LOGINEdwin’s POVThe villa in Santorini was everything Daniel had promised and more.We had arrived two days ago after a long private flight, and the moment the car had pulled up to the clifftop property, I felt something inside me unclench. Whitewashed walls glowed under the Aegean sun, infinity pools spilled toward the caldera, and the view that impossible, breathtaking view of blue sea and volcanic rock made the rest of the world feel very far away.No emails. No board meetings. No lingering shadows of Victor’s lies.Just us.I woke on the third morning to warm sunlight streaming through the open terrace doors and the distant sound of church bells drifting up from the village below. Daniel was already awake, propped on one elbow beside me, watching me with that quiet intensity that still made my heart skip.“You’re staring again,” I murmured, voice thick with sleep.“Can’t help it.” His fingers traced a slow line down my bare chest. “You look good in Greek light. Relaxed. Like you
Edwin’s POVThe weeks had started to melt into something that felt almost dangerously close to normal. Not the fragile, cautious kind of normal I had known in the old apartment, where every good day felt borrowed and every quiet moment carried the threat of collapse. This was different. Deeper. The kind of normal that came from waking up beside the same man every morning, knowing he chose you even when the world tried to tear you apart.I woke to the familiar weight of Daniel’s arm draped across my chest, his breath warm against the nape of my neck. The windows were open, letting in the soft morning breeze and the steady rhythm of waves breaking on the shore below the house. For several long minutes I simply lay there, letting myself feel it all the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart against my back, the quiet certainty that this was my life now.No more waiting for the next email. No more hiding in copy rooms. No more burning cash in the middle of the night because
Edwin’s POVThe house had become more than just walls and windows overlooking the water. It had become ours.I woke to the familiar weight of Daniel’s arm across my waist and the soft sound of waves rolling onto the shore below. Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, painting the room in warm gold. For a moment I simply breathed it in the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back, the faint scent of his skin, the quiet certainty that this was real and not some fleeting dream I would wake from.I turned slowly in his arms. Daniel’s eyes were still closed, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he knew I was watching him. I traced a finger along his jaw, feeling the light stubble. His eyes fluttered open, dark and warm, immediately softening when they met mine.“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough and intimate.“Morning.”He pulled me closer without hesitation, sliding one thigh between mine as he kissed me. The kiss started slow and deep, tongues gliding lazily togeth
Edwin’s POVThe morning light felt different now.Softer. Warmer. Like the house by the water had decided to conspire with the sun to make every new day feel like a gift instead of something I had to survive. I woke up slowly, Daniel’s body curled protectively around mine, his chest pressed to my back, one arm slung heavily over my waist. His breath was warm against the nape of my neck, steady and deep. I stayed still for a long moment, just listening to him breathe, letting the reality of where I was sink in.This was real.He was real.We were real.I turned carefully in his arms so I could face him. Daniel’s eyes were still closed, lashes dark against his cheeks, lips slightly parted. The faint morning stubble on his jaw caught the light, and I couldn’t resist reaching up to trace it with my fingertips. He stirred, a low hum vibrating in his chest before his eyes fluttered open dark, warm, and immediately soft when they focused on me.“Morning,” he murmured, voice gravelly with sl
Edwin’s POVThe sky was painted in soft pinks and oranges when I woke up. Daniel’s arm was heavy across my chest, his breath warm against the back of my neck. For a long moment I just lay there, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing and the distant crash of waves below the house. These quiet mornings had become my favorite part of the day the time before the world intruded, when it was just us and the peace we had fought so hard to earn.I turned slowly in his arms so I could face him. Even in sleep, Daniel looked strong and protective. The lines of stress that had once been etched permanently between his brows had softened over the past weeks. His hair was messy, lips slightly parted, one hand still curled possessively around my waist as if he couldn’t bear to let go even while unconscious.I traced a finger along his jaw, feeling the faint stubble. He stirred, eyes fluttering open, dark and warm the instant they focused on me.“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough and low i
Edwin's POV The days have blurred together into a relentless tide of silence and uncertainty. I move through my routine like a ghost, each step heavy with the weight of what’s been lost and what might still be coming. My mind keeps circling back to Daniel, to that final night we shared, and to the dangerous game he’s now playing. I don’t know how much longer I can keep my composure, how much longer I can hold onto the hope that he’s safe.Every time I close my eyes, I see his face the way he looked at me that night, raw and desperate, as if he knew it was the end. That memory burns into my mind with a clarity that’s almost cruel. I replay every touch, every whispered word, trying to hold onto that last fragment of what we had. It’s a fragile thing now, slipping through my fingers like sand.I sit alone in my small apartment, the only sound the hum of the city outside. The night sky is a dark canvas, stars barely visible through the haze of pollution. I stare out the window, lost in t
Edwin’s POVThe hotel suite smelled of cedarwood, expensive linen, and the faint metallic edge of anticipation that always clung to Daniel’s skin when he was in this mood.He’d booked the entire top floor of the Meridian, three bedrooms, a private terrace overlooking the river, blackout curtains al
Edwin’s POVThe black SUV idled outside the hospital entrance like a patient shadow, headlights off, engine barely audible. I’d texted Daniel the moment the night nurse confirmed Mom was resting comfortably, no change, no crisis, just the slow, relentless march of morphine and oxygen keeping her af
Edwin’s POVThe fluorescent lights in the hospital corridor buzzed like a swarm of distant insects, too steady to ignore but too familiar to truly annoy. I leaned against the wall outside Mom’s room, arms crossed tight over my chest, staring at the scuffed linoleum tiles without really seeing them.
Edwin’s POVThe desk was massive, dark walnut, polished to a mirror sheen, wide enough that Daniel could have laid me flat across it without knocking over a single pen. Instead, he bent me over the edge, chest pressed to the cool wood, arms stretched forward until my fingertips brushed the far side







