Masuk"My thesis gets approved in one pass," I say. "And Aunt Jean stays healthy and happy for a long, long time."The thought of her lands with its usual weight of guilt. She wasn't at the party tonight. My father didn't invite her — didn't think to, or chose not to, and I didn't push, and now it's past midnight on my birthday and I haven't seen the woman who raised me in weeks.I set that aside for later. I'm getting better at setting things aside for later.Liam is quiet for a moment.Then: "Your wishes.""What about them?""They didn't include me."I look at him. The dashboard light catches the particular injured quality he's giving the windshield."You told me not to say them out loud," I say. "Something about wishes not coming true if spoken.""I asked first.""And then immediately told me asking was pointless. You set the terms." I take another spoonful of cake. "You can't retroactively object."He m
He leads me out of the break room like nothing happened.Which, in the way that matters publicly, nothing did. We were in a break room. His sister cut her hand. We had a conversation. The party is still going.The ballroom hits me like a physical thing when we push back through the corridor — warmth, perfume, the hum of two hundred conversations running simultaneously. The chandelier hasn't dimmed. The champagne towers are still upright. Vivian is laughing at something across the room.The world continued without us.Liam stops.
Elizabeth pulls her hand back the moment I reach for it.Not dramatically. Not unkindly. Just — a withdrawal, clean and final, like a door closing without slamming."I'm fine," she says.I straighten up. My hand, extended toward the gauze wrap, has nowhere to go, so I lower it.There's something different in Elizabeth's face. She has been, in every interaction I've had with her, one of the most effortlessly warm people in the Hart family — the kind of warmth that's genuine rather than performed, that pulls you in without trying. She tied Liam's ties and cooked h
I stare at him.My brain is running the sentence back — what if I feel guilty — and trying to land on the interpretation that makes it metaphor. Literary reference. Academic observation. Anything other than what his face tells me it is.His face tells me it isn't metaphor.Adam looks at me. Really looks at me — the way he almost never does, the way he controls so carefully that the moments he lets himself slip through feel like watching something rare happen in real time.Then he says it plainly, the way he says everything that costs him the most:
Lisa watches Elizabeth Hart walk away.The practiced warmth on her face holds — it always holds — but underneath, very quietly, something arranges itself into satisfaction.Twenty years of research. Twenty years of patience.Claire Tan.Just a name. That's all it took.She lifts her champagne glass and takes a slow sip and scans the room for her next move.
I find the rooftop terrace through a door marked Staff Only that someone has propped open with a folded cocktail napkin, which is exactly the kind of detail I file away and appreciate.The November air hits me like a clean break.Below, through the glass walls, the party continues — crystal and champagne and the specific, exhausting performance of everyone being exactly who they need to be for exactly the right audience. I can see Vivian, changed into something that is actually hers, moving through a cluster of people with the ease of someone who was born knowing how to fill a room.Beside her: Tyler Nash, who I recognize from the selection round, now apparently doing promo work for Apex. He's laughing at something she said.George Smith is inside talking to Liam. Their body language is comfortable, the ease of men who have decided to trust each other's interests more or less. I watch Liam say something that makes George's mouth curve and think: whatever I'm worried about down there, i
Allie watched as Liam leaned in closer. His warm breath brushed against her ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.Her voice trembled as she closed her eyes tightly. “Stop it, Liam! Get away from me! Just leave me alone!”Liam smirked, his amusement barely concealed. He was deliberately
Vivian Brooks put her phone away, a sly smile lingering on her lips.Scarlett Renwick folded her arms, her tone cold. "You should delete that picture."Vivian raised an eyebrow. "Why? Don’t tell me you’re going to involve yourself in Allison’s life now."Scarlett's voice hardened. "I can’t ignore w
The early stages of filming had gone smoothly, with everyone energized and optimistic about the progress. However, the tension on set was palpable as they prepared for the climactic scene.It was Allison "Allie" Brooks’ turn to perform her most challenging shot yet. The script called for her charac
Allie Brooks stirred awake to the sound of Liam Hart’s deep voice. He had just stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered, and was buttoning up his crisp shirt. His hair glistened with droplets of water, and he exuded a calm confidence that made Allie’s stomach churn with mixed emotions.With a







