Monica clutched the sheets tightly as Liam opened the cabinet. She held her breath, afraid to move, afraid to break the moment. It had been three years. Three silent, distant years—and now, finally, he had touched her. She watched him as he searched through the cabinet, her eyes tracing the lines of his bare back. His body still made her breath catch. He shut the cabinet and turned. Their eyes met. Her heart skipped. Monica froze when she saw the small foil packet in his hand. A condom. Her heart thudded. They were married. Why would he need that? Doesn’t he want to have a child with me? The thought stung. She laid there, quiet, holding the sheets tighter around her. Why does this feel like a hookup? she wondered. Why not like a wife? All these thoughts raced through her head as she watched Liam tear the packet open, calm and focused, like it was just another routine. Was this even love-making, or just sex? It wasn’t how she had pictured their first time. But as Liam clim
After walking out of the house, Monica had no idea where to go. Her feet just moved, carrying her away from the place that didn’t feel like home anymore. The image of Liam and Brie, tangled together on her bed, burned behind her eyes. No matter how hard she blinked, it wouldn’t go away. So she ended up at a bar, hoping the noise and the alcohol might shut her brain off. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there. The music was loud, but it felt far away—like it belonged to another world. A world where her life hadn’t just fallen apart. Tears kept falling, but she didn’t wipe them. What was the point? Her husband and sister were still at the house when she left. They didn’t even try to hide it. Didn’t even pretend to be sorry. She picked up another shot glass and threw it back. The alcohol burned her throat, but she didn’t even flinch. That pain was easy. It was the one in her chest that hurt the most. She stared into the bottom of the glass like it might tell her what to d
Monica slowly opened her eyes and stared at the bright room. Her head throbbed. She sat up quickly and flung the sheets off her—then let out a sigh when she saw her clothes were still on. She looked around, confused. This wasn’t her room. Her heart started to pound. Where the hell am I? She stood, blinking rapidly. The last thing she remembered was drowning in shots after finding out the love of her life had cheated on her. Did I go home with someone? Grabbing her heels from the floor, she tiptoed to the door and peeked out. The apartment was sleek. Expensive. Someone had good taste and a whole lot of money to spend. She crept back into the bedroom, looking for her phone. Nothing. Panic tightened in her chest. She didn’t want to run into whoever brought her here—but she needed that phone. Monica crept down the stairs. Then stopped. A voice. Humming. A man. She followed the sound and froze in the hallway, peeking into the kitchen. A shirtless man stood at the stove flipping p
Spencer stood and gave her a devilish smile. “We sinned,” he said, his voice smooth and low. “I came to ask for mercy.” Monica’s breath caught in her throat. A cold sweat prickled at her forehead. His eyes locked with hers, intense and unreadable—he wasn’t bluffing. “Spencer, you need to leave. Now.” Her voice cracked with panic. He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “Are you disgusted that we spent the night together, Monica?” he drawled. That teasing tone, paired with his frustratingly handsome face—he looked so carefree unlike Liam. Liam was always stern and professional. Spencer, on the other hand, looking like a playboy. “What the hell, Spencer!” she snapped. “I was drunk. I barely remember anything. So no—we didn’t spend the night together.” Spencer chuckled darkly. “Or do you just hate how much I turn you on?” “Turn me on?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “In your dreams, Spencer.” He started moving toward her. She instinctively stepped back. “We could test it,” he said,
Liam’s eyes might have widened twice as his mind registered her words. Brie clutched tightly onto Liam's arm, visibly shaken. "You were messing around with your husband's brother? Even if you want to get back at us for hurting you, isn’t this a little too shameless?" Brie asked. Monica laughed softly. She knew nothing could ever hurt Liam more than bruising his stupid ego. He hated being compared to anyone—especially Spencer. But still, as the laugh left her lips, it felt hollow . How did we get here? When did love turn into this sick game of revenge? But if she didn’t hurt him, he’d never understand the weight of what they did to her. "You know what Spencer did to my grandfather for the inheritance. You wouldn’t scoop so low, Monica." Liam finally lost his cool and pushed Brie away. Monica maintained her teasing glare. "You could sleep with my sister. Why can’t I have your brother? Aren’t we sharing siblings now?" she asked with an innocent tone. It was a jab. Sharp. Intentio
Monica had barely climbed the front porch when the sound of a door slamming made her jolt. The front door to the mansion was ajar. She heard raised voices inside. "How would the rest of the world view me when they know that my two daughters are interested in the same man?" her father, Leonard Banks, said, his voice laced with frustration. Monica froze. Daughters? Her breath caught. Her parents knew. They already knew Brie was involved with Liam. She edged closer to the door, pressing herself against it, her heart pounding. "Leonard, now isn’t the time to be proud. Monica has been married to Liam McKenzie for years, and what has she brought to this family? Look at Brie. Just a fling, and contracts are coming into the company," Brenda said sharply. "But that doesn’t change the fact that Monica is still our daughter," Leonard retorted. "Your daughter," Brenda corrected coldly. Monica’s body stiffened. Her brain struggled to make sense of the words. "You promised never to bring tha
Monica's eyes were all red and teary. She didn't notice the man trailing behind her from a distance. She didn’t have much left on her. All through her stay at the McKenzie's, everything she bought was billed to Liam, so she didn’t keep any money with her. The atmosphere changed and it started raining. She didn’t even stop to stand under a shade and kept dragging her boxes under the rain. Her clothes and hair were all drenched, and it wasn’t long before she started feeling cold. Her once-cheery life had gone sore. She didn’t have any more strength left. Her biological mother was dead, and she wasn’t sure anyone else was willing to accept her. A black Mercedes pulled beside her, and Spencer came down from the car and held the umbrella above her head. “Monica…” he gently called. Her ghostly pale face turned to him with shaky lips. “Liam.” Spencer’s face changed in a moment. “You came for me?” she shivered. Spencer swallowed as he grabbed her. She had a fever. She was mistaking him
Monica sneezed and opened her eyes in the dimly lit room. She jumped up and glanced frantically at the oddly familiar room. Her eyes widened as she saw the unfamiliar clothes she was wearing. "Shit!" she cursed. How did she end up in Spencer's house again? Did Spencer change her clothes? She got out of bed and left the bedroom. A voice was humming, and she followed the sound until she saw Spencer in the kitchen making pancakes and watching TV. "You are awake," Spencer commented, flipping over the pancake then dropping it on a plate. "I thought you were going to sleep till tomorrow." "Rude." Monica folded her arms across her chest. "What happened to my clothes?" He turned and spared her a smile, then turned off the cooker. He picked up the pancakes and dropped them on the counter. "I'm talking to you." "I shouldn't even be here," she muttered to herself, her forehead creased in confusion. "What am I even doing here?" The last time she recalled was getting into an argument with h
The bartender came back with Brad.Spencer stepped forward, frowning. “Who the hell are you? And where is she?”Brad sighed and waved the bartender away. “Who the hell are you? Because you’re not the guy she married.”Spencer looked taken aback. “What?”“I’m Brad Holland,” Brad said. “Monica passed out after hearing something. The doctor’s checking on her.”“I want to see her,” Spencer said sharply.Brad crossed his arms. “And who exactly are you to her?”Spencer’s eyes darkened. “Her friend.”Brad raised an eyebrow. “Really? Just a friend?”Spencer didn’t answer. The air grew tense.Brad gave a small nod. “Fine. You can see her. But she’s not leaving with you. Not until she wakes up and says so herself.”“Fair enough,” Spencer muttered.Brad led him through the large bar, past several back rooms. When they reached one, he opened the door just as the doctor was about to leave.“She’s just stressed. Let her rest—she’ll wake up soon,” the doctor said, shaking Brad’s hand before walking
Max scrambled to pull up his boxers and yanked on his pants. “This is my business,” he muttered, buttoning up. “What was so urgent it couldn’t wait two more damn minutes? I was almost—”“Spare me the details, young Master,” Sam cut in dryly. “Your friend is passed out on the dining table.”Max froze. “What?”“You might want to check on him instead of moaning his name in the bathroom,” Sam added with a knowing look before walking out.Max rushed into the living room—and sure enough, Lake was slumped over the table, unconscious.He knelt beside him, placing a hand on Lake’s forehead. “He’s burning up.”“I already called Dr. Madison,” Sam said from behind.Max groaned. “Why Madison? You should’ve called Oscar or Frank.”“Can’t,” Sam replied. “Oscar’s tied up with an emergency, and Frank flew out with a patient. Madison was the only one available.”Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m never comfortable around her.”Sam raised a brow. “You like dicks than ass... her ass.”Max
Lake squirmed, but Max only tightened his grip around his waist, locking him in place."Stop being such a whiny baby and listen to Daddy," Max said with a wink, clearly enjoying every second of Lake's discomfort."You're a maniac," Lake growled, his head starting to spin.Max's playful grin faded. "Hey... are you okay?""Let go of me first," Lake muttered, his voice strained."You’re hungry. Eat," Max said, picking up the plate of steamed mushroom soup. Lake had stopped fighting and was leaning weakly against Max’s chest."Leave me alone," Lake muttered, his voice faint, but Max wasn’t moved. He scooped up some soup and brought it to his lips."Eat," Max repeated softly. Lake stayed silent, eyes closed, refusing to respond."Please," Max added, his voice quieter now, the word almost a whisper.Lake blinked, surprised by the calm but pleading tone. Slowly, he opened his mouth and let the warmth of the soup slide down his throat.Max’s eyes locked on Lake as he lazily dragged his tongue
Then Max reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind Lake’s ear. The touch sent a shiver down Lake’s spine, and without meaning to, he leaned in.“I know you probably don’t care whether I’m around or not,” Max whispered, “but I’m happy for you.”Lake’s eyes lingered on Max’s face, mesmerized.“Damn, you look good,” Max added softly, then pulled back like touching Lake any longer might burn him.He started the engine and drove off, and Lake turned to the window, a quiet, genuine smile spreading across his lips.When Max stopped in front of a grand building, Lake’s eyes widened in awe.“Whoa,” he breathed, staring at the mansion.Max grinned as he stepped out. “You look starstruck. This is my place.”He walked around and opened the door for Lake, who stepped out slowly. “This is insane. Kinda my dream house.”Max leaned closer, playful. “Marry me, and it’s yours.”The smile faded from Lake’s face. “Don’t say stuff like that. Why would I marry you?”“Why not?” Max winked.
He caught Lake just before he could fall to the ground, supporting him with one arm around his waist.Lake blinked, his vision blurry. “What the hell...” he mumbled, still disoriented.Max’s grip tightened on his waist, holding him steady. “Lake, are you okay? What just happened?”“I’m fine,” Lake muttered, though he didn’t feel fine at all. His heart raced, but the dizziness still hadn't passed. He pushed Max’s arm away, trying to regain his composure.Max didn’t let go, though. “You sure about that? You nearly passed out.”Lake tried to push him off again, but this time, his mom intervened. “Max, let him go. He needs to sit down.”Max hesitated but released his hold. Lake steadied himself with a hand on the chair, his mom’s concerned gaze following him closely.“You scared me,” his mother said softly, her voice laced with worry. “You need to take care of yourself, Lake.”“I’m fine,” Lake snapped a little too sharply, still feeling dizzy.Max crossed his arms, raising a brow. “Doesn'
Lake pushed open the door, and a nurse who had been attending to his mother stood up with a polite smile. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she said, giving Lake’s mom a quick glance before exiting the room.His mother’s eyes lit up when she saw them. “Well, you came earlier than I expected, I was even beginning to think of ways to convince you.”Lake smiled, but the tension in his posture didn’t go unnoticed. “Hi, Mom. How are you feeling today?”“I’m feeling fine,” she said, then her gaze shifted to Max. A playful grin spread across her face. “Hold on,” she said, her eyes narrowing mischievously, “you didn’t tell me your friend was this good-looking, Lake.”Lake flushed slightly, his hand instinctively rubbing the back of his neck. “Mom, stop, you are going to make his ego burst.”Max stepped forward, offering a confident smile and the bouquet of flowers he had brought. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am, I have always wanted to meet my future...”Before he could complete, Lake hit his a
Monica twirled a pen between her fingers as she waited for Spencer to return from the bathroom. The soft sound of the faucet shutting off was followed by his footsteps and then—he reappeared, casually dressed in a new outfit and then put a big old jacket over it.Her eyes darted to his jaw, then quickly away. Why did he always have to look that good? It was becoming distracting. Dangerous as she was beginning to notice too “Are you okay?” Spencer asked, noticing her flushed expression as he took his seat.Monica nodded too quickly, brushing it off.A knock cut through the air before the door creaked open and Diane peeked in. “Sir, Liam McKenzie is here to see you. Should I send him away or…?”Spencer paused, then said calmly, “You can send him in after a few minutes.”Monica’s body stiffened at the name. She stood and walked to Spencer, who was already slipping into character, putting his usual cold mask as he turned his chair to face away from the door.“You can stay in that room,”
A grin slowly tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re acting like…”Monica clamped her mouth shut, cheeks burning. Her gaze betrayed her though—it dipped to his lips, lingering just a second too long. Like they had betrayed her. Like she wanted to erase the memory of Adriana’s kiss with her own.Monica didn’t answer. She turned away, but not before he caught the ghost of a smile playing at her lips.****“Good,” the Coach called out, nodding with approval as the male model strutted confidently from one end of the hall to the other, sharp and composed.Lake stepped aside, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He grabbed a water bottle, took a long sip, and exhaled. The air inside the studio was thick with heat and tension—everyone was pushing to be flawless.After a brief moment, he tossed the bottle aside and rejoined the line, slipping seamlessly into place.Practice stretched on for another thirty minutes. The room echoed with the clack of shoes, the barked
Lake rushed into the elevator at the Mo’s Fashion Empire just before the doors slid shut. His breath came in short puffs from the quick dash, but it wasn’t just the sprint that made his pulse race.Max was already inside.Their eyes met for a brief second—sharp, loaded. Max's jaw tightened as he looked away and folded his arms across his chest. The cold shoulder was unmistakable.Lake swallowed and shifted awkwardly, glancing at the glowing floor numbers before finally gathering the nerve to speak.“Max…”No response.Lake clenched and unclenched his hands, fingers fidgeting at the hem of his shirt. The silence between them was deafening.“I know you don’t want to talk to me right now,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. “But... I really need you to come to breakfast tomorrow. With my mom.”Max didn’t move at first. Then, he let out a quiet scoff and shook his head slightly, still staring at the elevator doors."Max, please," Lake said, stepping closer as the elevator hummed sof