LOGINChapter 61LyraThe silence in the car was suffocating. Tense. Thick like fog. The kind of silence that pressed down on your chest and made every second stretch longer than it should.I couldn’t take it anymore.“I’m… I’m sorry,” I whispered, the words tumbling out of me before I could think them through. I wasn’t even sure what I was apologizing for—just that the air needed to be broken, and guilt was clawing at my throat.Roman turned his head toward me, his face still tense with fury, his eyes sharper than a blade. “Why are you apologizing?” His tone was cold. Clipped. Pissed off in the most refined way possible.I swallowed, trying to keep my voice from cracking. “It’ll be everywhere tomorrow—on the tabloids, blogs, gossip columns. Your name is going to be dragged through the mud. Your reputation, Roman. What were you thinking? Why did you do it?” My hands were trembling now. “Do you really think I’d ever do something to humiliate you? Or break your trust? I was getting out of the
Chapter 60LyraThe music thumped around me like a second heartbeat, the bass pulsing through the floors and up my legs as the dancefloor flooded with bodies. Jasmine had excused herself to the restroom, leaving me with my half-finished drink and a view of reckless youth flailing under flickering lights.I leaned back in my seat, propping my chin on my hand, and let my eyes wander over the crowd. Sweat-slicked foreheads, high heels slipping off ankles, arms thrown up in the air like no one gave a damn about tomorrow. A wave of envy passed through me—how easy it looked, to be that carefree, to move like you didn’t carry the weight of the world on your back.My gaze snagged on a couple dancing particularly close in the center—just two silhouettes tangled up in the chaos. And for whatever reason, my imagination betrayed me. I blinked and pictured Roman there instead. Roman Lennox. In this very club. On this very dance floor.The idea was so ridiculous I laughed—out loud, and much too har
Chapter 59LyraThe third shot went down smoother than I expected—or maybe my tongue was just too numb to protest anymore. I slammed the empty glass on the bar with a little too much enthusiasm and let out a shaky laugh, swaying slightly as the burn settled in my chest.Beside me, Jasmine was already raising her fourth. She didn’t flinch as she threw it back like water. Not even a grimace. God, she was something else. Everything about her was striking—from her smooth, obsidian skin to the silk curtain of hair that hung down her back like it belonged in a shampoo ad. Her body was the kind that made strangers stare and models take notes, perfectly sculpted like she’d been poured into her clothes. Anthony really bagged himself a goddess.She turned toward me, her smile lazy and tipsy but still somehow dazzling. “You gonna keep up, future bride, or are we calling it a night?”I let out a giggle. “You wanna see something?” I asked, lifting my hand with exaggerated grace. The lights above c
Chapter 58LyraI had an idea but... I never thought my life would change so drastically just because of one ring on my finger.And Roman had warned me.He said the media would circle like vultures. That the engagement, though rooted in strategy, would explode into something far bigger than either of us anticipated. I believed him. But I wasn’t prepared for the sheer scale of it.My phone had been ringing nonstop since that morning. Calls from publications I never imagined would know my name. Interview requests. Feature pieces. A few even asked for exclusive rights to our wedding announcement—one I hadn’t even begun to picture yet.Then there were the messages.People I hadn’t spoken to since college were suddenly reappearing in my life, like friendly ghosts of a past I no longer recognized. Invitations to rooftop parties, private dinners, social events that had always been reserved for the upper crust of New York’s young elite. My name was now worth something—Roman Lennox’s fiancée.
Chapter 57LyraThe moment we landed in New York City, I felt it—everything was different now.Roman’s hand was wrapped around mine as we walked through the terminal, and although it felt steady, almost reassuring, I couldn’t ignore the flashing lights around us. Photographers. Dozens of them. I didn’t even know how they got access so fast. Some paparazzi were shouting his name. Not mine—his. Roman Lennox. He wasn’t a celebrity in the usual sense, but the kind of power he held attracted attention the same way fame did. He was the type of man whose every movement was watched, judged, and talked about—whose name carried weight in headlines and boardrooms alike.And now, somehow, my name was beside his.Roman was right. Image meant everything in his world, and now I was part of that image. I had to be careful. Everything we did, everything I wore, every expression I made—it could be dissected by strangers and spun into a story.When we reached the car, Roman’s driver opened the door for
Chapter 56Roman"Is something bothering you that you can’t sleep?" I asked, my tone calm but firm.I wasn’t sure if we had reached a point where she could confide in me, but I hoped we had. Lyra had opened up about Ethan Bastard Montgomery before—her rambling as candid as it was infuriating to hear. The more I learned, the more I realized there was something she deserved to know. And something Ethan needed to pay for.She glanced at me, then gave a small laugh, though it lacked any real humor. "Well, you see through me now," she said, fidgeting with her fingers. "I don’t know if you can understand, but I feel... especially after this trip, we’re going back to reality, and..." She trailed off, biting her lip."You’re scared," I said, cutting straight to the point.She exhaled deeply and nodded. "I’m scared," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze dropped to her lap, and her leg bounced restlessly. She was anxious, and I knew I wasn’t exactly the best person to comfor
Chapter 4LyraGroaning, I forced myself upright, the blanket sliding off as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The events of last night began trickling back, unspooling like a bad sitcom. Anthony. The ridiculous condition I’d thrown at him—that his boss should show up personally if he wante
Chapter 3 Lyra I stepped out of the shadows and into the glow of the streetlight and Anthony’s face lit up with relief. He looked like a man who had just spotted land after days lost at sea. His smile widened as he hurried toward me, bouquet and basket still in hand, his movements a mix of exha
Chapter 2 Lyra Sitting at the bar, I glanced down at my drink—a rich, amber-colored Old Fashioned. Classy, potent, the kind of drink that wasn’t made to be sipped but savored. Or in my case, chugged, I thought dryly as I finished off the last of it, the burn of the whiskey trailing down my thro
Chapter 1 Lyra The rumble of the train beneath me hums with a strange sort of anticipation. I glance at my suitcase beside me, the small black box hidden within it. A ring box. It’s surreal, almost, that I’m the one planning to get down on one knee—or maybe not, if I let my nerves win. I picture







