تسجيل الدخولI'm going to speed things up a little from here on out, there will be a few small time skips along the way. Don't worry, I'll still be covering all the important moments, I just don't want to drag out parts of the timeline that don't need entire chapters dedicated to them. Also, I think I needed a bit of a creative reset. For years, I've been writing violent, obsessive, dark romances, and as much as I love them, constantly living in those worlds can be mentally exhausting. This time, I wanted to focus more on the romance, the characters, and the relationship itself. Don't worry, the action & drama are still coming. 😭 But for once, I wanted to write something a little softer and spend less time in the darkness. I hope you've been enjoying this story despite it being a little different from my usual books. ❤️
Eventually her fingers reached my shoulder, then moved higher until her hand settled against the side of my neck. The moment her skin touched me there, something inside my chest tightened. I didn't even realize I was moving until it happened. My head tilted slightly, leaning into her touch, just e
Gianna blinked, then something softened in her face, "She's okay." The pressure eased immediately. Gianna looked down briefly, then back at me, “I waited.” “Why.” She shifted slightly on the trunk, fingers tightening around her arms, “You know why.” My mind ran through possibilities. Logical on
"It's not incest, you illiterate bastard." "Sure." "It's objectively not." "Fantastic. Wonderful. Congratulations." I contemplated smashing his head into the marble. Dante pointed at me, "But while you're busy trying to fuck up Dad's blood pressure, I've been busy creating my own problems." Ad
And for the first time since leaving Gianna's room, I allowed myself to admit something. The reason her words hurt wasn't because they were true. The reason they hurt was because they weren't. Because nobody had ever loved me the way my mother did and nobody ever would again. I heard the crunch o
Raphael ━━ ⛓ ━━ I stood in front of the grave with my hands in my pockets and stared down at the stone. The grass had been cut recently, the flowers were fresh. Claire replaced them every few weeks. The wind moved through the trees above me, leaves rustled softly. I looked at my mother's name t
I kept moving, my shoulder scraping against the wall as I limped down the endless corridor. His words meant nothing to me. They were just empty, noisy static. "From this day onwards," I whispered, as I stopped walking for a split second, pressing my back against the wall to catch my breath, and tur







