LOGINThe sun hadn't even cleared the skyline when the locks on my door clicked.Four women marched in…They wore sharp, black blazers and carried silver cases that looked like surgical kits. In the center of them stood a woman in a red silk wrap dress. She didn't look at me….She looked at the room, her nose wrinkled as if she could smell the public ward I’d just come from.“Is this it?” she asked. Her voice was like a thin blade.“This is Miss Hayes, Tira,” one of the stylists said.Tira finally turned her gaze to me. Her eyes were dark, polished, and entirely vacant of heat. She was the woman from the photographs in the library…the one Sergei Volkov called the daughter he never had.“Darian has such strange tastes lately,” Tira said. She stepped closer, circling me.Who is she? “Stand up, Liora. Let’s see what five hundred thousand dollars actually buys these days.”I stood. My legs were heavy, but I kept my chin level.“Arms out,” the lead stylist ordered.I didn't move.“Do what she sa
The air was thick and it felt like the room was shrinking while my hand stayed heavy on Darian’s thigh…I could feel the hard muscle jumping under my palm and his breath was hitting my face in short, jagged bursts. I had him. I knew I had him because his eyes were dark and mask was melting right in front of me.He’s going to kiss me or he’s going to kill me and I don’t care which one happens first.Then, a high-pitched chime sliced through the air. It was a cold, digital sound and it made the hair on my arms stand up. The massive screen on the far wall flickered once and then it exploded into light. A blue glare washed over the table and it turned the red wine into something black and oily.Darian moved away and recoiled like I had burned him with a cigarette. He stood up so fast his chair nearly tipped over and he stepped back into the shadows."Darian."The voice was like stones grinding together. It was deep and it was old and it made my stomach turn into a knot. I looked at the scr
I was sitting in the second chair and my hand was still heavy on Darian's thigh but the air had changed. Darian wasn't looking at my dress anymore. He was looking at the wine in his glass like it held all the secrets of the world."You know," he said and his voice was casual. Too casual. "This house used to be a lot noisier. Journalists. Reporters. Always trying to dig up dirt on the Volkov name."My heart did a violent kick against my ribs. Journalist. My father was a journalist. A damn good one. One who found out too much."One in particular," Darian continued. He took a sip of wine and he didn't even look at me. "A man named Daniel Hayes. He spent years trying to write an expose on our tech acquisitions. He thought he was a hero. He thought he was uncovering some great conspiracy."Stop talking. Please stop talking."He was a nuisance," Darian said and he let out a short, dry laugh. "He was a man who didn't understand that some doors are meant to stay locked. He lost his job. He l
The servant appeared looking confused. He was holding my plate of expensive, overpriced sea bass. He looked at the far end of the table, then at me, then at Darian."Move it," I said, my voice sharp. "I’m eating here."The servant scrambled, scurrying to place the dish in front of me before disappearing as fast as he could. He probably didn't want to be in the room if something happened.I picked up my fork and took a bite. It was delicious, but I didn't care. I was too busy feeling the heat radiating off the man next to me.Darian finally turned his head but he didn't look at my face. He looked at the way I was holding my silverware. He looked at the way I chewed. He was observing me like I was a bug under a microscope, his eyes tracking every single movement of my hands.Oh, so we’re playing the observation game now?I see youI knew what he was doing. He was looking for a flaw, He was looking for the waitress or the poor girl so he could feel superior again. I decided to give him a
The mansion was a maze designed by a psychopath.I was running through the hallway and my heels were slipping on the polished floor. I was supposed to be at dinner five minutes ago but I couldn't find the damn room. Anya wasn't there to guide me and every door looked exactly the same…tall, heavy, and expensive.Where is the food in this house? I turned a corner and almost slammed into a suit of armor. I cursed under my breath. "Stupid rich house and its stupid layout," I hissed. I was sweating in the black silk dress and the journal in my waistband was digging into my skin. I finally saw a set of double doors that were slightly open. I pushed through them and I stopped.The room was huge. The table in the center was so long it looked like a literal runway for a private jet…Darian was already at the far end. He looked like a king waiting for a peasant to come beg for mercy…I didn't want to sit near him. I didn't even want to be in the same zip code as him. I marched to the very oppos
The name Elias was a literal ghost. I spent the afternoon hidden in the library, tucked behind a shelf of dusty law books where the camera couldn't quite see my hands. I searched every database I could find on the guest computer and flipped through the back of every ledger. Nothing….No Elias…. No phone record. My father’s only lead was a dead end, and it felt like the air was being sucked out of the room. Maybe he’s dead…Maybe he never existed. I shoved the journal deep into my waistband and headed back to my room before Marcus could find another reason to loom over me.The silence of my suite was broken the second I stepped inside. Mrs. Gable was there, standing like a short bitch in the center of the room. On the bed, she had laid out a dress that looked like it belonged to a nun…high neck, long sleeves, and a dusty grey color that made me want to gag. "Mr. Volkov expects you for a formal dinner tonight," she said, her voice clipping every word like a pair of shears. "Put this on







