ログインEMILY GRAYSON'S The afternoon drifted by far too quickly. One moment we were wandering through the narrow streets of Santorini. The sun had begun its slow descent toward the horizon. The island seemed to transform as evening approached. The white buildings glowed golden beneath the fading sunlight. The sea shimmered like molten glass. Every restaurant and café was filled with people gathering to watch the famous sunset. Apparently, half the island had the exact same idea, including me. I stopped near a viewpoint overlooking the caldera. The view stretched endlessly before us: the cliffs, the sea, the whitewashed buildings cascading down the hillside. It looked unreal, like someone had painted it. My fingers tightened around my phone as I took another picture, and another, and another. Alex watched me with quiet amusement. "You have approximately seven hundred photos already." I gasped. "That's an exaggeration." "You took forty-three pictures of the same church." "It was a beautif
EMILY GRAYSON'SThe next morning, I woke slowly. Warm, golden sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting soft patterns across the white sheets and marble floors. For several seconds, I simply lay there, listening to the distant crash of waves against the cliffs below, the soft rustle of curtains dancing in the sea breeze, and the quiet stillness of the villa. It was peaceful. Not the fragile kind that vanished the moment you opened your eyes. Not the kind that came with conditions. Real peace. A smile touched my lips. Then I felt an arm tighten around my waist. I looked down.Alex. Still asleep. Or pretending to be. Honestly, with him, it was impossible to tell. His face looked relaxed against the pillow, dark hair slightly messy from sleep. One arm was wrapped securely around me, possessively, protectively. As though even unconscious, some part of him refused to let me wander too far away. The sight alone warmed my chest. Carefully, I reached up and brushed my f
EMILY GRAYSON'S The kiss lasted longer than either of us intended. Or maybe exactly as long as Alex intended. With him, it was hard to tell. By the time we finally pulled apart, I was smiling so much my cheeks hurt. Alex looked entirely too pleased with himself, which only made me roll my eyes."Don't.""Don't what?" he asked innocently."Whatever smug thing you're doing."His smirk widened. "I have no idea what you're talking about."Liar.Before I could argue, a familiar voice drifted from outside the bedroom."Dinner is ready!"Teresa.I immediately brightened. Alex sighed dramatically. I laughed."You sound jealous.""I am."That startled a laugh out of me. "You are jealous of Teresa.""She keeps stealing your attention.""She's feeding me.""So do I.""Alex," I warned."I do love feeding you."I covered my face. "Oh my God.""What?" he asked."You make normal sentences sound possessive.""That's because they are."I laughed so hard I nearly stumbled. Alex caught my waist before
EMILY GRAYSON'S Taking my hand, Alex lead me toward the house. The massive front doors opened before we even reached them. The moment I saw who was standing there, I froze. "Teresa?" My voice came out as a surprised squeak. Beside her stood Paola, her granddaughter, both of them smiling warmly. "Teresa!" I practically ran toward her. She barely had time to open her arms before I threw mine around her. She laughed softly and hugged me back tightly. Immediately, that familiar warmth settled inside my chest. I had always loved Teresa's motherly affection—the way she fussed over everyone, the way she somehow made every place feel like home. When I finally pulled away, I hugged Paola too. "You are both here?" "Welcome to Santorini, Emily," they said together. I turned toward Alex in disbelief. "How did you get them here?" The happiness in my voice was impossible to hide. Alex looked entirely too pleased with himself. Before he could answer, Sergio stepped forward."It was my idea." I lo
EMILY GRAYSON'S The aircraft touched down smoothly. My excitement had been building for the last twenty minutes, and the moment the wheels met the runway, it became impossible to hide. Alex noticed. Of course he did. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he watched me staring out the window. "You're excited." I looked at him. "What? How can you tell I'm trying to act normal?" "You're failing." I gasped. "I am completely calm." His eyebrow lifted. I immediately pointed toward the window. "Look at that water, Alex." The ocean stretched endlessly beyond the runway. Bright blue. Almost unreal. Like someone had turned the saturation up on the entire island. His smile widened. "Calm down, Emily," I said to myself. Alex laughed softly. The sound warmed something inside my chest. A few minutes later, the aircraft door opened. Warm Mediterranean air rushed into the cabin. The scent of saltwater drifted inside. Sunshine flooded the entrance. And suddenly,
EMILY GRAYSON'S I didn't know how long I'd been asleep. The soft mattress beneath me felt unfamiliar as I slowly opened my eyes. For a brief moment, confusion settled over me. Then I remembered: the plane, Alex, Santorini. A smile immediately touched my lips.The bedroom was bathed in warm afternoon light. Sunlight poured through the windows, painting golden patterns across the sheets. I stretched lazily and immediately realized someone was sitting beside me. My gaze shifted. Alex. Of course. He was seated in the chair near the bed, his tablet abandoned on the small table beside him. He wasn't working; he was watching me. Again.I narrowed my eyes. "Were you staring at me while I slept?" I asked. His expression remained completely serious. "No," he lied. "Alexander." A faint smirk appeared on his lips. "Maybe." I groaned and buried my face in the pillow. "That's weird." "I know." "You admit it's weird?" "I didn't say I'd stop." I laughed.The sound earned a look of quiet satisf
EMILY GRAYSON'S For one exquisite second, my lips were on his, and nothing else existed. Alex’s fingers slid into my hair immediately, tangling deep through the strands like he couldn’t help himself. I had noticed it before—his quiet obsession with my hair. The way he touched it when he was stress
EMILY GRAYSON'S I stood alone on the balcony, the night stretching endlessly before me. Far below, the city glowed in scattered gold and white lights, blurred softly by the darkness. The wind moved gently against my skin, cool and steady, carrying a kind of quiet I hadn’t felt in what seemed like
UNKNOWN POV.. Paused. Zoomed in. Alexander Antonio’s face filled the monitor. Cold. Expressionless. The viewer studied him for a long moment in complete silence before slowly leaning back in his chair. “Well… well…” The voice was calm. Cultured. Almost amused. A man in his late
ALEXANDER ANTONIO'S The SUV slowed as Warehouse Eight came into view near the water. Huge. Dark. Waiting. The vehicles parked several meters away behind abandoned cargo containers to stay hidden from sight. I stepped out first. The cold harbor wind slammed against my coat immediately. Rain sprayed







