Mag-log inContent warning: ViolenceDAMIENThe man’s face reddens almost immediately. “What is the meaning of this?” he demands, turning to Victor as if he expects him to do something about it.Victor swallows, visibly.I keep my smile in place, watching him carefully. It’s far too early for him to look this shaken. I haven’t even begun.“Are you just going to let him disrespect us like this, Mr. Hale?”“Yes, Victor,” I say, the faintest hint of mockery slipping into my tone as I glance at him. “What exactly are you planning to do about it?”I let the question sit for a moment before my gaze settles on him properly, any trace of humour draining out of it.“You’re the one who summoned me here.”The shift is immediate, and he feels it.“I told you there would be consequences if there was a next time,” I continue, lifting the box just enough for him to see it clearly.The colour drains from his face so quickly it almost amuses me.Almost.I tilt my head slightly, watching him come to the realisati
DAMIENVictor Hale isn’t a difficult man to track down.Maybe it’s the heat still burning under my skin—something close to rage. Maybe it’s the foul mood I haven’t been able to shake. Maybe it’s just who I am.I don’t leave debts unpaid.Or it could just the tracker I planted on his business phone.Either way, I find him quickly.The thought of finally letting some of this anger out sharpens my focus, steadies my steps.I check the tracker on Rhea’s car—just once.She’s leaving work.I look away.I’m not going to pretend I’m not disappointed she didn’t reach out.It only confirms what I already know.Whatever this is… it isn’t the same for her.My grip tightens around my phone.Even if I haven’t crossed her mind the way she’s consumed mine—Even if she doesn’t miss me, doesn’t feel that pull, that need to see me—I still do.And that’s the problem.This thing with her… it’s gone too far. Twisted into something I barely recognise. Something sharp enough to hurt.But I still have time.
Author’s Note: We’ve officially entered the second part of the book—thank you for staying with me on this journey. As the story progresses, the tone becomes darker and explores more difficult themes. While I will continue to include content warnings at the start of each chapter, please be aware that this section contains more intense and potentially violent material. I encourage you to read with care. Content Warning: Mentions of human trafficking. DAMIEN “The rain isn’t letting up, Prez,” Bones says carefully. Like he’s not talking to a man. Not even his boss. Like he’s standing in front of something that might snap at any second. And maybe he is. These past few days, I’ve felt wound too tight, every nerve stretched thin, like I’m one breath away from breaking something just to feel it give. It’s taken everything in me not to turn that tension on the nearest person. Not that I’ve been completely successful. Using Sebastian as target practice hasn’t been half as bad as it sou
ELARA“Is it done?”Ignacio barely drags his mouth away from the woman clinging to him, like he’s forgotten anyone else is in the room. He gives her a lazy, greasy grin and pats her hip.Dismissed.I wrinkle my nose, already looking away.The girl takes the hint, flipping her cheap extensions over her shoulder as she struts out, dragging the sickly-sweet smell of her perfume with her.God.I’ve stepped into cleaner gutters than this place.And somehow, I’m still expected to deal with him.I smooth my hands over my skirt, forcing myself to stay still. If those useless idiots at the prison had done their job properly—like I paid them to—I wouldn’t be here.I wouldn’t be anywhere near this man.From the corner of my eye, I watch Ignacio adjust his trousers, his thick fingers dragging over his stomach as he lets out a satisfied chuckle. His gaze lingers on the girl even after she’s gone, like he can still see her.Disgusting.Only when the door clicks shut does he finally look at me, irri
RHEAI’ve made up my mind.I’m going to see Damien.One quick call to Marek, and he begrudgingly confirms he’s at Oldie’s. Just hearing the name brings a wave of nostalgia I’m not ready for.Still.I’m going. And when I see him, I’ll tell him everything I’ve been thinking over the past forty-eight hours.I don’t have anything urgent today. The real workload doesn’t hit until tomorrow, so it’s now or never.It has to be today.I wait outside the Voss Atelier building, just right by the exit for Marek to pick me up, but the rain starts suddenly—heavy and relentless. Within seconds, it’s pouring so hard I can barely see through it.Traffic is going to be a nightmare.At this rate, I have no idea when Marek will get here.Anxiety twists in my chest. What if I miss Damien? What if he leaves before I get there? Knowing him, he probably already has a dozen other things lined up.I glance up at the sky.The rain pours harder, almost mocking me.I’ve been standing by the exit for what feels li
SEBASTIANI’m completely and utterly fucked.I can’t remember the last time I was this royally screwed. Actually, that’s not true. It’s probably right up there with the time a reporter caught me after I slept with some Saudi prince’s wife.Thank God for Christian covering it up. If her husband hadn’t killed me, Zayd would have been more than happy to finish the job.I also can’t remember the last time I came to this place. OLDIE’S AUTO WORKS is slapped across the top of the building in what has to be about fifty different safety violations, but I’m far too hungover to give a toss.I pull on my sunglasses and try to ignore the pounding in my head as I pay the cab and step out.At this point, I might as well sell all my cars. I’m always far too hungover to drive them anyway.I head toward the garage and lift a hand to a few of the lads hanging around outside.“Hey, Seb.”“Morning, Seb.”“What’s up, Seb?”The greetings bounce around so much I stop keeping track.Two familiar faces catch m
RHEA “Who’s Wendy Osborne?” I don’t know what I expect to see on Damien’s face, but it’s not this—his jaw locking tight, hand dragging roughly through his long hair like he’s one second from snapping. “Is she what this is about?” he mutters, voice low and edged. “Fuck, Dot… Come here.” I tense.
PRESENTRHEAI spend the rest of the day bouncing in and out of meeting rooms, approving everything from textiles to mood boards. By the time I finally get a moment to sit in my office, my head is pounding—and there’s still too much that needs fixing.Or, more accurately, too much that needs the da
RHEA “Pardon me, Ms. Ashford, but have we met before?” I let my outstretched hand fall back to my side, fingers curling awkwardly. So—no handshakes. That’s fine. His question takes a second to register, mostly because it feels oddly familiar. “I don’t believe we have.” His jaw tightens, a muscl
RHEA“Ms. Ashford? Here’s the rough draft you requested.”Liz—my new personal assistant, a title that still feels strange on my tongue—hands me a folder with a bright, efficient smile. I take it and flip through the pages.“Thanks, Liz.”Three seconds in, a headache starts to bloom. I sigh under my







