ログインJaxx's Point Of ViewThe air in the warehouse tasted like rust and old oil, a thick, stagnant soup that clung to the back of my throat and wouldn't let go. It was three in the morning, the hour when the rest of the world was dreaming of normalcy, of clean sheets and quiet rooms. But here, under the flickering, buzzing hum of a single overhead bulb, reality was a lot sharper. And a lot bloodier. My boots crunched on the grit of the concrete floor. The sound was deafening in the heavy silence, each step an announcement of what was coming. As I moved toward the center of the room, my men parted like waves, their faces masks of disciplined shadow. They knew the mood I was in.They'd learned to read the signs over the years… the set of my jaw, the deliberate slowness of my movements. They knew that for the last seven days, I hadn't been a man, I'd been a ticking time bomb with a very short fuse, and someone was about to pay the price for lighting it. I stopped in front of the chair. Elia
Graham's Point Of ViewThe silence in that sterile hospital hallway was so thick you could have choked on it. I stood there, staring at my mother, and for a split second, I genuinely checked to see if she had grown two horns right in the center of her forehead.She looked like a stranger, or maybe she just finally looked like the woman she had always been when the masks slipped.The fluorescent lights overhead hummed their monotonous tune, casting harsh shadows across her perfectly composed features. Even now, even in a hospital where her grandson had just been born, she looked ready for a board meeting, every hair in place, every expression controlled.The word scraped out of my throat, small and inadequate for the sheer absurdity of the moment. "What?"My mother didn't blink. She straightened her designer blazer, the silk rustling like the scales of a snake preparing to strike. Every movement was calculated, rehearsed. I'd seen this performance a thousand times before… the corporate
Graham's Point Of ViewThe world had already been spinning, but now it felt like someone had yanked the floor out from under my feet.I stood there, frozen, staring at the spreading puddle on the cream-colored rug. My brain, usually so quick to calculate risks and assets, had suddenly flatlined into a high-pitched ring of white noise."Right now?" I heard myself ask, my voice sounding thin and ridiculous even to my own ears. "The baby is coming... like, right now?"Lillian's head snapped up, her face a mask of sweat-slicked agony and pure, unadulterated rage. Her eyes blazed with an intensity I'd never seen before, not during our arguments."Are you blind, Graham?" she shrieked, her fingers digging into the upholstery of the chair until her knuckles turned white. "Didn't you just see the water bag break? I'm not exactly practicing for a theater production here! My God, do something!"The panic in her voice cut through my paralysis like a knife. This was real. This was happening. The t
Graham's Point Of ViewThe air in my home office felt like it was made of lead, thick and suffocating, vibrating with the frantic hum of my own desperation. I sat hunched over my mahogany desk, the surface littered with spreadsheets that felt like a death warrant. Numbers… cruel, red, uncompromising numbers, stared back at me, each one a testament to my failures.I was trying to stitch together the bleeding wounds of the Sinclair empire, desperately hunting for an investor, a savior, anyone who hadn't heard that we were currently a sinking ship. My coffee had gone cold hours ago, a bitter film forming on its surface, but I couldn't bring myself to care. The door creaked open. I didn't need to look up to know who it was. The rhythmic, heavy gait, the soft sigh of expensive silk, it was Lillian. Even her footsteps sounded tentative now, as if she were approaching a wounded animal. "You've been in here all day, Graham," she said, her voice soft, almost melodic, as she walked in. She wa
Elena's Point Of View I sat there on the velvet cushions, the fabric feeling like sandpaper against my raw skin. Opening my eyes, I felt the salt from my tears making the bright office lights sting like a thousand tiny needles. Each blink brought fresh discomfort, but I couldn't look away from Lexy. Her question hung in the air like a thick, suffocating fog, demanding an answer I wasn't sure I could give. "Now that you say it..." I started, my voice cracking… a jagged sound in the silent room. The words caught in my throat, fighting against the truth I'd been avoiding. I furrowed my brows, trying to force my brain to work through the trauma, to piece together fragments that had never quite fit. My hands trembled in my lap, fingers twisting together in a desperate attempt to ground myself. "It's true. It doesn't make sense." I drew a shaky breath, feeling it rattle through my chest. "I mean, number one… the names, Lex. They don't even share the same last name. It's Graham Sincla
Elena's Point Of ViewThe cold marble floor of my office was the only thing keeping me grounded as my world performed a slow, sickening tilt. I sat there, huddled against the heavy oak door, my expensive silk blazer bunched up around my elbows as I sobbed into my sleeve. The fabric was already soaked, a damp, pathetic testament to my shattered composure. My throat burned with the kind of raw, jagged ache that only comes from screaming into your own palms, from trying to muffle the sound of your own breaking.With trembling fingers, I reached for my phone. The screen blurred through a thick veil of salt and mascara, the icons swimming like fish in murky water. I didn't even have to look for the contact, muscle memory guided my thumb. I dialed Lexy. She picked up on the very first ring, her voice bright and annoyingly cheerful, full of the kind of life I felt had just been violently sucked out of me."Hello, babe! God, finally! How was the big romantic getaway with Jaxx?" Lexy's voice
Elena’s Point Of View“Let him go, Jaxx,” I said clearly, every syllable deliberate, sharp enough to cut through the air between us. “Else I won’t talk to you agan.”Silence.Not the comfortable kind. Not the awkward kind either.The dangerous kind.He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even loosen t
Elena's Point Of View The moment stretched… taut, electric, dripping with anticipation, as his fingers traced the curve of my spine, slow, deliberate, possessive. A shiver racked my body, my skin prickling under his touch, my breath hitching as he stepped closer, the heat of him searing my bac
Elena’s Point Of ViewThe dream was so good… so perfect, that I never wanted to wake up.I was floating, weightless, wrapped in warmth and the kind of bliss that made my toes curl and my breath hitch. The air smelled like him… like sandalwood and sin, like the kind of danger that made my pulse race
Elena’s Point Of ViewThen he pouted.Actual. Pouted.Like a child.His lower lip jutted out, his brows furrowing just slightly, his hand stilling between my legs. “But my little guy…” He shifted his hips, and oh God, I could feel him… hard, thick, pressing against my thigh. “... is also complaining







