LOGIN(Vivian’s POV)The message never came again.Days passed. Then weeks. And slowly—so quietly I almost didn’t notice—the tightness in my chest loosened. The fear that had crept back into my bones after everything with Darius began to fade, chased away by something warmer. Stronger.Safety.One afternoon, I stood in my studio, sunlight spilling through the tall windows, watching my team bustle around as we prepared a mock-up for a new museum wing. Laughter echoed softly. Martha was arguing with a contractor. Someone spilled coffee and cursed dramatically.Normal life.I breathed it in.My phone buzzed on my desk.Kai: Lunch. Rooftop café. I’m outside.I smiled before I even replied.Me: You’re five minutes early.Kai: I miss my wife.I shook my head, warmth blooming in my chest, and grabbed my bag.When I stepped outside, he was already there—leaning against his car, sunglasses on, suit jacket draped casually over his arm. The same man who could terrify entire boardrooms… now watching me
(Kai’s POV)The moment Vivian fell asleep beside me, her breathing evening out against my chest, I knew one thing with terrifying clarity.I was already too late.Not too late to save her. Not this time. But too late to prevent someone from trying.I stared at the ceiling, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, my fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt as if letting go for even a second might make her disappear. The message she’d shown me replayed in my head over and over, each word cutting deeper than the last.You don’t deserve to be by his side.I exhaled slowly, careful not to wake her.They were testing the water.And I hated that they’d chosen her to do it.Vivian stirred slightly, her brows knitting together even in sleep, and I immediately tightened my hold, lowering my head to press a kiss into her hair.“I’ve got you,” I whispered. “No one touches what’s mine.”The words weren’t meant to be cruel. They were a vow.When she was fully asleep, I carefully slipped out of
(Vivian’s POV)I stared at the locked screen for a long moment, my reflection faintly visible against the glass. My face looked calm, composed—too composed. Inside, something sharp was scraping at my ribs.I need to tell Kai… but should I?I knew him. I knew what that single sentence would do. It would flip a switch. The gentle warmth he reserved for me would turn into something colder, darker, more dangerous—for anyone even remotely connected to this message. Kai didn’t do half-measures when it came to me.My phone buzzed again.I flinched.Another message. Same number.Unknown Number:You should remember your place.My fingers went numb.“That’s enough,” I whispered, standing abruptly. The chair scraped against the floor, loud in the quiet office. I paced once, twice, then forced myself to breathe in deeply, counting to four like my therapist had taught me. In. Hold. Out.I refused to let fear own me again.I walked to the window, staring down at the city below. People moved like an
By the time I arrived at my studio, my mind was already filled with color palettes, floor plans, and furniture catalogs. I ran an interior design company specializing in art museum displays, high-end wedding designs, and new restaurant concepts. Today’s schedule was packed."Focus, Vivian. Be professional. Don’t float around like a newlywed idiot," I reminded myself, rubbing my temples before grabbing my tablet.My assistant, Martha, peeked in. “Your 10 a.m. client is here, Mrs. Reyes.”I still wasn’t used to that. Mrs. Reyes.“Send her in,” I said, smoothing my blazer.A woman in her late thirties walked in—elegant, sharp-featured, and dressed in a sleek beige suit.“Mrs. Reyes, thank you for seeing me,” she said with a polite smile.“Please, call me Vivian,” I replied, shaking her hand. “How can I help you?”She pulled out a folder. “I’m opening a new art café in Seminyak. I saw your work at Liora Art Museum, and I want something similar—clean, modern lines but with warm lighting an
(Vivian’s POV)Five months after our weddingThe soft rise and fall of Kai’s chest beneath my cheek almost lulled me to sleep, but my mind refused to rest. My body still hummed—sensitive, tender, beautifully ruined by him—but my thoughts wandered in too many directions at once.Five months of marriage.Five months of loving him, wanting him, surviving him.I tilted my head up slightly, trying to study him without waking him. His jaw relaxed, the sharpness of it softened in sleep. His hand still rested possessively on my hip, heavy and warm, as if his body refused to let mine go even unconsciously.“My husband,” I whispered to myself, barely moving my lips.His fingers twitched, almost tightening.God. Even asleep, he was impossible.I eased myself up, intending to slip away to the bathroom for a moment, but the second I moved an inch, his eyes snapped open—dark, sharp, alert. Like he’d been awake the whole time.“Where are you going?” he murmured, voice rough and still thick with slee
(Kai’s POV)The moment the hotel suite door clicked shut behind us, I turned the lock and faced her. My wife.My wife.The word sounded unreal in my head, too beautiful to be true. But there she was—Vivian Rosendale-Reyes now—standing barefoot on the marble floor, wrapped in white silk and innocence she no longer had. At least, not with me.She looked up at me beneath thick lashes, her cheeks slightly flushed from the champagne, or maybe from knowing what came next.“You're mine now,” I said, voice low, deliberate.Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak.Good. I didn’t want her to.I stepped forward, grabbed her by the waist, and pressed her back against the wall with my body. “Do you have any idea what that means, Vivian?”She gave a soft, shaky breath. “You’re going to tell me, aren’t you?”I smiled—dark, possessive. “No, baby. I’m going to show you.”I kissed her like I hadn’t seen her in years. Hard, hungry. She tasted like wedding cake and trouble. My fingers tangled in her hair a







