LOGINDamien found Sebastian before sunset.Not by accident.Nothing about this felt accidental anymore.The message had been simple.We need to talk.No explanation.No greeting.Just an address.Sebastian almost ignored it.Almost.But something in him already knew—This wasn’t going to stop unless one of them faced the other directly.The rooftop bar was nearly empty.Quiet.Private.Wind cutting softly through the open space.Sebastian spotted Damien immediately.Standing near the railing.Hands in his pockets.Looking out over the city like he owned it.Like he owned everything.Including her.Sebastian’s jaw tightened as he approached.“You picked a dramatic location.”Damien didn’t turn right away.“You came.”“I’m here to make one thing clear.”That made Damien glance over.Cold eyes.Controlled expression.“Then we’re here for the same reason.”Sebastian stopped a few feet away.No handshake.No civility.Just tension.Heavy.Immediate.“You need to stop,” Sebastian said first.Dam
Astrid almost didn’t answer.Her phone rang once.Twice.Three times.Sebastian’s name glowed across the screen, steady and patient.She stared at it longer than she should have.Then finally—She answered.“Hello?”Silence for a second.Then his voice.Soft.Careful.“Astrid.”Something inside her loosened instantly.Not completely.But enough.“You called earlier,” she said quietly.“I know.”She closed her eyes briefly.“I was busy.”The lie felt weak.Sebastian didn’t call her out on it.Instead, he asked gently, “Can I see you?”Astrid hesitated.Her eyes drifted across the room—the unopened gifts, the flowers beginning to wilt slightly in the vase, the expensive things Damien kept leaving behind like proof that he was everywhere.“Yes,” she whispered.They met by the lake just outside town.Neutral ground.Away from the house.Away from Damien.The evening air was cool, the water still, reflecting the fading light.Sebastian was already there.And when he saw her—He didn’t smil
ASTRIDThe shift wasn’t subtle anymore.It was overwhelming.It started the next morning.A box sat at the edge of Astrid’s bed.Neatly wrapped.Too neatly.She frowned, walking closer like it might explode if she touched it wrong.“Damien?” she called.No answer.Her fingers hesitated before untying the ribbon.Inside—A dress.Soft, elegant, expensive.Exactly her taste.Her stomach tightened.Not because she didn’t like it.But because he knew she would.Behind her, his voice came quietly.“You used to like that color.”Astrid turned sharply.“I don’t remember telling you that.”“You didn’t.”That didn’t make it better.“Then how—”“I pay attention.”The words weren’t meant to sound heavy.But they did.Astrid closed the box slowly. “I don’t want gifts.”“You didn’t say that was a boundary.”Her jaw tightened. “I’m saying it now.”A pause.Then—“Noted.”Too easy.Too calm.That should’ve been the end of it.It wasn’t.By afternoon—Another box.Jewelry this time.Simple.Beautiful
The shift didn’t happen all at once.It built.Quietly.Carefully.Like Damien had decided—if he couldn’t pull Astrid toward him…He would remove everything pulling her away.Astrid noticed it in pieces.A canceled meeting.A missed call.Then another.Sebastian wasn’t the type to disappear.Not like this.She stood by the window, her phone pressed to her ear, listening to it ring… and ring… and ring.Nothing.Her chest tightened.“Why isn’t he picking up?” she muttered.Behind her, Damien’s voice came calm.“Maybe he’s busy.”Astrid turned sharply. “He’s not.”A pause.Then her eyes narrowed slightly.“Did you do something?”Damien didn’t react.Didn’t even blink.“I said I wouldn’t interfere with who you talk to,” he replied.“That’s not an answer.”“It is.”Her grip tightened around her phone. “Damien—”“I haven’t touched him,” he added, his tone steady.Not a lie.But not the truth either.And something in Astrid felt that.By evening—Her patience snapped.She grabbed her keys.“
The days didn’t pass.They pressed.Every hour in that house felt like something tightening around Astrid—quietly, steadily—waiting for her to slip.And she almost didn’t.Almost.It started small.Too small to notice at first.Astrid was in the living room, scrolling through her phone, trying—failing—to focus on anything that wasn’t Damien’s presence somewhere in the house.A message came in.Sebastian.“Can I see you today?”Her chest softened instantly.Safe.Simple.She typed back: “Yes.”That should’ve been it.But when she stepped outside—Damien was already there.Leaning against the car.Waiting.Her steps slowed. “What are you doing?”“I’m driving you.”“I didn’t ask you to.”“I know.”Her brows furrowed. “Then don’t.”Silence.Then—“You’re going to see him,” Damien said.Not a question.Astrid’s grip tightened around her phone. “That’s none of your business.”“It is if you’re still my wife.”The words hit harder than they should have.“Only on paper,” she snapped.His gaze
ASTRIDThe papers sat between them.Clean.Final.Terrifying.Astrid stared at the signature line like it was both her freedom… and something she didn’t fully understand yet.Damien stood across from her, calm—too calm—watching her reaction like he had already anticipated every thought running through her mind.“You wanted this,” he said quietly.Astrid swallowed.“Yes.”Her voice didn’t shake this time.Because she meant it.“I’m ready to sign.”A small pause.Then Damien reached forward—slowly—and placed his hand over the papers.Stopping her.Astrid’s brows furrowed. “What are you doing?”“I’ll sign,” he said.Relief flickered in her chest—too quickly.Because the next words killed it.“But not for free.”Her stomach tightened.“This isn’t a negotiation,” she said immediately. “It’s a divorce.”“It’s both.”His tone was calm. Certain.Controlled.Astrid shook her head, stepping back slightly. “No. You don’t get to bargain with my freedom.”Damien’s gaze didn’t waver.“I already am.
Taylor’s POVThe night air felt heavy, thick with the scent of rain — and something else I couldn’t quite name. Maybe fear. Maybe the kind of anticipation before a truth you don’t want to face.I stood on the east balcony, the pendant clenched in my hand. Its soft glow pulsed against my skin like
By the third week, I’d learned the rhythm of this place—how it moved and breathed.The guards swapped shifts just before dawn, eyes heavy, boots scraping the floor, too tired or too jaded to care about anything that didn’t scream. The nurse who slipped me those tiny folded notes always passed my do
Taylor's POV I'd watched her long enough. Celeste, so radiant and poised, had this effortless way with Damien that I'd never managed. Every laugh, every little tilt of her head, every soft whisper seemed to pull him further into her orbit. And I could feel it, that pull. I hated it, feared it, yet
Taylor’s POVI didn’t sleep that night. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw that faint blue glow from Celeste’s pendant — and I kept thinking about how her scent had shifted, soft but familiar, like a song I’d once known by heart and somehow forgotten.By the time the sky began to pale, the thought i







