Scars of the Heart

Five years ago... The city never slept, but that night, it bled. Thunder cracked across the Manhattan skyline as rain pounded the windows of the penthouse suite like angry fists. Elena Monroe stood in the middle of the marble-floored bedroom, her body trembling as lightning flashed behind her. Her silk dress clung to her skin, soaked through from the storm she had just walked through. Her heels were gone. Her pride, shattered.And the man she loved... the man whom she thought loved her back, stood before her in a tailored suit, eyes cold as the empire he ruled."Say it again," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Say it to my face, Grayson."Grayson Wolfe didn't flinch. He didn't blink. He just stood with that perfect posture and that godforsaken calm that used to make her melt. Now it made her sick."I'm marrying Ava Harrington. The engagement will be announced tomorrow." He responded. Elena stared at him like she didn't recognize the man in front of her. Just hours ago, they'd be

Elena awoke tangled in the silk sheets of her penthouse bed, her body sore and still humming from the night before. For a second, she thought it had been a dream—the heated, broken kiss, the rough hands that knew her body too well, the war of lust and betrayal that had exploded between them. But it wasn't a dream.Grayson's scent still lingered on the pillow beside her. His watch was on the nightstand. The storm between them had quieted only long enough for their bodies to speak the pain their mouths couldn't. And now, she regretted it.The bathroom door opened, and Grayson emerged with a towel around his waist. His hair was damp, his body glistening. Elena sat up, pulling the covers to her chest. "Leave." Her voice was hoarse, firm.He met her gaze, unbothered. "You didn't say that last night."She narrowed her eyes. "Last night was a mistake."He walked to her side of the bed, his eyes sharp and unreadable. "Funny how you didn't sound like it was a mistake when you were screaming

Elena hadn't slept a wink. Even as the sun bled through the floor-length windows of her penthouse, casting golden streaks across her room, her mind replayed the rooftop encounter like a broken record. Grayson, on his knees. His words, pleas, promises, and confessions still haunted her. She gripped the photo of Sophie he had given her and stared at it again. It had been a mistake to meet him. She'd cracked, even if just for a second. Letting him back in –emotionally or otherwise–would be like playing with a loaded gun. And Elena Monroe had no more lives left to waste on him. Wolfe Enterprises – Grayson's Office... Grayson stood at the edge of his office window, staring out over the Manhattan skyline. The city bustled below, unaware of the chaos unraveling in his world. The press had slowed down since the initial leaks, but the tension inside the building remained sharp enough to cut glass. Investors were jumpy. Board members restless. His reputation, once untouchable, now

The city lights stretched far beneath the penthouse balcony, shimmering like secrets too loud to whisper.Elena stood outside with her arms folded against the chill. Her hair was unbound and dancing around her shoulders as if it, too, couldn’t rest. Inside, the encrypted files still played on loop in her study, evidence of Krane’s twisted ambition. But it was something else that kept her awake.Grayson’s voice.-I’ll always choose her. Even if you never choose me.She hated how it stirred something soft inside her. Something she had buried.The doorbell rang.Her head turned sharply.She wasn't expecting anyone. Not at this hour.Elena grabbed her robe tighter and moved inside, tapping her security monitor.Grayson Wolfe.Alone.Rain streaked down the camera lens as he stood there in a black coat, his jaw clenched like he wasn’t sure if he should be there.She pressed the intercom.“You’re persistent.” She accused. “I had nowhere else to go.” He responded. Her chest tightened. With

Pain. Heat. Smoke.Elena coughed violently, blinking through the thick haze.A sharp ache radiated from her side, and something warm trickled down her temple, blood. The metallic scent clung to the air, mixing with smoke and dust.“Grayson…” she rasped, twisting her head weakly.He lay beside her, unconscious, his arm still wrapped protectively around her body, shielding her from the full brunt of the explosion. His once-pristine black suit was torn, stained with ash and crimson.“Grayson,” she whispered again, more urgently.She pressed her palm against his chest.A heartbeat.Weak. But there.Relief flooded her.Suddenly, shouts echoed through the rubble. Jessica’s voice and others from Grayson’s security team.“We’ve got them! Over here!”Two paramedics and armed guards rushed in, clearing debris. Elena felt herself being lifted, her limbs limp, her head spinning.She tried to stay awake, to hold on, but darkness wrapped around her like a blanket, dragging her under.Two Days Later