LOGINThe rope slips; red blooms where the cord rubbed. She coughs, breath ragged, and for the briefest second, I see the raw, human relief on her face and I almost lose myself.Harry’s skepticism is a physical thing. He lingers, watching, not trusting the whole of the room to breath. He steps closer to m
I sit at the desk — the wood is warm where my palms have been a thousand times. My chair creaks. The desktop terminal is exactly as it should be, blank and expectant. Harry doesn’t let me near the secure keypad at first; he watches me like a hawk, his gun never leaving the space between my shoulder
CHASEMy hands ache where the ropes cut into my wrists. The marble beneath me is cold, and the city lights blur beyond the glass — and inside me, there's one fiery thing: fury. It tastes like copper, regret, and a hundred promises I doubt I can keep.Victoria sits across from me with that broken, fi
She takes out something. It’s a gun.“Vivienne—” I whisper, breath catching.She smiles, cruel and calm and Harry steps forward, snatching the gun from her hand.“You think this will make me help you?” Chase spits. “I’d rather die.”Harry stares at him for a hot second, walks up to him, and presses
VICTORIAMy words hang in the air like smoke — thick, suffocating, and for a moment, no one breathes.My heart slams against my ribs as I dart my gaze toward Chase. He’s still on the floor — bruised, bleeding, panting — his head hanging low as blood drips onto the marble.Then I turn to Vivienne and
VICTORIAWhen I open my eyes, the first thing I notice is darkness cutting through the glass walls of the penthouse. For a second, I can’t tell where I am.My head is pounding so loud I can hear it echoing in my skull, before it all comes rushing back like a tidal wave. Someone knocked me out, right







