Se connecterElise’s POVThe pasta bowls sat empty between us, but neither of us moved to clear them.The silence wasn’t empty anymore. It was thick with everything we hadn’t said yet...about the photo, about the threat, and about the fact that in three days we would stand in front of a clerk and sign papers that would bind us in the eyes of the law, even if the truth between us was still a tangle of half-formed trust and unspoken want.Ravien’s phone vibrated again in his pocket. He ignored it the same way he ignored the first one. His eyes stayed on me.“You’re thinking too hard,” he said quietly.“I’m thinking exactly the right amount.” I traced the rim of my water glass with one finger. “Someone knows. About my mother. About your father. About us. And they’re watching close enough to time that message perfectly.”He nodded once. “Which means they’re either inside the family or they have someone who is.”“Your mother?”“Possible.” His jaw tightened. “But she’s not subtle. If she wanted to scar
Ravien’s POV While she opened cabinets looking for something simple, I leaned against the island and watched her. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear. The way her fingers hesitated over the box of pasta like she was remembering something. “My mother used to make spaghetti when I was sick,” she said suddenly. “Not fancy. Just butter and parmesan. She said it fixed everything.” I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything. She glanced over her shoulder. “Did your mother ever cook for you?” “Evelyn?” The name tasted sour. “She hired people for that. She said the kitchen was no place for a Drayton.” Elise made a soft sound...not quite a laugh, not quite a scoff. “Figures.” She filled a pot with water, and set it on the stove. The simple domesticity of it felt obscene after everything that had happened today. I pushed off the island. “Let me.” She stepped aside without argument. I found olive oil, garlic, and dried chilli. Nothing fancy, but enough. While t
Ravien’s POV The elevator chime had barely faded when Elise’s phone buzzed again in her pocket. She flinched a little bit, almost imperceptible...but I caught it. The way her shoulders drew up, the quick press of her lips together. Something was wrong. Something had been wrong since the hallway outside my grandfather’s office. I crossed the room in four strides. “Who is it?” She pulled the phone out slowly, as if it might bite. The screen lit her face in cold blue. I saw the color drain from her cheeks before she could steady her expression. “Unknown,” she said. Too quickly. “Show me.” For a second I thought she would refuse. Then she turned the screen toward me. The photo first, was grainy, old, and unmistakable. Catherine Morgan walked beside my father, the younger versions of both, their fingers laced on each other like they had never planned to let go. Then the messages below. They never stopped looking. You’re next unless you walk away from him. Tonight. My blood tu
Elise’s POVRavien didn’t let go of my hand until we reached the private elevator.The doors slid shut, sealing us inside a mirrored box that looked like it reflected every fractured piece of what we’d just become.Step-siblings.The word kept repeating in my head like a broken record, each syllable felt heavier.I stared at our joined hands in the reflection...his fingers were long and strong, mine was smaller, my knuckles white from gripping too hard. I should pull away. The contract had rules. The truth had just rewritten every single one of them.But I didn’t.Neither did he.When the elevator opened onto the underground parking level, he finally released me, but only to open the passenger door of the black SUV waiting there. Camden stood beside it, his expression was carefully blank.“Straight home, sir?” he asked.“Yes,” Ravien answered. “And clear my schedule for the rest of the day.”Camden nodded once and disappeared toward the security booth.We drove out of the garage in si
Elise’s POVThe boardroom doors opened with the soft hiss of mechanized air.Twenty-three pairs of eyes turned toward us as Ravien and I stepped inside. The long polished table gleamed under recessed lighting. With glasses of water on top of it. At the far end sat Maxwell Drayton, with two empty chairs on either side, clearly meant for us.I forced my spine straight. Ravien’s hand brushed my lower back...just once, it was barely there, before dropping away. The touch lasted less than a second, but it was enough to remind me I wasn’t walking into this room alone.We took our seats.The silence was suffocating.Then a silver-haired man in his late fifties cleared his throat. Victor Langston, chief financial officer. I’d memorized the names from the company directory Sophia had grudgingly emailed me this morning.“Mr. Drayton,” Victor began, addressing Ravien but looking at me, “perhaps you’d like to introduce your… fiancée to the board.”Ravien’s voice came out smooth, and practiced. “T
Ravien’s POVThe Next Morning She came out of her room at 7:45 wearing a charcoal pencil skirt and cream blouse, it was simple, elegant, and professional.Her hair was pulled into a low bun, a few strands escaping to frame her face. She looked like she belonged in boardrooms.She looked untouchable.And it pissed me off how much I wanted to touch her.“Ready?” I asked, holding the elevator door.She nodded once, her chin high. No makeup except a swipe of nude lipstick. No jewelry except that tiny gold stud in her left ear...the one she never took out. The one I noticed the first night in the car.We rode down in silence. The air between us crackled.When the doors opened in the lobby, two security guards fell into step behind us.Camden was already waiting by the car.“Morning, sir. Miss Anderson.” He handed me a tablet. “Updated agenda. Your father added a private meeting with you and Miss Anderson before the board convenes.”Of course he did.Elise’s fingers tightened around the st







