LOGINSleep wouldn’t come.
Ava lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the earlier threat still looping through her mind like a song she couldn’t turn off. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the message again—He won’t always be there to save you—and the cold certainty behind it. The apartment was too quiet. The city beyond the windows felt too far away. Her body was tired but her mind refused to shut down, circling the same sharp edges: the photoshoot, Jordan’s hands, Roman’s voice cutting acrosThe apartment felt different after the rooftop incident.Quieter. Heavier. Like the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting for something to break.Ava couldn’t stop replaying the elevator in her head—the way Roman had held her, the solid heat of his body locked against hers, the way his eyes had dropped to her mouth like he was one second from losing the battle he kept fighting. Every time she closed her eyes she felt his hand on her waist again, the controlled force of it, the way his fingers had pressed into her like he needed the proof that she was still there. Sleep stayed just out of reach, circling the same charged memory until the restlessness finally pushed her out of bed.It was past midnight when she walked into the kitchen for water.Roman was already there.He stood at the counter in black sweatpants and a fitted T-shirt, a glass of water in his hand. The under-cabinet lights cast sharp shadows across his face and the hard lines of his ar
The rooftop event was supposed to be simple.A brand launch party for a new luxury skincare line. Controlled guest list. Security at the elevators. Soft lighting, champagne trays, a carefully curated crowd of people who knew how to smile for cameras. Ava had done a dozen of these before. She wore a sleek black dress that hit mid-thigh, her hair down in soft waves, and she moved through the space the way she always did—poised, camera-ready, smiling like the threats didn’t exist.Roman stayed close.Closer than usual.He didn’t hover in an obvious way, but every time she shifted, he adjusted with her—always within arm’s reach, always scanning the room with that quiet, relentless attention. Maya noticed immediately when they arrived.“He’s glued to you tonight,” she murmured while they waited for Ava’s turn at the product display. “Did something else happen?”Ava forced a small smile. “Just being careful.”She didn’t mention the message from the night before
Sleep wouldn’t come.Ava lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the earlier threat still looping through her mind like a song she couldn’t turn off. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the message again—He won’t always be there to save you—and the cold certainty behind it. The apartment was too quiet. The city beyond the windows felt too far away. Her body was tired but her mind refused to shut down, circling the same sharp edges: the photoshoot, Jordan’s hands, Roman’s voice cutting across the set, the way the unknown sender seemed to know exactly when she was most exposed.At 2:17 a.m. she finally gave up.The apartment was silent when she stepped into the hallway. The hardwood felt cool under her bare feet. A soft light glowed from the living room, and the sliding door to the balcony stood half open, letting in the low, constant hum of the city. Roman stood outside with his forearms resting on the railing, shoulders tense under a plain black T-shirt. The city lights cu
The studio was already buzzing when Ava arrived with Roman at her side.Lights spilled across white cycloramas and polished concrete. Racks of designer clothes lined one wall, clipboards and coffee cups moved between half a dozen people who all seemed to be talking at once. The air smelled like hairspray, new fabric, and the faint metallic tang of equipment. Maya was already there, deep in conversation with the photographer, but she broke off the second she spotted them and crossed the floor with a grin.“There’s my star,” she said, pulling Ava into a quick hug before eyeing Roman over her shoulder. “And her shadow.”Roman gave her a short nod. His eyes were already moving—exits, windows, the number of people, the positions of the lighting stands. He didn’t like it. Too many bodies. Too many unfamiliar faces. Too many places someone could disappear into or emerge from without warning.Ava felt his presence behind her like a physical weight as she was led to
Roman had been in her apartment for less than twenty-four hours and Ava was already ready to kill him.He woke up at five the next morning. She could hear him moving through the quiet spaces of her home—the soft thud of bare feet on hardwood, the low hum of the coffee machine, the controlled rhythm of push-ups in the living room like he was still somewhere far more disciplined than a designer loft in the city. By the time she dragged herself out of bed at nine, hair a mess and eyes half-closed, he was already showered, dressed in black from head to toe, and sitting at her kitchen island with a laptop open, reviewing something she didn’t care to understand.“You’re in my seat,” she muttered, reaching past him for a mug.Roman didn’t look up. “You have four stools.”“That’s the one with the best view.”He finally glanced at her, eyes flicking briefly over her sleep shorts and the oversized band tee that barely covered the tops of her thighs before returning to the
Ava Rivers stared at the latest message on her phone until the words blurred.Unknown: You think you’re untouchable? Keep posting that perfect life. I’ll ruin it.Her stomach twisted hard enough that she almost felt sick. This was the third threat in two weeks. The first ones had been easy to dismiss—jealous comments, bitter emoji chains, the usual noise that came with having a following. This one felt different. Quieter. More personal. Like whoever was behind it already knew exactly where to press.She locked the screen and tossed the phone onto the couch, dragging both hands through her long dark hair. The apartment felt suddenly too quiet, the late-afternoon light slanting across the polished floors and the carefully styled living room she used for content. Everything looked perfect. Controlled. Safe. The message made it all feel like paper.Her phone rang almost immediately. Her father’s name flashed across the screen.She answered with a sigh that did nothin
~~ Sophia's POV~~ My fingers were already slipping between my thighs before I even turned off the lights. I’m Sophia Vale, twenty-four years old, and right now I feel like a complete mess. Six months ago, my boyfriend of three years packed his bags and left me for someone he said was “less compl
The office had been torture all day. Elena had barely been able to focus on her work. Every time she crossed her legs, she felt the lingering ache from Damien’s fingers the night before. Every time she looked up, she remembered being bent over his desk, his deep voice in her ear calling her his goo
Elena’s knees sank into the thick carpet of Damien’s luxurious office, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. She looked up at him, this man who had been the center of her forbidden fantasies for years. Her brother’s best friend. The one person she was never supposed to want. And
Elena Voss stood outside the towering Blackthorn Building, her heart hammering against her ribs. She knew she shouldn’t be here. Out of all the people who could help her family, she had chosen him — Damien Blackthorn, her older brother Ryan’s best friend since college. The man she had secretly lust







