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Poor Jake...
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Love Under Fire I was there
Avery's POVThe lights of New York flickered incessantly in the dense night, like artificial stars scattered across the concrete. The air was heavy, saturated with smoke and pollution, filling my lungs with each breath as I walked through the illuminated streets, trying to make sense of what had gone wrong that night. The city felt colder and more distant than ever. Every car that passed was a cruel reminder of how quickly things changed, slipping through my fingers like fine sand."Avery, I'm sorry, but to me, you're just a good friend..."That night should have been a milestone. Deep down, I knew Jake would never be mine. He was always the kind of man who seemed unreachable, like a distant star. Still, I found myself fantasizing and wishing, if only for a second, that he would choose me. That he would look at me the same way he looked at Nancy, with that intensity and passion that consumed me with jealousy. Every word he spoke about her cut me like a sharp blade, and yet, I couldn’t
Love Under Fire He's alive
Avery YoungThe cold night continued to wrap around me as I hid in the shadows, my heart beating erratically in my chest. Every sound seemed amplified—the heavy footsteps of the surrounding men, the hum of the helicopter in the air. My lips trembled, and I struggled to stay in control. Fear spread through my body like an electric current, making it hard to breathe. The idea of doing something—anything—flashed briefly through my mind, but I hesitated.The men who had taken Jake weren’t ordinary people. They exuded violence, as if they knew they were in control. And as a woman alone, what could I do against them? The image of Jake being overpowered and of Nancy being dragged into the helicopter still pulsed in my mind. Adrenaline made my hands shake, and for a moment, I considered calling the police. "Would 911 fix this?" I thought, my fingers moving automatically toward the phone in my pocket.But I stopped. What if they found out I had made the call? What if those men knew I was here,
Love Under Fire I helped him
AveryFear gripped me as I watched Jake's chest rise and fall in that shallow, fragile rhythm. He lay on the bed, hooked up to all sorts of medical equipment that I’d smuggled from the hospital. It wasn’t difficult, not with the access I had. Being a nurse had its perks, but none of them had ever felt as desperate as this. Keeping Jake alive—keeping him hidden—had become my sole mission, the only thing I could think about day in and day out.The night they dumped him into that lake felt like a blur now, a foggy nightmare that replayed every time I closed my eyes. I still couldn’t believe he had survived. I couldn’t believe that I had pulled him from the water, that I had resuscitated him, and that he was here, in a darkened, unused room in the hospital, teetering on the edge of life.Jake had been in a coma for weeks. Each day that passed without him waking up chipped away at my hope, like water eroding stone. I had begun to wonder if he would ever wake up. And yet, no matter how hope
Love Under Fire I have to find her
AveryWhen Jake finally opened his eyes, it was as if the weight of the world had fallen on his shoulders again. His expression, as he regained consciousness, said it all. There was no joy in being alive, no sense of relief at having escaped death. On the contrary, it seemed like his soul was in pieces, shattered by what had happened.I watched him in silence for long minutes as he looked around, trying to understand where he was and what had happened. He didn’t ask anything right away, but his eyes searched for answers, and I knew that soon enough, he would face the harsh reality.“You’re safe, Jake,” I said softly, my voice barely a whisper. I didn’t want to scare him, not at that fragile moment. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, as if trying to absorb everything. He didn’t respond, just letting the silence between us grow.For weeks, Jake had been there, in that makeshift bed, unconscious. I didn’t know if he would survive, but I refused to give up. I couldn’t let
Love Under Fire My fake family
Months laterAmberI've never been a big fan of Christmas. Those cheesy songs, little lights flashing everywhere, and that air of "forced joy" always irritated me deeply. And of course, after everything that's happened in the last few months, my contempt has only increased. Kris was dead. My father... well, I still couldn't even think about him without feeling a shiver of disgust.But there I was, months later, returning to Denver, where the snow insisted on covering everything with a cold, white layer. I spent days trying to pretend my life was normal — posting happy photos on social media, buying new clothes, and publishing as if nothing had happened. But inside, I was devastated. Guilt followed me like a shadow, and the antidepressant was the only thing that allowed me to put one foot in front of the other.I couldn't run away forever. It was Christmas, and, as always, I had to make my grand appearance at my parents' house. Even though every fiber of my being wanted to stay in New
Love Under Fire It's not okay
AmberI knew from the moment I walked into that house that things would never be the same. The mansion had always seemed so imposing, but now, every detail of the marble walls and crystal chandeliers felt like an extra weight on my shoulders. The soft rug I had always loved, so pure white it seemed untouched, reminded me that there was nothing pure about me. The endless corridors, decorated with works of art that I had personally chosen, no longer brought the same comfort. It was as if the house, so perfect on the outside, reflected my life—a shining void.My mother was there, sitting on the sofa in the main room, when I entered. Her body was there, but her soul, her affection, had abandoned me. She glanced at me, quick enough to let me know she'd seen me, but without giving me the slightest bit of notice. As if I were a painting that she was already tired of looking at. The silence between us was suffocating, heavier than the cold December air that invaded through the huge windows. S
Love Under Fire The Soap opera
Glory Over the past few months, my life has turned into a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from. The Morton house, which once seemed a symbol of power and wealth, was now just a theater of pain and despair, where the farce of happiness and stability played out before everyone. The "soap opera" of the three lovers, as I called it in my mind, was increasingly unbearable. And I, trapped in that plot, could barely breathe. Charles, the man I had married out of pure interest, continued to treat me with contempt, as if I were nothing more than his possession, something he used at his convenience. I remember how it all started. My choice to marry Charles, a powerful and influential man, had been driven purely by greed. The glare of money, status, and power – it all clouded my vision. But now, as time passed, I deeply regretted every decision I had made. Not a day went by without me wondering what would have happened if I had chosen Harald, the only man I ever truly loved. However, I left H
Love Under Fire It's time to take action
GloryI continued to notice Candace and Harald, who seemed closer than ever, and this closeness did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room, especially me. I felt a slight nausea at the way they leaned into each other, almost as if the rest of the room had disappeared. It was painful to watch. But what bothered me most was my inability to react. All I wanted to do was scream, get up from that table, and confront them. However, I knew it wouldn't change anything. What would I do? Would I reveal our secret to everyone? The consequences would be catastrophic for all of us, including me.As the food was served, I tried to focus on what was on my plate, but my appetite was nil. Candace's perfume reached me, mixed with the aroma of roast turkey, and her shrill laughter echoed in my ears like sonic torture. With each laugh, it seemed like she was reinforcing her victory—the fact that Harald now belonged to her, not me. How did I let this happen? When did I lose control of the situation?Haral
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