself had shifted.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, but the tremor in my chest gave me away.
He didn’t answer immediately. He simply watched me with those predatory eyes, his gaze trailing over my body, lingering just a little too long on the marks he’d left on me earlier.
“Your parents asked me to stay the night,” he said, voice low, almost mocking. “They don’t want me driving back at that hour. It was late.”
I clenched my fists at my sides. “Why didn’t you say anything inside?”
Killian took a step forward, his body impossibly close, until the heat of him seemed to press against me. “I didn’t think it was necessary.”
His lips curved into a smirk, but it was his eyes, dark and filled with desire, that had me frozen in place. I tried to move back, but there was nowhere to go. The garden wall stopped me.
Killian leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, his voice a whispered threat. “I see the way you look at me, Ivy. You can lie all you want, but I know what you really want.”
“No,” I whispered, but the word didn’t have the strength I wanted it to. “You… can’t. This is wrong.”
He laughed, a low, sinful sound that made my insides tighten. “It’s too late for that, sweetheart. You can pretend all you want, but you know as well as I do that this was never about right or wrong. This is about us.”
His mouth found my neck again, his lips brushing over my skin as his hands roamed down to my waist. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. All I could feel was him, his hands on me, his lips burning every inch of me.
I didn’t fight him this time. I couldn’t.
Before I knew it, his mouth claimed mine, hot and demanding, and I was lost.
I let him kiss me, let him claim me again. His tongue slid into my mouth, deep and possessive. And when his hands slid beneath my dress, pulling it up, lifting me against him, all I could do was moan in response.
“Ivy,” he growled, his lips parting from mine, eyes dark with something savage. “You’re mine.”
“No,” I gasped, but my hands found his chest, pulling him closer, my body arching into him, betraying me.
“Yes,” he snarled. “You’ve been mine since the moment I touched you.”
And with that, he pulled me fully against him, his hands lifting my dress higher, his fingers working quickly, desperately.
And I let him. I let him make me his again.
The ocean stretched wide before them, endless and calm. Waves whispered against the shore, their rhythm slow and soothing, like a heartbeat in sync with the world. The sand beneath their feet was cool, soft, and untouched, as if the world had carved out this moment just for them.Killian held Ivy’s hand tightly. Not in the nervous, trembling way from the past, but with certainty, steady, strong, unshakable. Her fingers were warm in his, a tether to everything that had survived storms, betrayal, and heartbreak. He could feel her pulse, hear the subtle catch in her breath, and it reminded him, everything they had gone through, every shadow of danger, every tear and sleepless night, it had all been for this.The ceremony was simple. No grand hall, no flashbulbs, no endless speeches. Just the sound of the waves, the warmth of the sun dipping low toward the horizon, and the people who mattered most standing quietly around them.Ivy’s dress flowed like liquid sunlight, ivory silk brushing a
The morning light spilled softly across our bedroom, brushing against Ivy’s skin, painting her in warmth that made my chest ache in the best way. She was still half asleep, hair tangled, lips parted, breathing slow and even. I couldn’t resist.I crawled beside her, pressing my lips to hers in a gentle, lazy kiss that started slow, intimate, and somehow unspoken. Her hand found mine, fingers weaving together, and everything else fell away. The city, the past, the Wolfe chaos, it was gone. Here, now, we only had each other.One kiss led to another, and soon our slow morning unraveled into something hotter, wilder, urgent. We moved together in a rhythm we’d perfected over the years, our touches familiar yet electrifying, every gasp and moan threading us closer. The world beyond the bedroom didn’t exist; it was only us, our love, our need for one another.By the time we tumbled into the shower, water pounding over us, the heat between us only intensified. Steam curled around our bodies as
The sun hadn’t even fully risen yet, but their bedroom was already warm with the lingering heat of the night. Ivy stretched, her fingers trailing along Killian’s chest as his lips brushed over her shoulder. He groaned softly, tugging her closer, the sheets twisted around them like a cocoon of their own making.“Morning,” Ivy whispered, her voice low, rough with sleep and desire.Killian’s eyes fluttered open, hooded and lazy, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile that made her heart skip. “Morning, beautiful,” he murmured, nipping at her neck with slow, deliberate kisses that made her shiver.The hours slipped by unnoticed. Their world contracted to the heat of skin, the rhythm of whispered words and soft moans, the way their bodies knew each other after all these years, after all the chaos and heartbreak. There was no rush. No fear. Just the slow, intoxicating intimacy of two people who had fought for their right to love each other and now could exist entirely in the present.
The morning sunlight spilled across the streets of their new city, warm and unhurried, as if the world itself had slowed down just for them. Ivy stepped out of their apartment, her sketchbook tucked under her arm, and inhaled deeply. The air smelled faintly of coffee, rain soaked asphalt, and possibility. For the first time in years, she felt like she could breathe without looking over her shoulder.Her gallery was a modest space, tucked between a boutique café and a bookstore, but it was hers. Every wall, every shelf, every nook had been carefully curated to showcase her art, her soul poured onto canvases that had waited years for this moment. She ran her fingers over the polished wooden frame of the front door, smiling.“Ready?” Killian’s voice came from behind her. He leaned against the doorway, suit jacket unbuttoned, hair slightly tousled from sleep, eyes sparkling with that mix of pride and affection she still melted for.Ivy turned to him, the light catching in her hair. “Ready
The skyline stretched before them, unfamiliar yet full of promise. Lights flickered across the glass towers, and the hum of the city reached their ears, not threatening, not suffocating, but alive in a way that felt like opportunity. Killian tightened his grip on Ivy’s hand as they exited the cab. The air smelled different here, cleaner, quieter, and somehow freer.“This is it,” Killian said softly, glancing at the modest yet elegant apartment building in front of them. “Our start. No Wolfe dynasty, no Victor… just us.”Ivy’s eyes flickered over the street, the cafes lining the avenue, the people strolling by. A small smile curved her lips. “It feels unreal,” she whispered. “Like we’re finally allowed to breathe.”The elevator ride up was quiet. Both of them let the silence settle, a peaceful pause that hadn’t existed in years. When the door opened to their apartment, the sun streamed through the floor to ceiling windows, highlighting the empty space that awaited them. Every corner fe
The prison gates loomed high, the walls gray and unyielding, the scent of dust and steel filling the air. Killian sat in the car, hands resting on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the towering complex ahead. Beside him, Ivy adjusted the strap of her bag, her fingers curling nervously around it. Killy, his father, sat silent in the back, the lines on his face deepened by years of wisdom, and by knowing the magnitude of the moment that awaited them.“This is it,” Killian said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.Ivy nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “For Victor’s sake, for all the people he destroyed… he need to see the consequences of everything he did.”Killy remained stoic, as always. “And he will,” he said finally. “Trust me. Justice has a way of catching up with those who think they’re untouchable.”The car stopped outside the visitors’ entrance. Guards checked IDs, scrutinized faces, but Killian’s calm presence and the official paperwork ensured their entry was smo







