LOGINIris’s POVI knelt beside Adrian and pressed my hands against the wound. Blood seeped through my fingers. He looked up at me, his eyes glassy and unfocused."I am sorry," he whispered. "I never meant for it to end this way.""Stay with me.""I wanted to hurt him. But I ended up hurting you instead." He coughed, blood flecking his lips. "Tell the children I am sorry. They did not deserve any of this.""The ambulance is coming. Just hold on.""I do not think I can.""Yes, you can. You have to."He smiled, a sad, broken smile. "You always were the stubborn one."I pressed harder against the wound, but it was not enough. I could see it in his eyes. The light was fading."Iris," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You asked me once why I disappeared. I was going to ask you to marry me. I had a ring and everything. But then my father died and I lost everything. I was too ashamed to come back. I was too broken.""Why are you telling me this now?""Because I wanted you to know that I
Iris's POVOne afternoon, I got a call from the school that Ava and Noah were gone. A man claiming to be their grandfather had picked them up. He knew their names, their teachers, their schedules. The secretary apologized through tears, saying she had no reason to doubt him. He looked like a grandfather. He acted like a grandfather. He said all the right things.I called Victor. He answered on the first ringa"I did not take them. I swear to you.""I know." My voice was steady, calmer than I felt. "It was Adrian."I called Marcus next. He was in a meeting, but he left immediately when I told him. Rachel was with him and she insisted on coming.We met at my apartment. Marcus paced the living room while I sat on the couch, my phone in my hand, waiting for a call that might never come. Rachel made tea that no one drank. Victor arrived twenty minutes later, his face pale and his hands trembling."I have people looking," he said. "Every contact I have. We will find them.""You should not b
Marcus's POVThe wedding invitations arrived on a Tuesday afternoon, and Rachel screamed when she opened the box."Marcus! They're perfect!" She held up one of the cards, her eyes bright with excitement. The invitations were simple and elegant, cream-colored paper with gold lettering and a small embossed design of two interlocking rings. "Look at the calligraphy. It's exactly what I wanted."I walked over and wrapped my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder. "They look beautiful. You have good taste.""We have good taste," she corrected, turning her head to kiss my cheek. "You picked the venue.""I picked the venue because you fell in love with it.""Same thing."We spent the next hour addressing envelopes. Rachel had a system, a spreadsheet with every guest's name and address carefully organized, and she worked through it with the precision of a project manager. I sat beside her and folded invitations and licked envelopes and tried not to think about the last t
The message from Briggs came through just as I was settling into the couch with a cup of tea and the latest draft of my manuscript. I traced the number on the burner phone. The location is a hotel downtown and I'm sending you the address now. Do you want me to check it out first? I stared at the screen for a long moment. The tea went cold in my hands. The manuscript sat forgotten on my lap. I thought about the messages. You destroyed my life. I am going to make sure you lose everything. I thought about who could be sending them and why. I thought about Adrian, who had been watching me for months, waiting for the right moment to strike. I typed back: I will go. Send the address. Briggs replied immediately: That is not a good idea. Let me handle it. I need to do this myself. He did not argue after that. He just sent the address and told me to call him if anything went wrong. I got up from the couch and walked to my bedroom. I changed out of my pajamas and into jeans and a
Iris's POVThe email from my editor arrived at 6:47 in the morning, and I read it three times before I let myself believe it was real.We want to publish. The manuscript is brilliant. Can you come in today to discuss the contract?I sat on the edge of my bed with my phone clutched in my hands, the words blurring together as tears filled my eyes. I started writing that book six months ago, in the quiet hours after the twins went to bed and the apartment settled into silence. I wrote it for myself, mostly. A way to process everything that happened. A way to make sense of a life I could not remember.Now it was going to be published.The twins were still asleep, curled together in Ava's bed the way they always ended up by morning, and I did not have the heart to wake them. I tiptoed to the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee, then sat at the table and read the email again while the sun came up. The words did not change. They still said the same thing. We want to publish.I thought ab
Marcus's POVThe morning started with Rachel burning the toast, and I loved her for it.I sat at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in my hands and watched her scrape the blackened edges into the sink with a knife. She was wearing one of my old shirts, the blue one with the frayed collar that she claimed was the most comfortable thing in the house, and her hair was still damp from the shower. She was muttering something under her breath about unreliable appliances and the perils of trying to do too many things at once, and I found myself smiling."I can make more," I offered.She turned to look at me, her expression softening when she saw my face. "No. You sit. I will fix this."I stayed where I was and watched her move around the kitchen with the easy familiarity of someone who had been doing this for years. Three years together, and I still found myself surprised by how natural it felt to have her here. She fit into my life in a way that felt effortless, not because she tried t
Iris's POVIt's finally the dreaded Friday. I was standing in front of my closet, staring at the armor I'd carefully selected: high-necked black blouse, long sleeves, trousers that buttoned at the waist instead of anything that flowed or teased, when my phone buzzed on the dresser.A text from Marc
Iris’s POV I woke up with a jolt. The dream had been hazy but vivid enough to leave me throbbing. There were dark eyes watching me, a low magnetic voice murmuring praise against my throat and strong hands sliding up my thighs with slow deliberate purpose. I had arched into the touch in the dream d
Iris’s POV The drive home felt longer than it should have. Marcus had the radio tuned to that low jazz station he likes, humming off-key while he scrolled emails at red lights. I stared out the passenger window, watching streetlights smear past, but my brain was still stuck on the terrace. I cou
Iris’s POV I should have known from the day I met my fiancé’s father that I would end up sleeping with him. The attraction was so fierce and it was obvious it went both ways. I didn’t go out of my way to seek him out and I even avoided him, but there was no escaping this. I write romance for







