Longing Beneath Blossoms

The moment Wyatt lifted his gaze, Rhea saw a depthless darkness in his eyes.Perhaps it was because he had always been someone in power. Even after being caught like this, there was not the slightest ripple in his expression.He calmly slid the photograph beneath the pillow. His long fingers moved unhurriedly as he adjusted the zipper.In just a few seconds, he had returned to that ascetic, distant composure, as if the man who had lost control moments ago had been nothing more than an illusion.Rhea could not help letting out a faint, cold laugh. "Putting it away before you are finished. Aren’t you afraid of holding it in? Want me to help you?"Wyatt’s expression did not change. He leaned back slightly, widening the distance between them. "Miss Vaughn, did you need something?"He was always like this. He could be stirred beyond restraint by Vera’s photograph, yet when facing her, he looked like a monk untouched by desire.Rhea’s nails dug into her palm as she recalled Vera’s pla

The club lights blurred into a haze as Rhea tipped back her head and downed her third glass of whiskey.The alcohol scorched her throat, yet it could not extinguish the resentment burning in her chest.At the center of the dance floor, she moved in slender heels, her red dress flaring with every turn. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Wyatt standing beside a private booth.He was supposed to be her bodyguard. Instead, he stayed glued to Vera’s side.She leaned in close, whispering something near his ear. Her lips nearly brushed his earlobe, and Wyatt, who was always ice-cold with Rhea, showed a faint flush at the tips of his ears.Rhea let out a quiet, mocking laugh. As she turned away, a group of spoiled rich boys closed in around her."Care to drink with us, Miss Vaughn?""Let’s exchange contacts.""I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time. Seeing you in person… your face really lives up to the rumors."They crowded her into a corner until she could not move.

Three days later, Rhea went alone to try on wedding dresses.Night had already fallen when she stepped out of the boutique. Someone suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth and nose from behind.A sharp, chemical stench flooded her senses. She struggled, then her vision went dark.When she woke again, everything was black. Her eyes were covered, and her wrists were bound to a chair, leaving her completely unable to move.Crack.The first lash sent her arching forward in agony.The rough rope bit deep into her wrists, and the blindfold thickened the darkness. She bit through her lip to swallow the scream clawing up her throat."You offended someone you should not have," the executioner’s voice sounded distant and hollow.Crack. Crack. Crack.The whip fell like rain. Each strike tore through the air, splitting skin and flesh.She clenched her teeth, refusing to cry out.Who? Who would do this to her?The beating went on for a long time. It only stopped once her consciousness be

Evan tried to stop him. "Master Wren, if the old man finds out, he’ll lose his temper—""Ink it."With that instruction, the tattoo needle buzzed, each strike feeling like it was carving a bloody hole straight into Rhea’s heart.Two hours later, Wyatt came out clutching his chest, blood seeping through the bandage. His face was pale, yet he still insisted on getting into the car."Moonwatch Cliff," he told the driver."No. That place is too dangerous. You just got a tattoo—""Now."Rhea sat in her car and suddenly remembered Vera’s list of standards."He has to tattoo my name over his heart. There’s a briar rose bush on Moonwatch Cliff. He has to pick a stalk for me."She laughed. She chuckled until tears spilled down her face."Let’s go," she told Thomas. "Stop following them."That night, she scrolled through Vera’s social feed.A photo of a briar rose blooming on the edge of a cliff.The caption read: "Someone crossed mountains and ravines just to pick a single flower f

Wyatt stood in front of the Vaughn estate’s wrought-iron gate, a bag of freshly baked cinnamon doughnuts hanging from his hand. The paper had gone soft from the heat, the sweet, spicy scent lingering in the air.He lifted a hand and pressed it to his chest. Vera’s name was inked there, the skin still tender, the needle marks not yet healed.Stranger still, his heart was racing wildly inside his chest, as if something were tearing at his nerves, leaving him unable to calm down.He frowned, attributing the unease to the anticipation of seeing Vera.When he pushed the door open, Victor stood in the middle of the living room, his face tense as he tried to reason with someone. Vera stood with her back to him, shoulders trembling, her voice sharp with anger."10 billion? Dad, have you lost your mind?"Victor lowered his voice. "As long as the mountain stands, there will always be firewood. Be good. I have no choice. I can’t go back on my word with the Ashfords. One daughter has to marr