LOGINMaeve Sinclair learned the hard way that love can be the cruelest of prisons. After years of running from her traumatic past and the three men who never stopped loving her, she is kidnapped and wakes up tied up in a presidential suite on a luxurious cruise ship at sea. Her captors? The same ones she tried to forget: Zion Brooks — the famous singer with a seductive voice and explosive temper, who hides a dark side, part of the mafia underworld. Luka Rhodes — the brilliant music producer who hides a dangerous life in the Irish mafia alongside Declan Callahan. Elias Voss — the ex-military man and boxer, silent, lethal, and obsessively protective. Trapped together for seven nights in the middle of the Caribbean, the three are willing to do anything to break down the walls Maeve has built around her heart. They feed her, protect her, tease her… and tie her up when necessary. Because for them, Maeve had always belonged to them — from that unforgettable night on the beach, from the conception of Matthew, the eleven-year-old son she raised alone while hiding secrets capable of destroying them all. Between luxury, forbidden desire, and suffocating possessiveness, Maeve fights against her own body and against the unhealthy love she feels for them. But the more she resists, the closer the three get to truths she swore to take to the grave: the abuse from her father that still haunts her, the depression that almost destroyed her as a mother, and the paralyzing fear that her love is poison to everyone around her. On a cruise where there is no escape, Maeve discovers that the real prison was never the silk ropes… It was their love.
View MoreElara's body is still warm against mine when the sun truly begins to rise.I didn't sleep well. I spent most of the night awake, listening to her breathing, feeling every small movement, as if at any moment someone would knock on the door and try to take her away. My hand is still splayed on her stomach, fingers slightly curved, possessive even in exhaustion.She wakes slowly. First a sigh. Then her body tenses for a second, as it always does, before remembering where she is. When green eyes open and find me, there's something different there. It's not just the residual desire from the night. It's weight.— You were awake again — she murmurs.— I was.— Because of them.— Because of you.Elara looks away for a moment. I hold her chin and make her look back.— Tell me what you're thinking.She hesitates. Her throat moves as she swallows.— Yesterday, when I went with Maeve to the kitchen… she asked me if I could really imagine a life away from you. Not in a cruel way. In a… worried way
Breakfast ends in heavy silence.Maeve clears the cups with movements that are too calm. Luka remains seated, arms crossed, watching every time my hand moves toward Elara. I don't hide it. I keep my fingers on her thigh under the table, my thumb drawing slow circles over the fabric of her sweatpants. She doesn't pull away. She just clenches her jaw a little tighter.When we finally stand up, Maeve speaks without looking directly at me:— You two are staying in the living room today. No disappearing into the bedroom. No locking yourselves in. I want you in sight.I almost snap back something sharp, but I hold back. I just nod once, rigidly.I lead Elara to the large sofa in the living room. I sit first and pull her close against my side. My arm goes around her back, my hand ending on her opposite shoulder, keeping her pinned against me. She hesitates for a second, then gives in, her body settling against mine. The scent of her hair rises and calms me in a way I hate to admit.Luka sett
I wake before the sun fully pierces through the curtains.The light is still dim, grayish, the kind that doesn't warm. Elara is lying on her side, facing me, her face relaxed in deep sleep. One of my hands is splayed on her waist, fingers lightly dug into the soft flesh. The other is tucked under the pillow, too close to where I usually keep the gun when the anxiety gets too tight. The sheet is low on her waist. I can see the marks I left on her neck, her shoulder, and the curve of her breast. Yesterday I came inside her again. The smell of sex and possession still clings to both our skins.I wish I could lock the world outside and stay with just this.But the world is in the guest room.I hear movement downstairs. Light, careful steps. The sound of a cup being placed on the stone countertop. The low hiss of the coffee maker. Maeve is already awake. Probably has been for a while.Elara stirs. A small moan escapes her as her body stretches. Green eyes open slowly, still clouded with sl
The conversation ends, but its weight doesn't.Maeve stands up first. The movement is slow, controlled, as if she's holding onto something that threatens to explode. Luka follows her with his eyes before rising as well. I remain seated, Elara's hand still clasped in mine. I don't let go. Not now. Maybe never.— I want a glass of water, Maeve says, her voice lower. — And I want her to come with me to the kitchen.I open my mouth to refuse, but Elara squeezes my fingers before I can speak.— I'll go — she says, surprising all three of us. Her voice comes out hoarse but firm. — Just… one minute.I turn my face toward her. The look we exchange is charged. I don't like it. Every fiber of my body screams against the idea of letting her leave my field of vision with my mother. But there's something in the way Elara looks at me—a silent decision—that makes me slowly release her hand.— Five minutes— I warn, my voice low and hard. — After that, I'm coming after you.Maeve doesn't respond. She
The blood-red dress is spread across the bed like a declaration of war.There is no choice in the fabric that Luka deposits there with the precision of a surgeon preparing instruments. Thin crepe, a neckline that turns breathing into a spectacle, and an open back down to the base of the spine. It is
The Caribbean sun beats down on my face as we walk along the main deck. The black silk robe Zion gave me barely hides what happened in the last few hours. My wrists are still marked, red beneath the wide sleeves. Every step reminds me that I’m here against my will… and, at the same time, that I did
Zion continues sliding the cold strawberry over my nipple, circling slowly, teasing. Elias keeps two fingers pressed against my soaked entrance, opening me, but without penetrating—just feeling how wet and desperate I am.“Say it,” Elias repeats, his voice deep and relentless. “Say you want us. Or
Time inside this suite becomes something viscous and cruel.Minutes stretch like hours. I no longer know if thirty minutes or three hours have passed since the door closed with that final click. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 23:47, but the black sea beyond the panoramic windows offers n












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