Chapter 1

ZARA’S POV

I pushed open the apartment door, my overnight bag was still hanging from my shoulder. The place was quiet. A little too quiet if I might. Marcus was supposed to be at work, but his car was parked downstairs. I smiled a little. Maybe he came home early to surprise me.

“Marcus?” I called, kicking off my heels. “Baby, I’m back.”

No answer.

I dropped the bag on the couch and walked down the hallway. That was when I heard it, low moans. I slowed my steps down to listen in.

“Ohhh fuck, baby… yeah, that feels so fucking good.”

My stomach dropped. The voice was Nadia’s. My half-sister. The same Nadia who cried on my shoulder when Victor went cold. The same one I shared late-night talks with about boys and dreams.

I stopped right outside the bedroom door. It was half open. I didn’t want to look, but my hand pushed it anyway.

There they were.

Marcus was on his back, and his hands gripped Nadia’s waist. She was riding him hard, her head thrown back, hair was messy, her mouth was open as she moaned again.

“Oh yeah…just like that.”

Marcus groaned, thrusting up into her. “Fuck, Nadia, you feel so good.”

My legs felt weak. I stood there, frozen, watching the two people I loved most in this world fuck each other like I didn’t exist. Nadia’s breasts bounced with every move. While Marcus’s fingers dug into her skin the way they used to dig into mine.

Nadia opened her eyes and saw me.

She gasped. “Zara—”

Marcus turned his head quickly and his face immediately drained of colour. “Shit. Zara, it’s not—”

I didn’t scream or cry. At least not yet.

I just walked to the nightstand, pulled off my engagement ring, and set it down gently. The diamond made a small click against the wood. Then I turned and walked out.

“Zara, wait!” Marcus shouted behind me.

I kept walking. My chest hurt so badly I thought it would split open. How long had this been going on? How many times had they laughed at me behind my back? Nadia was my sister. My only real family left after Mom died. And Marcus…I had planned my whole future around him. He was supposed to be the one who helped me beat Victor’s clause. Twenty-nine days. That was all I had left.

Now everything was gone.

I grabbed my coat and purse. I held my head high even though my hands were shaking. Victor my sent-from-hell stepfather, always said composure was power. I learned that the hard way in his house. Never let them see you fall. So I didn’t.

The elevator felt like it was getting smaller as I rode down. By the time I stepped outside, the first tears came. I wiped them quickly and kept walking. Three blocks. Four. Five. My heart was shattered and disappointed. I loved them. Both of them. And yet, they did this to me.

I needed to forget all of it. Just for one night.

I spotted a rooftop bar, and made my way up there. It was loud with music and bright, the bar was full of people laughing without a care in the world. I found a stool at the end of the counter and ordered a strong drink. Then another. And another.

The world started spinning nicely. Good. Let it spin. Let Marcus and Nadia fade away.

I couldn’t marry Marcus now. No way. And without a husband in twenty-nine days, Victor would take everything Mom left me. He would push Gerald Holt on me or find some other way or old creep to keep me under his thumb. I was so close. So fucking close.

I reached for the next drink and my elbow knocked over the liquid into the person beside me. It got everywhere. A whole glass tipped over onto a black jacket.

“Shit,” I muttered.

The man turned. He was tall and broad shouldered. He wore an expensive shirt, with brown eyes that looked way too calm for someone who just got soaked. There was a small scar near his left brow.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, grabbing napkins to wipe it down. “I didn’t mean to—”

He caught my hand before I could make it worse. His touch was warm and steadying, he didn’t seem angry at all.

“It’s okay,” he said in a smooth voice. “Looks like you’re having a rough night.”

I laughed once. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

He didn’t let go of my hand right away. Instead, he helped me off the stool and guided me to a quiet corner booth. I let him. My legs weren’t working properly anymore anyway.

We sat down and he waved at the bartender without taking his eyes off me.

“A glass of water for her,” he said. Then he looked at me again, lifting the corner of his mouth just a little. “And maybe something slower next time.”

I narrowed my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Bossy, aren’t you?”

“Only when pretty women start knocking drinks on me.”

Pretty. The word made my chest feel warm even through the alcohol haze. Most men would have been pissed. Instead he looked…amused. Like I was the most interesting thing that had happened to him all night.

I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hand. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” He shrugged, still his eyes left mine. “A spilled drink I can clean. But that look on your face though… that’s harder to fix.”

I bit my lip. The alcohol made everything feel loose. “I just walked in on my boyfriend of three years fucking my half-sister. In my own bed.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn’t look shocked or pitying. He looked…interested.

“Damn,” he said quietly. “That’s cold.”

“Yeah.” I laughed again, but this time it didn’t hurt as much. “And the worst part? I loved both of them. I really loved them. Now I’m sitting here twenty-nine days away from losing everything my mother left me because I can’t get married in time.”

He tilted his head, watching me with keen concentration. “It sounds like the universe is kicking you while you’re down.”

“Yes it is. And it’s hard.” I stared at his face, taking note of his features. He had a strong jaw and his brown eyes were so calming. “What’s your name?”

“Cael.”

“Cael,” I repeated. His name felt nice on my tongue. “You don’t seem like the type who gets drinks spilt on him often.”

He smiled then. This was a real one, although small, but it changed his whole face. “It’s my first time. So you’re making it memorable.”

I felt my stomach flutter with excitement. His voice was masculine in every way and his responses felt deliberate, like he chose them just for me. His eyes were keen and somewhat seductive, as if he was drawing me in. It made me feel seen…wanted.

I smirked and leaned closer across the table. “You know what? Fuck them. Fuck Marcus. Fuck Nadia. Fuck all of it.”

Cael’s eyes darkened just a little. “What do you want instead?”

I looked straight into those brown eyes and said the first reckless thing that came to my mind. “Let’s get out of here.”