LOGINElena A subtle knock on my door jolts me from my thoughts immediately. I barely have time to think of who it might be, before assuming it’s a maid and going to open the door. I’m surprised when I find Marcus at the other end. A frown makes its way on to my face instantly. “How can I help you?” I ask, standing by the door and refusing to let him in. “Can we talk, please? Inside.” He asks. I hesitate. Whatever he has to say, he can say it here. It’s his fault we’re leaving like this. A married couple sleeping in separate rooms because the husband couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Maya was right. I really should get these people out of my house. I honestly have no idea why I hesitate every time I think about it. It’s not money. I have money. From my inheritance. Even the amount I had saved up from when I used to model. I’d be more than fine if Marcus and I get a divorce. So, why the hell haven’t I filed for one? “We can talk here. Make it fast.” “I’d prefer not to
Elena Maya shows up at twelve-fifteen, same as always, two bags of takeout swinging from her wrist and that look on her face that means she already knows something’s up before I’ve said a word. “Thai or the salad place,” she says, dropping into the chair across from my desk. “I got both because I couldn’t decide for you.” “You never decide for me. You just bring both.” “It’s called options, Elena.” She slides the Thai container across the desk because she knows it’s the one I actually want. “Now eat and talk. You’ve got that face.” “What face?” “The face.” She points a fork at me. “The one that says something happened and you’re trying to figure out how to bring it up without me losing my mind.” I don’t even try to deny it. I tell her. All of it. Maya’s chopsticks freeze halfway to her mouth. “He stopped?” “He stopped.” “On purpose?” “Mhmm,” I murmur my mouth full. “On purpose.” I stab at my noodles, more annoyed than I want to admit. “I went home and I was so —” I search
Jaxon Elena walked in wearing green. Not the kind of green that disappears into a room — deep, fitted. Whether she meant it or not, every time that door opened, I looked forward to see what she was wearing and my whole chest tightens every time like someone had cinched a belt around it. I didn’t say anything about it. I didn’t say anything about Saturday either. I was scared she’d admit she didn’t mean it if I brought it up. I couldn’t afford for that to be true. Not yet.She sat down across from me the way she always did, knees together, hands twisting at each other, restless. I noticed. I notice everything. You don’t survive as long as I have in this life by missing the small things.“So, um.” She cleared her throat. “How does this work?”“How does what work, Elena?” She looked up at me. “You and I.”“Well.” I leaned back in my chair, unhurried. “First off, if this is going to work, we’re going to need some ground rules.”“Rules?” Her brows pulled together.“Yes.” I kept it s
Elena The restaurant he chose is rooftop — open sky, string lights strung low enough that they feel close, the city laid out below like it’s been arranged specifically for tonight. Small tables, only eight of them, spaced far enough apart that if other people were here, the nearest couple would be just a blur of candlelight and soft voices. The kind of place where nobody watches you because everyone came here to not be watched. I smooth the front of my dress and pick up the menu. I tell myself I’m fine. I am mostly fine. The food comes and it’s extraordinary — lamb in a sauce I can’t name but want to memorize — and the wine is cold. The night air carries just enough bite that I’m glad I brought a wrap. Jaxon sits across from me looking like he was designed to ruin a woman’s concentration. Dark shirt, sleeves pushed to the forearm, that particular effortlessness that requires a certain confidence to pull off. I noticed it the second he picked me up and I’ve been quietly managing t
Elena’s Maya has this laugh that fills a room. Always has. Since we were young and she convinced me to sneak out of my parents’ house through a bathroom window, that laugh has been the thing that makes everything feel lighter. Easier. Like whatever is happening can’t be that serious if Maya is laughing about it. She’s laughing now, and I haven’t even gotten to the hard part yet. “Wait.” She holds up one hand, the other pressed flat to her chest like she’s trying to keep her heart from escaping. “Jaxon. Jaxon asked you out.” “Maya—” “Jaxon? Hot sexy therapist- Jaxon with the broad shoulders.” “Please don’t—” “Elena.” She grabs my wrist across the kitchen island, her nails a perfect deep burgundy against my skin. “Girl. The man is gorgeous. Like, offensively attractive. Like he should be on a billboard somewhere making women drive into telephone poles.” I pull my wrist back gently and wrap both hands around my coffee mug. It’s warm. I need something to hold onto. “He asked me
Jaxon “I’m not coming any time soon. Stop expecting anything to change.” I retort harshly over the phone. I was already too fucking stressed as it is. And the day just fucking started! Roman sent me pictures of this kid that the Syndicate sold to a governor. A fucking governor! She worked at a bar he frequented. He went there a lot under the guise of being nice. Once the Syndicate had her, they handed her over to him— because, of course a fucking government worker can’t get his hands dirty. He gets the filthy traffickers and criminal gang to do it for him. If it was left to me we’d have skinned the bastard alive and hung him by his balls. But this slimy animals are smart. They keep their hands clean. No records. And we can’t just get him to confess either, he’d rather die. But every fucker like them ends up fucking up eventually. And I’ll be there to make sure they pay for all their crimes against humanity. “But, Jaxon—“ “Bye Samantha.” I interject before ending the call. “Yo
Jaxon For some reason I had agreed with Prez when he said going to the club was a good idea. I got in the car and regretted it all the way to the Red lotus club. There was loud music, those annoying changing lights. And women…. Everywhere. Prez takes us to his usual booth, because I guess he’s a
Elena“Maya.” My voice breaks on the single syllable.“What happened, El?”“It’s- it’s Marcus,” I cry uncontrollably “That son of a bitch! I’m on my way.”She doesn’t ask questions. That’s the thing about Maya — she never needs them. Twenty minutes later she’s at my door, still in her bonnet, coat
Marcus"But Marcus, you had a vasectomy! You told me you couldn't have children!" My mother’s laughter erupts, a sharp sound that cuts through Elena’s hysterical sobbing like a blade. It’s a harsh, mocking cackle that fills the foyer, bouncing off the marble walls I paid for. I watch Elena’s face
Elena"Is this some kind of sick joke, Marcus?"My voice is a whisper, but it echoes in the cavernous silence of the foyer. My eyes are glued to the door as Kristen walks in, her heels clicking with a rhythmic, sickening confidence. She isn’t wearing the high-collared, structured lace that Marcus a







