The morning sun poured into the Carver mansion, cutting through the glass walls and turning the marble floors to gold. Somewhere down the hall, Dante’s laughter echoed faintly — he was probably teasing someone again. Cassian’s low voice hummed from his study, clipped and professional, while Leo’s office remained its usual fortress of silence.
It was a typical day in the Carver world — orderly, efficient, powerful. Except for Liana. She wasn’t calm. She’d been pacing her room for almost an hour, her heart thudding like a drum. A sketchpad lay open on her desk, pages filled with charcoal lines and vivid swirls of color — dresses, coats, silhouettes that felt like whispers of herself on paper. For days, she’d wrestled with whether she should say anything. After all, what right did she have to ask for something normal in a world built on empire and control? But last nqThe restaurant Viktor chose wasn’t one that appeared on any map. It sat on the thirty-eighth floor of a private skyscraper, accessible only by a black-coded elevator that recognized his fingerprint. The place was all glass, silver, and quiet luxury — the kind of setting that whispered danger and wealth in equal measure. Liana had told herself a hundred times she wouldn’t come. She told herself it was reckless, stupid, exactly the kind of thing her brothers warned her about. And yet, she was there. She stepped out of the elevator in a simple but striking black dress — one of her own designs, sharp and elegant, with a silver belt that caught the dim light. Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she entered the restaurant’s private section. Viktor was already there. Of course he was. He stood near the window, phone in hand, city lights spilling across his profile like a painting in motion. When he looked up a
The morning started too quietly for the Carver household. Too peaceful — the kind of peace that always came before a storm.Liana woke to her phone buzzing endlessly. Dozens of messages, missed calls, and mentions flooded her notifications. She groaned, sitting up and squinting at the screen. Then her breath caught.Every major fashion blog, celebrity site, and business magazine was talking about her.“Viktor Moretti Publicly Declares Support for Rising Designer Liana Carver.”“Mafia Lord or Guardian Angel? Viktor Moretti Funds Liana Carver’s Brand.”“Viktor Moretti Sends 3 Million Dollars to Carver Atelier — What’s the Connection?”Her hand flew to her mouth. What did he just do?Scrolling through, she found the source — a video clip from a charity gala the night before. Viktor, standing tall in his signature black suit, surrounded by cameras, had been asked about his latest “investment interest.”He smiled, cool and unb
By the time Cassian found out about Draven Dusk’s uninvited reappearance, the entire mansion was already awake. And tense.He had returned from Milan that morning, still half-dressed from travel, his phone blowing up with missed calls from Leo and Dante. But it was the short, clipped message from the head of security that made his blood turn cold:“Draven Dusk was seen at Miss Carver’s business meeting yesterday.”Cassian didn’t even bother dropping his bag before he stormed upstairs.Liana was in the breakfast room, sketching at the table, her coffee untouched. The moment she saw his face, her pencil stilled.“Cassian?”He didn’t answer right away. He took a breath — calm, measured, terrifyingly controlled. “Tell me it isn’t true.”She blinked. “What?”“Tell me that man wasn’t near you.”Her throat went dry. “He—showed up after my meeting. Just to talk. It wasn’t anything serious.”“Anything s
Morning sunlight filtered softly through the tall windows of the Carvers’ suite. Vienna looked peaceful from up here — the river glinting like liquid gold, the streets below calm and quiet. But inside, the atmosphere was anything but serene.Leo Carver stood by the window, his tie discarded, his phone buzzing endlessly on the coffee table. He hadn’t slept a wink. His mind was replaying every damn moment from last night.Draven Dusk.Aiden Cross.And his baby sister in the middle of both of them.Liana walked in quietly, barefoot, dressed in a soft cream robe, her hair tied up messily. “You’re up early,” she said, though her voice was gentle — cautious.Leo turned toward her slowly, eyes sharp. “We need to talk.”Her stomach dropped. “That bad, huh?”“Liana, what the hell were you thinking?”She crossed her arms, frowning slightly. “About what exactly?”He took a step closer. “You disappeared from my side, and when I found you again, you were outside with Draven Dusk — the man every in
The Carver mansion was unusually busy that morning. Assistants moved briskly through the hallways, carrying files, garment bags, and freshly pressed suits. Drivers waited outside. The sound of polished shoes and murmured phone calls echoed faintly in the marble foyer. Leo Carver was heading out of town — and when the eldest Carver traveled, everything had to be perfect. Liana sat at the edge of the grand staircase, watching the controlled chaos unfold with her cup of coffee in hand. She wasn’t used to seeing her brother’s business world up close like this — the suits, the urgency, the authority that followed him like a second skin. He noticed her watching. “You’re up early,” he said, adjusting his cufflinks as he came closer. “I had to see the legend before he flies off to conquer another empire,” she teased. He smirked faintly. “Flattery, Liana?” She shrugged. “Maybe I want something.” “Of course you do.” She put her coffee down and leaned forward. “I want to come with you.”
The morning after the fashion show was unusually quiet in the Carver mansion.Too quiet.Liana woke up late, sunlight already spilling through her curtains in golden sheets. Her body ached, her throat was dry, but her heart was still racing with the memory of last night — the lights, the applause, the breathtaking moment when her name had been chanted by the crowd.Her dream was finally real.Except… there had also been them.Aiden’s warmth.Draven’s intensity.Viktor’s unreadable gaze.The moment she remembered all three men standing in the same room, her stomach twisted. “Oh no,” she muttered into her pillow. “This is bad. This is very, very bad.”As if on cue, her phone buzzed with a message.> Cassian: Breakfast. Ten minutes. Study.Don’t be late.She groaned. “Great. The Carver Council has summoned me.”She dragged herself out of bed, threw on an oversized cream