เข้าสู่ระบบKEITH KING'S POVThe studio is dead silent, save for the rhythmic, grinding rasp of my chisel against marble.Scratch. Pause.Scratch.I tilt my head, the midday sunlight streaming through the massive glass windows and catching the dust motes dancing around my creation. The room is crowded with shapes—abstract figures, half-formed limbs, forgotten projects—but none of them matter.Only this one.I step closer, my fingertips lightly brushing a layer of white powder from the statue’s sharp jawline. A faint smile slips onto my face.Beautiful. Not perfect yet, but close. So close.My eyes trace the features I have memorized down to the millimeter. The strong jaw, the piercing, aristocratic structure, the subtle, deceptive dimples. It is the face of a man who looks entirely untouchable.Ivan Romanov.Most artists spend a lifetime hunting for a muse. I found mine when I was just a child. My angel. My purpose. The only person in the world who ever looked at me and didn't see a problem waiti
The judge’s final words didn't register. They didn't need to. They were just the predictable, bureaucratic period at the end of a sentence I had spent six months writing.Across the aisle, the opposing counsel looked like a man who had survived a car crash only to realize his insurance had lapsed. His client had the dazed, hyperventilating expression of the newly pardoned. I didn't smile. I didn't congratulate myself. I simply closed my manila folder with a single, sharp motion.Another victory. Another fire extinguished. Another afternoon spent scrubbing the blood and stupidity off someone else’s hands."Congratulations, Mr. Romanov."A junior associate offered me a nervous, desperate-to-impress smile as he held open the heavy wooden door. I didn't slow down. I gave him a microscopic nod, just enough to acknowledge he was taking up physical space, and stepped out into the echoing marble corridor.The elevator doors hadn't even finished closing before the phone in my breast pocket beg
Dmitri Romanov's PovI stand outside the door of the mental asylum, my heart racing with anxiety. It's been six months since Spencer's accident, and he's been undergoing therapy here to try and recover from the trauma.But it's not easy. Spencer's memories are fragmented, and he's unable to recognize me. The doctors say it's because of the severity of the trauma, and that it may take time for him to recover.I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I've been trying my best to avoid coming face-to-face with Spencer, as it's triggered his trauma several times in the past. But I need to see him, to know that he's okay.I glance at my watch, seeing that it's late at night. Spencer will be asleep by now, and I can visit him without triggering another episode.I push open the door, slipping inside quietly. The room is dimly lit, with only a faint glow from the nightlight. I can see Spencer's form on the bed, his chest rising and falling with each breath.I approach the bed slowly, m
DMITRI Romanov's PovI paced back and forth in the hospital room, my mind racing with worry. Spencer was lying in the bed, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with each breath. The doctor had just left, and his words kept echoing in my mind. "This trauma can affect his mind, Mr. Dmitri. We don't know what will happen when he wakes up. He may lose his memory, or...or he may regress to a childlike mental state." I felt like I was losing my senses. Spencer had a history of PTSD, and this latest trauma could push him over the edge. I couldn't bear the thought of losing him, of not being able to help him.I stopped pacing and sat down beside Spencer's bed, taking his hand in mine. His fingers were limp, but I held on to them tightly, as if I could will him back to health."Spencer, please," I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion. "Please come back to me. I need you. I love you."I sat there for hours, holding Spencer's hand, talking to him, willing him to wake up. But he
Dmitri Romanov's PovI sat behind my desk, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. Everything was finally sorted out, and the Romanov empire was at peace once again. The traitors had been caught, the leaks had been plugged, and our family's reputation was intact.I leaned back in my chair, steepling my fingers together as I gazed out the window. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly in the sky. Just as I was starting to relax, my assistant, Alexei, burst into my office, his face etched with worry."Dmitri, I'm sorry to disturb you," he said, his voice tight with anxiety. I raised an eyebrow, my instincts on high alert. "What is it, Alexei?" I asked, my voice firm. Alex, my brother, who was sitting in the corner of my office, looked up from his phone and said, "Uh-oh, Alexei's here with bad news again."Alexei ignored Alex's comment and continued, "It's Ryan and Spencer, sir. They're missing." My heart skipped a beat as I sat up straight, my eyes locked on Alexei's face.
Spencer Hayes's POVI stood frozen in shock as the kidnapper revealed himself to be none other than my father, Arthur Hayes, the King of Atlanska.His face was twisted in a scowl, his eyes blazing with fury."So, you're the one who's been behind all this," I spat, trying to keep my voice steady. My father took a step closer to me, his voice dripping with venom. "You're the one who's been causing all the trouble, Spencer. Your careless lifestyle has damaged our family's reputation beyond repair. You're a disappointment to me, to our family, and to our kingdom."I felt a surge of anger and resentment towards my father. "You kicked me out of the family," I reminded him, my voice shaking with emotion. "You disowned me, and now you're complaining about my lifestyle?" My father's expression didn't change, but his voice took on a slightly softer tone. "You still have my blood in you, Spencer. The royal blood of the Hayes. You have a duty to uphold our family's honor and reputation."I la
SPENCER HAYES'S POVAnnika's eyes sparkle with excitement as she bounces up and down in my chair. "Oh my god, Spencer, I have the most amazing news!" She squeals, hardly able to contain herself.I raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. "What is it?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.Annika ta
SPENCER HAYES'S POVI wake up to an empty bed, wondering where Dmitri went.I look at the time; it's 10 in the morning.He must be at his office by now.I am also late; I should get ready to go to my workplace.I have a huge event coming up.I walk into the kitchen, expecting to find it empty, but
SPENCER HAYES'S POVI'm trapped in a never-ending nightmare. I'm being beaten and battered, my body screaming in agony. I try to defend myself, but my arms are weak and useless.The voices are loud and cruel, echoing in my mind. "You don't deserve the title, you fag!" they scream. I feel a wave of
SPENCER HAYES'S POVI stepped out of the car onto the sidewalk, Dmitri's hand still securely clasped around mine. We had just left a fabulous party thrown by one of Dmitri's associates. I really had no choice but to attend as his date, and honestly, the whole experience left me feeling uneasy and t







