Show this book some love guys!
°ADRIAN° She just stared at me. Unblinking. Unmoving. The only sign that she was still breathing was the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest. And then—suddenly—she yanked her hands away. Moving back. “Serena—” “No. No, Adrian.” She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “Give me a moment.” A moment. I wasn’t sure if I should. Because a moment could turn into an eternity. Because if I gave her that space, she might step too far away. And never come back. I could already see it—the way she held herself, like a breath held too long, ready to collapse or escape the second I let go. What if this was the moment she decided I wasn’t worth the fight? What if she finally saw me the way I saw myself—too broken, too uncertain, too much of a coward to say the things she needed to hear? My chest tightened. I was afraid she would run. From me. From whatever this was. From the weight of everything I couldn’t give her. Her lips parted, a shuddered b
°SERENA° "Never again," he said, pressing his forehead against mine. And just like that, I trusted him again. This time, I only hoped he wouldn’t break me. His lips moved against my skin—soft, lingering kisses, pecking every inch of my face. Heat bloomed beneath his touch. My skin burned—too hot, too aware. "I want you in my life, Serena. Not just for now. Not just for this moment. Forever." His voice trembled slightly, but there was no hesitation—only certainty. A lump formed in my throat, a strange mix of relief and disbelief tightening my chest. I had spent so long doubting, questioning, building walls of my own, but at that moment, every one of them crumbled. There were no more secrets, no more unspoken fears. Just him. Just us. For the first time in what felt like forever, I let go. The fear, the doubt, the weight of everything I had held onto for so long—it all melted away. All that remained was the warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his breath against
°ADRIAN° I pulled away from her lips and pressed slow, measured kisses across her face—her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. Each touch was controlled, deliberate, a contrast to the storm building inside me. I wasn’t a man prone to tenderness, but with her, restraint came second to the quiet reverence I couldn’t suppress. Then, carefully, I tugged at her clothes, slow and deliberate, giving her time to process, to stop me if she wanted. She didn’t. Her breath hitched as she slipped her arms out of her dress, her chest rising and falling in quick, uneven waves. A flush crept up her neck, her skin warm beneath my fingertips. She’s scared—I can see it in the way her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, in the way her lashes flutter as she looks away, her lips parting in a silent breath. I can feel it in the tremble of her body, the hesitant press of her hands against my chest, as if seeking something solid to hold on to. But she doesn’t pull away. She’s still h
°ADRIAN° She looked up at me, confusion flickering in her wide eyes, a slight crease forming between her brows at my sudden halt. The warmth of her body beneath mine, the rise and fall of her chest, the way her fingers gripped my shoulders—it all made stopping feel impossible. But I forced myself to breathe, to rein in the urgency thrumming through my veins. I gave her a small, almost rueful smile, brushing my knuckles along her flushed cheek. “I don’t have any protection, and I know you’re not on the pill…” My voice was low, edged with restraint, though the tension in my body betrayed just how much control it took to say those words. Realization dawned in her eyes, her face flushing a deeper shade of rose. Her lips parted slightly, a shaky breath escaping as she processed my words. “So… what should we do?” she asked, her voice softer now, uncertain yet laced with something deeper. I exhaled, steadying myself. “We can get a Plan B pill if you're okay with that… or we can stop
°SERENA° I woke up feeling tired all over, my muscles aching, a dull soreness settling deep in my bones—and a heavy arm wrapped around me. Warm. Solid. Blinking against the golden morning light filtering through the curtains, I stirred slightly, and the arm around me tightened. A deep, sleepy groan rumbled against my ear. “Not yet,” Adrian mumbled, his voice husky from sleep, lips brushing against the back of my neck. I stiffened, my breath catching. Last night came rushing back like a flood, each moment sinking into my skin. My pulse thrummed at the memory, and suddenly, the sheets felt too warm. I turned my head slightly and met Adrian’s dark gaze, already open, already watching me. His hair was a tousled mess, and there was something lazy, something entirely too smug, about the way his lips curled at the corners. Heat flooded my face. I looked away, pretending to find the ceiling very interesting. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. I swal
°ADRIAN° "What?" She looked at me, confused, as I stepped closer. I didn’t answer. Instead, I tangled my fingers into her hair, pulled her flush against me, and claimed her lips in a slow, deep kiss—tantalizing, unhurried. I could kiss her all day and never get bored. When I finally pulled back, giving her space to breathe, her lips were slightly swollen, her lip balm completely ruined. My thumb traced her lower lip, savoring the way her breath hitched. "That’s what," I murmured. "Adrian, this is a public place," she whispered, but she didn’t step away. I smirked. "Still, you loved it." Right then, my phone buzzed. A flicker of irritation ran through me—until I saw the caller ID. Fred. I unlocked my phone. "Adrian, come back now. It’s gonna blow your damn mind." This fucker. "I have to go," I said, stepping back. Serena frowned. "What’s wrong?" "Nothing," I replied quickly, already shifting into gear. "I'll pick you up later. Don’t go anywhere." She didn
°SERENA° Damn right. The moment I stepped outside, the first thing that greeted me was Adrian’s car—sleek, imposing, and impossible to miss. And then there was Adrian himself, standing with his back to us, radiating authority and dominance. His presence alone was enough to send a few students scurrying out of the way. Did the intimidation just roll off him in waves? "Oi, let’s go to our café," Nina called, pulling me from my thoughts. I blinked at her, pressing my lips into a thin line. "Well… my ride’s already here." She frowned. "I don’t see that cute guy." I sighed. "My husband’s here." "What?! What?!" she shrieked before whipping her head to follow my gaze. I groaned internally. Nina and Adrian. God, save me. "Oh my God, I have to see him! Come on!" She practically dragged me toward Adrian, her excitement making it seem like I was the outsider in this situation. Adrian turned the second we got close, then faced us fully, his sharp gaze settling on Nina with mi
°VICTOR° "Open your eyes, slut," my mother spat, her voice slicing through the stale air like a whip. Cassandra lay sprawled on the cold marble floor, her body limp, the last traces of the sedative still weighing her down. "Mom, she's still drugged," I said, rolling my shoulders. "She should’ve been up by now," she snapped, tapping her manicured nails against the armrest. "But I suppose she’s just that useless." "Relax. She’s with us now—" A sharp gasp tore from Cassandra’s lips. Her fingers twitched, brows pulling together. Then—her lashes fluttered open. For a moment, confusion clouded her gaze. Her pupils dilated, her breathing erratic as she fought to focus. Then, realization struck. "Victor…" Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, but drenched in something raw—hope. Pathetic. She reached for me, but I shifted, just enough for her fingers to miss. "You're finally awake," I murmured, tilting my head as if observing something delicate. Something fragile. An
°ADRIAN° I don’t know why I’m hesitating. Yet here I am—standing in front of an apartment door in New York, fingers hovering over the bell like it's wired to blow. The city hums behind me: impatient taxis, a distant dog barking, someone arguing on the phone. Life’s moving. I’m not. It’s been a week since the dust began to settle. Since the sirens faded, the courtrooms emptied, and the scars—visible and not—started to ache less. Evelyn lost it when she learned about Victor’s death. She screamed. Threw accusations like knives—mostly at Serena. But Fred pulled the video off my phone, and the forensics backed it. Evelyn had to face the cold, hard truth. Serena didn’t kill him. And she had only herself to blame. On sentencing day, Timothy limped into the courtroom—bruised, battered, but breathing. He dropped to his knees, hands trembling, begging to be forgiven. I thought I’d feel something—rage, disgust. But like my gold-digging little firecracker said, there’s nothing left to
°SERENA° I think I’m waking up. Or maybe not. It’s weird. Everything feels... distant. Like I’m stuck underwater, and the world’s still moving above but I can't reach it yet. My arms weigh a ton. My chest hurts. My throat’s dry. Something beeps near my ear like it owns the damn place. There’s a voice. Low. Familiar. My heart kicks — slow and out of rhythm. God. That voice. Adrian? I can’t move. I can’t see. But I feel something… warm. Pressure on my hand. Soft. He’s here. Why? "I thought if I kept you away…” It’s his voice, yeah. Just—cracked at the edges, like he hasn’t slept in weeks. “…you’d be safe…” I tried to move, to reach — but nothing obeyed. Still, the voice kept going, as if speaking to the space between us. “I love you so much it… it fucking terrifies me.” Something in me cracks. Because I knew. I always knew. He just couldn’t say it before. God. You’re a heartless fool, Adrian. And I’m the idiot who still wants to hold your hand. I force my eyes open
°ADRIAN° “Serena!” Her body crumpled to the ground like a lifeless doll, a soft thud that shattered the world around me. Panic tore through me — raw, blinding. Was she shot? Was she— “Fuck!” I dropped to my knees, gravel biting into my palms as I scooped her limp form into my arms. Her skin was cold, too cold, her head lolling helplessly against me. I patted her cheeks, desperate, frantic. “Serena. Serena—” No response. Not even a twitch. Blood roared in my ears, drowning everything else. "Fred!" I twisted around, searching— There. Staggering toward me, blood soaking the cloth wrapped around his hand. “What the fuck happened to you?” I barked, clutching Serena tighter. He pressed a shaking hand to his side, blood slick between his fingers. A breathless, humorless laugh escaped him. “Your little wife,” he rasped. My heart lurched. I turned — Cassandra. Lying there. Still. Lifeless. A fresh wave of horror slammed into me. She saved us. She didn't deserve this. I
°SERENA° I was pushed aside suddenly, my body jerked violently into some kind of wall… The sound of the gunshot still rang in my ears, sharp and disorienting. My vision blurred for a second. My body throbbed where I’d hit the wall — my shoulder scraped raw against the stone. Voices were shouting, echoing, overlapping — but I couldn’t make out any of it. My hands scrambled against the floor to push myself up. Dust clung to my fingers. My heart was slamming against my ribs. And then I saw her. Cassandra. She stood just a few feet away — or was she swaying? Her hands were pressed to her abdomen, but blood was already seeping fast through her fingers, thick and dark, running down her arms, staining the hem of her top. Her breathing was ragged. No. No, no. “What the hell—” I whispered, barely able to move. She had stepped between us and Victor. She’d taken the bullet. “Cassandra!” “Cassandra!” Fred and I shouted at the same time. The panic in his voice mirrored min
°SERENA° “SERENA!” Cassandra’s scream rang through the cold stone halls, but before I could answer, rough fingers latched onto my arm—tight, urgent. I knew from the grip, from the sheer force, that it was a man. Instinct took over. I clenched the small knife she’d slipped into my hand earlier, spun, and slashed hard. My blade met flesh, and a choked gasp followed. Warm blood sprayed across my skin. A vein. I’d aimed for it. This would weaken Victor. It had to. We needed just enough time— “Ah… Serena!” That voice. My heart skipped and I turned sharply, breath caught in my throat. “Fred?” I gasped. His eyes were wide with pain, his hand clutched tight, blood flowing between his fingers like a river he couldn’t stop. My stomach dropped. Shit. What have I done? “Shit! Why did you grab me?” I was at his side before I finished speaking, panic clawing at my throat. He winced, and I didn’t wait—I tore a strip from my shirt, the fabric protesting with each tug. My f
°SERENA° Victor didn’t respond to my insult. Not with words. Just his eyes—sharp as shattered ice, cold as steel, burning with fury. He stared at me like I was the last stain on his empire, and he was ready to scrub me off the face of the world. But only if staring could kill. “I’ll let you think about obedience,” he muttered, snatching up his phone. “Maybe the next time I walk through that door, you’ll have learned your place.” He turned. Walked. The door creaked—slow, deliberate. Then slammed. The sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. And then, silence. Not peace. Never peace. But a tense, eerie quiet clung to the air like smoke after a blaze—thick, choking, haunted. Still, for the first time since I was dragged into this nightmare, I wasn’t afraid of the silence. I welcomed it. I exhaled—slow, shaky. My lungs trembled like they were just relearning how to breathe, my chest sore as if someone had punched the life out of me and left behind an ache n
°SERENA° I woke up with a sharp jolt, my head dizzy and heavy, as if it had been struck by a hammer. My eyes fluttered open, but the world spun in a blur. Where am I? Last I remembered, I was with Tim. We were supposed to go to Nina’s house. I could still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, the laughter in the air as we joked about old memories... But now? Now, I was here. I blinked, trying to adjust to the dim light filtering through cracked windows. The room smelled musty, like damp wood and stale air. My fingers tingled from the tightness of the ropes around my wrists, and my legs were bound just as tightly to the legs of the chair. The cold wood beneath me seemed to seep through my clothes, making my skin crawl. How did I end up here? Why am I here? Panic started to claw at my chest as I tugged at the ropes, the rough fibers scraping against my skin. My heart hammered in my chest, every beat a reminder that I was trapped. I tried to recall how I got to this hellish p
°ADRIAN° "Yes. And it begins with—" My phone rang. A shrill, stabbing sound that cut through the room like a blade. I stopped mid-sentence, breath caught mid-chest. Fuck. Annoyed, I pulled it from my pocket—half-ready to snap at whoever dared to— Then the world dropped out from under me. Victor’s face filled the screen. Smiling. No—grinning, smug and twisted, like he’d won a game I didn’t even know we were still playing. His eyes sparkled with something feral, something unholy. Then the camera tilted. My heart turned to stone. Serena. Tied to a chair. Hair clinging to her face, her lips cracked, trembling. A bruise darkened one cheek—deep, fresh. Like someone had slammed their palm across her face. "Adrian..." she whispered. And I couldn’t breathe. Air wouldn’t come. My lungs were locked in ice. He hit her? HE FUCKING HIT HER? My hands clenched around the phone, trembling with barely controlled violence. I could feel the heat rise up my neck, my chest—
°EVELYN° Adrian Royce. The Royce heir stood before me—just as he had five years ago—unflinching, unreadable, and devastatingly composed. But he wasn’t the same boy I once pitied. No. That shattered boy with a broken spine was long gone. In his place stood a man carved from silence and sharpened by betrayal. And in his eyes, I saw every secret I thought I had buried claw its way back to the surface. Was this the reckoning I had feared? The collapse of everything I had built with blood, deception, and a twisted kind of love? He didn’t speak. Just walked in with the quiet arrogance of someone who owned the air I breathed—like he knew exactly what it cost me to stand tall. Behind him, that bastard friend of his carried the file—that file—the one that should’ve remained ash and dust. Five years of silence, and still, Adrian found a way to exhume the corpses I buried with trembling hands. I shouldn’t have arranged his marriage. Not to Serena. It was Anna who was meant for