MasukElena Carson I close the album carefully.The woman behind the counter smiles at me.“It’s lovely.”“Thank you.”“Is it a gift?”“Yes.”“For someone special?”I look down at the cover.“Very special.”She wraps the album in tissue paper and places it back in the bag. I thank her again, pay for the work, and carry it to the car.Once I’m outside, I call a cab and get in. For a moment, I consider opening it again.I don’t.Instead, I give the driver the address.He’s waiting for me when I arrive, standing in the living room with his phone in one hand and a look of mild impatience on his face.“There you are.”I check the time. “I’m not late.”“I didn’t say you were.”“You looked like you were about to file a missing-person report.”“I was considering it.”I set my bag down and walk straight into his arms.He catches me easily, one hand settling at my waist while the other comes up to cradle the back of my head.“Hello, baby,” he murmurs against my hair.“Hi.”He kisses my forehead,
Elena Carson By four thirty in the afternoon, I have checked the time so many times that I’m beginning to suspect my phone is doing it on purpose.Every time I look at the screen, the numbers seem to mock me.Four thirty-two.Four thirty-five.Four thirty-eight.I have exactly one hour left at Holland Enterprise, and for once, I am not thinking about the report sitting on my desk, the emails I still need to answer, or the list of things my supervisor expects me to finish before the end of the week.I’m thinking about Killian’s suitcase.More specifically, I’m thinking about the fact that tomorrow morning, he will close it, leave his penthouse, and get on a plane to England.Tomorrow.I’ve been aware of the countdown for days. I’ve watched it approach while pretending I can handle it, and I can. I still can. I’ve gone to work, completed assignments, laughed with my colleagues, and spent my evenings with him. I haven’t abandoned my responsibilities or spent every waking hour asking him
Killian DavenportWe leave a little later, after Elena has promised my mother she’ll visit again soon.Barbara hugs her at the door and holds on for an extra moment.“You know you’re always welcome here,” she tells her. “You don’t have to wait for an invitation.”“I know.”“And if you need anything, anything at all, you call me.”Elena smiles. “I will.”My mother kisses her forehead, then steps back.I watch Elena’s face as we walk toward the car. She is thoughtful, but not upset.“What?” I ask when we’re inside.She buckles her seat belt. “Your mother was being unusually affectionate.”“She has always been affectionate.”“More than usual.”“Perhaps she likes you.”Elena turns to stare at me.“Perhaps?”“I’m still gathering evidence.”She smacks my shoulder.I laugh and start the engine.She remains quiet for a moment, looking out through the windshield.Then she turns back to me.“Did you ask her to look out for me?”I could lie. It would be easy enough, and she would probably know i
Killian Davenport By the time we visit my mother, the reality of my departure has become part of the ordinary rhythm of our days.Not a shadow hanging over every conversation. Not something Elena and I have to keep examining to make sure it hasn’t changed shape overnight.It is simply there.I have arrangements to finish. She has work to do. We have evenings together, and we make the most of them without pretending we can stop time.I take her to see Barbara in the late afternoon.Elena knows where we’re going before we reach the house because she recognizes the turn onto the familiar street.“Your mother said she wanted to see me,” she says, looking at me.“She did.”“When did she tell you that?”“Yesterday.”“And you didn’t think to tell me?”“I didn’t realize I needed your permission to visit my mother.”She turns toward me slowly.I keep my expression neutral.“You’re going to regret saying that.”“I’m already regretting it.”She smiles triumphantly and reaches for my hand as
Killian Davenport The next few days settle into a rhythm that feels surprisingly ordinary.Elena goes to Holland Enterprise every morning, returning in the evenings with stories about the people she works with, the things she has been asked to do, and the small victories she seems determined to pretend aren’t victories at all.On Monday, she tells me she has been given responsibility for preparing a report.On Tuesday, she tells me she has finished it.On Wednesday, she informs me that her supervisor has asked her to assist with another project.I look up from my laptop. “That’s good.”“I know.”“Then why do you look suspicious?”“Because I think they’re testing me.”“They probably are.”Her mouth falls open.I close my laptop halfway, giving her my full attention. “You’re an intern, Elena. They’re going to give you work, observe how you handle it, and decide whether you’re capable of taking on more. That’s generally how internships work.”“I know how internships work
Killian Davenport I clench my jaw and stay silent, but my cock is fully hard now, pressing against the front of my trousers. She sees it. Of course she does. Her eyes flick down, linger, and that smile widens.She reaches behind her back. The bra unhooks. She holds the cups against her chest for a second longer than necessary, teasing, before letting it fall. Her breasts spill free, full, soft, nipples already tight. She walks to the bed, climbs on, and sits against the headboard with her legs loosely bent. Across from me. Perfect view.Then she cups them.Both hands. Thumbs brushing over her nipples in slow circles. She pinches lightly, rolls them between her fingers, and a soft sound slips out of her throat. My hands tighten on the arms of the chair. My cock throbs, heavy and aching.She looks straight at me while she does it.“You’re not allowed to touch,” she whispers. “Not yet.”I groan low in my chest. She immediately presses a finger to her lips.“Shh. Don’t move.”I stay
Elena Carson He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight.Killian Davenport straightens from the bar, his grey eyes locked on me like he’s trying to place something. My stomach flips violently. He starts walking toward me, slow and deliberate, like a predator who just spotted easy prey. I freeze
Elena Carson The first time Killian Davenport broke my heart, I was thirteen years old. The second time happened tonight when his sister looked up from her phone and casually said, “My brother is back.” That was barely an hour ago, and my heart still hasn’t recovered. I swallow hard, staring a
Elena Carson I don’t wait for him to say anything else before I walk out of his office. The door clicks shut behind me, and I keep walking, fast and angry. My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. My cheeks are burning too and my hands won’t stop shaking. I just need to get the
Elena CarsonIt’s been three days since Professor Davenport asked me to drop his class and I told him no.Three days of successfully avoiding him. Or maybe he’s been avoiding me. Either way, I haven’t seen him since that awkward confrontation in his office. But I hear his name everywhere I turn o







