FAZER LOGINKiraTwo weeks into the new job, and I almost smiled at work today. The realization hit me halfway through balancing a client’s tax file, somewhere between one column of numbers and the next, and it caught me so off guard I actually stopped typing to sit with it. Nobody had shouted my name all morning. Nobody had locked a door behind me. Nobody had touched me, or looked at me like I owed them something for existing in the same room. The worst crisis Dana’s Bookkeeping and Tax had produced all week was currently unfolding four feet away, where Patricia stood in the break room doorway with one hand on her hip, glaring at the espresso machine like it had personally betrayed her.“Who touched my coffee machine?” Her voice cracked through the office loud enough that three heads ducked behind their monitors on instinct.“It just needs water,” one of the junior accountants offered, not looking up.“It had water.” Patricia narrowed her eyes at the machine like it might confess under pressur
KiraMom was already at the kitchen table when I came down, hands wrapped around a mug she wasn’t drinking from, clearly waiting for me.“Can we talk?” she asked, before I’d even reached the coffee pot. “Just for a minute.”“I have somewhere to be.” I wasn’t lying, exactly. I didn’t have anywhere to be yet, but I intended to fix that as soon as possible.“I heard you and Xavier yesterday. In the garden.” She said it carefully, like she was setting something fragile down on a table. “I didn’t hear what about. But you sounded upset, and then you left, and I just—” She twisted the mug in her hands. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”Something in my chest tightened, unwelcome and unfamiliar. Three years of not having anyone notice when I was falling apart, and now the one time it happened, it was her.The garden. Right. The fight I’d cut off mid-sentence because my phone had buzzed with a text that still made my stomach turn every time I thought about it.MORRISON: Don’t think about p
XavierMy father’s study smelled like leather and old money, same as it always had. He didn’t sit. Neither did I.My hands curled into fists at my sides without permission, nails biting half-moons into my palms. Something under my skin paced, restless, picking up on the tension in the room before I’d fully registered it myself.“How long have you known?” His voice was quiet, which was worse than shouting. My father only got quiet when he’d already decided something.“Since the gala.” No point lying. “It wasn’t intentional. It just happened.”“Nothing about a mate bond just happens, Xavier.” He turned from the window, and for a second I saw exactly what I’d look like in thirty years—the same jaw, the same eyes, all of it aimed at me like a verdict. “Dr. Hensley ran routine bloodwork on Sheila last week for the wedding physical. Standard procedure. Except her daughter’s name came up flagged in the pack registry two days later, cross-referenced against yours.” His mouth twisted. “You di
I woke up disoriented, staring at a ceiling that wasn’t mine, in a bed that smelled like fabric softener instead of the mildew I’d grown used to at Brielle’s.For one blissful second, I forgot where I was.Then it all came crashing back—Morrison’s slap still a phantom sting on my cheek, the eviction notice, the two suitcases now sitting open and half-unpacked against the wall of a guest room bigger than my old apartment. And downstairs, somewhere in this house, the man who’d spent six years calling me a pig.My mate. My stepbrother. My own personal cosmic joke.I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, letting the water run hotter than necessary until my skin turned pink and the fog in my head cleared enough to remember the plan. Sixty days. Keep my head down, save every dollar, avoid Xavier, and get out. That was it. That was the whole plan, and I intended to follow it like scripture.I got dressed in the plainest thing I owned—leggings, an old college sweatshirt—and headed
I sat on Brielle's couch, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe."Kira, honey, you need to calm down." Brielle rubbed circles on my back, her voice soothing. "I can't understand what you're saying.""I'm—" A hiccup cut me off. "I'm fucked, Bri. Completely fucked.""Okay, deep breath. Tell me what happened."I sucked in air and tried to compose myself. "Morrison fired me. And kicked me out of the apartment.""What?" Brielle's hand stilled on my back. "He can't do that!""He did." I wiped my face with shaking hands. "I have twenty-four hours to pack my stuff and get out.""That piece of shit." Brielle stood up, pacing. "We should report him. Sue him. Something. He can't sexually harass you and then fire you when you refuse—""With what lawyer, Bri?" I laughed bitterly. "I can barely afford groceries. I'm still drowning in student loan debt. I have exactly three hundred dollars in my bank account and nowhere to live.""You can stay here—""Your lease doesn't allow additional tenants. Re
"Wait."Xavier's voice stopped me mid-step. I didn't turn around."I have no interest in hurting you again, Kira. I know you don't believe that, but it's true." He paused, and I could hear him take a breath. "But today isn't about me. It's about your mother."I turned slowly, eyebrows raised. "What?""I've been living here for two weeks while my father finalizes some business deals. I watched Sheila prepare for your arrival—she's been planning this dinner since yesterday morning. She cleaned the entire house twice. Burned three different attempts at making your favorite dessert before getting it right." His voice softened. "She's terrified you won't come back.""That's not my problem," I said, but the words felt hollow."I know." Xavier shoved his hands in his pockets. "And I'm not asking you to forgive her. Or me. I'm just saying... she's trying. Really trying. And if my presence here is going to ruin that for her, then I'll leave."I stared at him, searching for the trap. "You'd lea







