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Fourteen.
Last Updated:
2025-12-17 15:26:13
Latest chapter
Sinfully yours Thirty.
~Olivia~That was the first thing I noticed when the sky began to lighten—not exhaustion, not dreams, but the way my thoughts had been pacing all night like something trapped.Lucian’s words still clung to me.The letter.The silence.My room felt unfamiliar, like it had shifted slightly when I wasn’t looking. The curtains stirred with the breeze from the open window, moonlight thinning into early dawn.I should have closed it.I knew that the moment I heard it.A sound—not loud, not sudden. Just… wrong.Fabric brushing against brick.A careful inhale that wasn’t mine.My body froze before my mind caught up.Someone was in my room.I sat up slowly, heart slamming so hard it hurt, my gaze snapping to the window just as a shadow detached itself from the dark.“Don’t scream,” a voice whispered.I sucked in a breath anyway.Rowan.He crouched on the windowsill like he’d done this a hundred times before, one hand gripping the frame, the other raised in a placating gesture. His hair was mes
Sinfully yours Chapter-Nine.
~Olivia~The house doesn’t settle after truths come out.I go out after sunset.Not to escape—but to remember.The air is cooler near the old café by the river. It’s where I used to come before everything became layered and sharp and complicated. Before I learned that silence could bruise worse than words.I don’t expect to see Rowan.That’s a lie.I always expect him.He’s leaning against his car like he hasn’t aged a day—hands in pockets, posture casual, smile already forming like he’s been waiting for this exact moment. Like time paused just long enough for him to step back into my life without consequence.“Still walk like you’re arguing with the ground,” he says.I stop short. “Still talk like you’re entitled to my attention?”He grins. Same grin. Dangerous because it knows me.“Missed you too.”I should leave.Instead, I cross my arms. “What do you want, Rowan?”He straightens, expression shifting—not serious, but quieter. “To see if you’re real.”I scoff. “That’s pathetic.”“Ye
Sinfully yours Twenty-Eight.
~Lucian~There are some silences that rot.They don’t scream, don’t shatter glass or slam doors. They sit. They breathe. They wait—until you forget they’re there, until one day you realize they’ve eaten through everything you were trying to protect.That was how the house felt after the letter went missing.Quiet in a way that was wrong.I noticed it the morning after Olivia had been in my study.Not because anything was disturbed—she was careful, she always had been—but because the drawer didn’t feel right when I opened it. There’s a difference between a drawer opened by time and one searched by intent.The folder was still there.The envelope was still there.But it had been touched.My chest tightened, sharp and irrational, the way it always did when I realized she’d been closer to the truth than I’d allowed. Closer to me.I stood there longer than necessary, fingers resting against the edge of the desk, eyes fixed on the cream-colored envelope as if it might open itself and confes
Sinfully yours Twenty- Seven.
~Olivia~I was still drying my hair when the sound of the door clicking echoed softly like someone stepped inside, I shoved it off thinking it was Diane ready to chit chat with me again like she always does when she's getting bored.So I turned off the dryer, setting it aside as I walked of of the bathroom only to find Lucian sitting at the corner of the room, half covered in the shadows like he belonged there—legs crossed. I stood a little surprised and half expecting him to be here. He stood up, pushing himself off the sofa making slow— painfully deliberate steps to me.My knees wobbled with ever step, but I forced myself not to show it. Straightening my spine, head raised in a defiant stare as I held his eyes, his on the other hand was lazy— Like he wasn't even trying, the ground bending to his will.“What do you want now?” I hissed, brows knitting together. He ignored me stepping even closer until he was right in front of me, but taller of course. “Why? Don't you like that I am fi
Sinfully yours Twenty-Six.
~Olivia~ The house felt different the morning my mother left. Not empty—just… rearranged. Like furniture had been moved while I slept, and my body hadn’t caught up yet. I stood at the bottom of the staircase, one hand resting on the banister, listening to the low murmur of voices coming from the sitting room. My mother’s voice floated out first—light, efficient, already halfway gone. She always did that when she traveled. Detached herself early, like she was afraid staying emotionally present would make leaving harder. Lucian’s voice followed. Calm. Measured. The same tone he used when correcting staff or discussing schedules. Not warm, not cold—just controlled. I inhaled slowly and stepped forward. My mother looked up immediately. “Olivia, sweetheart. Perfect timing.” She was dressed in a cream travel suit, sunglasses already perched on her head though the sun hadn’t fully risen. Her suitcase stood upright beside the couch, pristine and expensive. Everything about her departur
Sinfully yours Twenty-Five
~Olivia~ I didn’t go home right away. I walked. Past streets I knew too well, past cafés filled with laughter that felt too loud, past shop windows reflecting a girl I barely recognized. My headphones stayed around my neck, unused. I didn’t trust music not to make everything worse. Rowan’s voice wouldn’t leave my head. This what you’ve been up to lately? I clenched my jaw and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets, nails digging into my palms. He didn’t get to do that. He didn’t get to see me unravel and act like he understood. He didn’t get to mock me like I hadn’t already been humiliating myself long before I stepped into that shop. But the worst part? He wasn’t wrong. I was frustrated. I was restless. I was spiraling. Lucian’s distance had carved something hollow inside me. It was subtle at first — the absence of his presence, the way the air felt less charged when he entered a room. No tension. No sharp glances. No moments that made my heart stutter. Just politeness.
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