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Old flames

作者: Dami Yan
last update 公開日: 2026-08-08 03:31:13

Chapter 27.

The editing studio no longer resembled a classroom.

It resembled a battlefield but Skye barely noticed any of it. Her eyes burned from staring at photographs for so many hours that every image had begun to blur together.

"Page fourteen..." she muttered under her breath. "No... page fourteen was better before." She dragged another file into the layout, deleted it, added another, deleted that one too.

Her new supervising editor, Professor Hoffmann, stood quietly behind her chair with
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    Chapter 27.The editing studio no longer resembled a classroom. It resembled a battlefield but Skye barely noticed any of it. Her eyes burned from staring at photographs for so many hours that every image had begun to blur together."Page fourteen..." she muttered under her breath. "No... page fourteen was better before." She dragged another file into the layout, deleted it, added another, deleted that one too.Her new supervising editor, Professor Hoffmann, stood quietly behind her chair with a tablet tucked under one arm. Unlike Professor Vogel, the woman didn't bark criticism or enjoy watching students squirm. She simply watched the work with sharp, experienced eyes. After several moments, she nodded. "I've reviewed the entire calendar."Skye slowly turned around. Professor Hoffmann adjusted her glasses and offered something Skye hadn't expected. "You've done excellent work."For a second Skye genuinely wondered if she'd misheard. "Excuse me?""I said you've done excellent work."

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    Chapter 26.Kai Sturm had never understood why people made such a fuss about celebrations. Birthdays, anniversaries, promotions, holidays… to him they'd always been noisy interruptions to otherwise productive days, requiring decorations, speeches, photographs no one would look at twice, and conversations with people pretending to enjoy themselves. If something deserved celebrating, he believed it should be acknowledged with a firm handshake and everyone should return to work.It had been a philosophy that served him well for years, well, until Skye.Now, standing in the middle of his private club before sunrise, staring at an empty room that somehow refused to resemble the picture in his head, Kai found himself irritated over the placement of flowers.Flowers. He looked at them for a long moment before pointing toward the nearest club member. "They're wrong."The young biker arranging them blinked. "Wrong?""They're too neat."The man looked completely lost. "They're flowers, they're

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    Chapter 23.Skye smoothed her shirt with trembling fingers, took a breath, centered herself, and pulled open the door. Lena stood there, a whirlwind of colorful fabric and oversized earrings, already halfway through a sentence. "I’m telling you, the lighting in the west wing is absolute garbage this time of year, and if we don't…"Lena stopped mid-stride. Her gaze locked onto the man sprawling, well, now sitting properly on Skye’s sofa. Her jaw dropped, her handbag slipping an inch down her arm. The silence stretched,, as Lena looked from Kai’s leather jacket to Skye’s flushed cheeks.Skye shot her friend a look that could have frozen boiling water. It was a silent, desperate plea: *Do not say a word.*Kai shifted, his movements slow and predatory. He sensed the

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