LOGINI couldn’t think.
Not after that.
Not after Killian Wolfe.
I stood in front of the room mirror, makeup smudged, neck kissed raw, thighs aching with the memory of him, and my own shame. My dress was crumpled on the chair. My panties torn. And in my purse sat the engagement ring Victor had slipped onto my finger just days ago.
I stared at it like it might vanish if I blinked.
It didn’t.
And I didn’t cry.
I just breathed.
In. Out.
Ivy Lancaster. Fiancée to Victor Wolfe. Future wife to a man I barely liked, let alone loved.
And I’d just let his older brother do unspeakable things to me against a leather couch in a room I shouldn’t have entered.
What kind of woman does that?
The kind who’s drowning.
The kind who mistakes lust for escape.
The kind who doesn’t realize the devil wears her fiancé’s last name.
Killian was already gone. No words. He just left. Just a memory of heat and hunger that hadn’t faded from my skin. I should’ve been relieved. I should’ve taken the shame and shoved it down deep.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about his mouth.
His hands.
The way he looked at me like I belonged to him, before he knew I already belonged to someone else.
I took the longest shower of my life.
Still didn’t feel clean.
The engagement dinner was set for eight. I had less than an hour to put on the face of the perfect fiancée. The obedient daughter. A perfect act that Victor wouldn’t suspect a thing.
And Killian… maybe he wouldn’t say a word.
Maybe we could both pretend.
I arrived at the estate a little after seven. Had to rush back to my apartment, change into the dress I picked out a week earlier.
My mother beamed like I was walking toward a future, not a trap. My father didn’t even look up from his drink. And Victor, beautiful, boring Victor, kissed my cheek with the same cold distance he always did.
But then I saw him.
Killian.
Standing across the room, tall and unreadable in a tailored black suit. The same eyes. The same lips. The same man who’d had me screaming his name just an hour ago.
And now he stood beside his brother.
My fiancé.
His jaw tightened the second our eyes met. His gaze dropped to my neck. To the faint bruises he left behind. Then rose again with fire.
He looked angry.
Like I was the one who’d done something wrong.
I tore my eyes away.
“I’ve missed you,” Victor said, sliding an arm around my waist.
I forced a smile. “I’ve missed you too.”
Lie.
Victor was safe. Predictable. Powerful in the way all Wolfe men were. But he didn’t make my blood boil. He didn’t make me ache. He didn’t make me forget my own name.
Killian did.
Dinner was a blur.
Laughter. Wine. Empty conversation.
I barely touched my food. Killian didn’t touch his drink.
But he touched me, with his eyes. Every chance he got.
Under the table, Victor’s hand was on my thigh.
Across the table, Killian’s stare was on my lips.
It was poison.
And I drank it.
“You alright?” Victor asked, brushing his thumb across my knuckles.
I nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just tired.”
Lie number two.
I excused myself to the bathroom halfway through dessert. Needed space. Air. A minute to breathe before I drowned.
But the second I stepped into the hallway, a hand grabbed my wrist.
Pulled me.
Shoved me into a side room.
The door slammed shut behind me.
It was him.
Killian.
His face was stone. His voice a blade. “What the fuck was that?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re engaged to my fucking brother,” he growled. “And you didn’t think to mention that before I had you screaming under me an hour ago?”
“I didn’t know who you were!” I snapped. “You think I would’ve gone anywhere near you if I did?”
He stepped closer.
Too close.
“Then why didn’t you stop me?”
“I didn’t know until after,” I whispered. “Neither did you.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Charged.
“You looked me in the eye and begged me to fuck you,” he said, voice like gravel. “And I did. Hard. Deep. You let me ruin you.”
I slapped him.
He caught my wrist before I could pull away.
“You don’t get to pretend it didn’t happen.”
“I’m not pretending,” I hissed. “I’m regretting it.”
His expression darkened. “Then why do you look at me like you want me to do it again?”
My heart thundered.
My body betrayed me.
Because he was right.
Because I did.
“You’re marrying my brother,” he said lowly, voice thick with something that wasn’t anger this time.
It was hunger.
Possession.
Something dangerous.
I pulled my wrist free, breathing hard. “It was a mistake.”
“No,” he murmured, stepping even closer until my back hit the wall. “It was the beginning.”
I froze.
“What?”
He leaned in. Breath brushing my ear.
“I don’t share, Ivy. And now that I’ve had you, once isn’t fucking enough.”
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







