MasukEva’s POVMicah’s grip never leaves the small of my back as we walk into the event hall—after a few minutes of interrogation by reporters who don’t get any reply from us.“You good?” He murmurs in my ear for the fourth time tonight.And like always, I nod. “Yes. I’m good.”When a server passes with a tray of champagne in a tall glass, Micah snags one for each of us, and I use the opportunity to keep my eyes open for…you-know-who.Somehow, it got to our ears that he wasn’t attending. And god, I hope it stays that way.There’s soft music sifting through the speakers, the scent of expensive perfumes and Christ, so many sequins…diamonds.I’ve been to things like this but I never get over how much wealth every individual at these functions ooze. “At any moment you feel uncomfortable, tell me and we’ll be out of here immediately,” Micah repeats his mantra to me.I snort, smiling up at him. “I heard you the first ten thousand times.”“Just a friendly reminder, love. Also know that it wouldn
Eva’s POV“Micah?” My frown deepens.He smiles softly. “Relax. I don’t bite.”With that, he walks ahead into his large walk in closet. I don’t follow. Instead, I stay put in the large bedroom, afraid to even sit on the bed or the chair at the dresser.He returns shortly with three garment bags, and he places them on his bed. “Take a look.”“What?”“They’re for you.”My gaze drifts to the bags, and back to Micah over and over until I take a tentative step forward and pull down the zip.Blue. That’s the first thing I see. After a few seconds of digging around, I’m able to pull out the dinner dress. A long blue silk dress, and god, it’s so soft.“Wow,” I blurt, eyes wide. “A dress.”He snorts. “Yes, a dress. Open the rest.”“Don’t tell me you bought me three dresses, Micah.”He doesn’t reply. When I open the next two, I’m met with different designs and different colours of outfits for me. Both dresses.Gold and black.I blink at the dresses on the bed, my perfect sizes, and beautiful p
Eva’s POVIt’s dark out by the time I wake up from my nap.“Shoot!” I jerk up. “I promised to be down for dinner.”Willing my ankles, they feel a bit better. Still sore, but not too much. I shrug out of Stefan’s shirt, replacing it with one of Micah’s.Why? I can’t really say.“…Thursday is fine—”“What’s happening on Thursday?” I ask, interrupting the conversation between Darryl and Micah.Their heads shoot up at my voice, and Micah immediately walks over to me. “Darryl is leaving on Thursday.” His eyes rake down my body, taking note of the shirt. “You look good.” My smile is bashful, almost shy. “Well, you asked me to wear yours.”“And I’m ecstatic that you did.” He leads me to the dining table, pulling out a seat for me.“Thank you. Hi, Darryl.”“Hey, Micah’s wife.”I snort. “Just Eva is fine.”“I know.” He winks, and I laugh.“Are you hungry? Would you eat the left overs I heated up? Or would you like me to order something for you.”I’d kill for some Chinese but... “The left ove
Micah’s POV“You’re not gonna tell me this one thing?” Eva asks. “Is it that personal?”Yes. Quite.But I don’t tell her that. How am I supposed to tell her that I learned every medical hack because of my mom?All the injuries my mom got when she was high, I was the one left to clean them up. The first months were bad, god, I thought she’d die.So many times I had to force my fingers down her throat when she overdosed….“Not really,” I lie. “Used to be a little clumsy back then so I injured myself a lot.”Her eyes narrow. “Oh…I can’t picture you clumsy.”“Because I’m not anymore. I was young, and thought I had nine lives.”A smile stretches across her lips, eyes lighting up.It’s laughable really. I’ve never been clumsy. I’ve always been composed, organized, and never out of place.She’s right. Even I, can’t picture myself being clumsy. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up too fast.It takes a moment to realise I’m not icing her ankle again. “Still hurting?” I ask, skimming t
Eva’s POVOwen pulls out of the parking lot.“Have you been living under a rock?” Micah frowns. “It’s been all over the internet.”“Forgive me for not spending my whole time doomscrolling, man. I’ve got a wedding to plan, and a perfectionist wife.”Darryl glances at me again, his brows furrowed. Like he’s trying to process what exactly is happening. I don’t blame him, but I feel self-conscious about it.I twiddle my fingers. “It’s...uh…lovely to meet you, Darryl.”“Likewise.” He nods. “I’m sorry if I’m being weird, I’m just trying to process all of this.”“What’s there to process?” Micah asks.“Bro, why the fuck are you married to Stefan’s wife? How did that even happen? Why didn’t you tell me? Does Kill know?”“Kill?”“Killian,” Micah informs. “One of our other friends.”“Oh.”“By the way, I don’t know if Killian knows. I haven’t specifically told him,” Micah replies.Darryl stares at me again then Micah. Heat creeps up my cheeks and I wish the group could somehow open up and swallow
Eva’s POVHe doesn’t respond to that, and somehow that hurts even more. I scoff, shaking my head when I meet Owen’s gaze through the rear mirror.A notification dings from my phone, and without looking, I know who it is. Stefan.Since the photos of Micah and I came out, alongside the little interview we did, he’s been bombarding my phone with calls, texts.For once in my life, I made a decision for myself. I muted his sorry ass. I know I should block him, to hell with him and all that, but…I’m not ready to entirely shut that chapter.Deep down, I’m hoping for a change of heart. I’m hoping that Stefan isn’t all bad. I mean, if he’s calling and texting—no matter how rude and insensitive he’s being—it should mean something, right?Even I know the answer to that... It doesn’t mean anything good. It doesn’t mean he’s changed, he’s only become more obsessive because I’m with Micah—his rival and the man he hates so much.Another ding.“Aren’t you going to look at that?” Micah asks.I scof







