*Roanne’s POV*It didn’t happen, that is what he wanted me to believe. My body was feverish yet he wanted to forget what he just did.The warmth of his embrace and touch was still a tangible presence around me, when a rap at the door shattered the fragile shield Aaron had shared. He stiffened, and with a last glance at me, he disentangled himself from our tangle of limbs and crossed the room to answer."Blake," he said tersely as he swung the door open. The scent of roasted coffee beans wafted into the room, and there stood Blake, his hands cradling the lifeline of caffeine and pain relief. His solemn nod toward me suggested this was more than a mere courtesy call."Brought what you asked," Blake said to Aaron, holding out the steaming cup and a small bottle of aspirin. Looking beyond him, I saw no traces of the early morning light; the world outside felt as distant as my grasp on the events that led to this moment."Thanks." My voice was a hoarse whisper, but it carried the wei
*Roanne’s POV*I slid into the wooden desk, the cool surface a stark contrast to the feverish throb of my pulse. My fingers clutched the pen with a sense of urgency that belied the calm I projected, note-taking a futile attempt at normalcy. The professors' speech melded into the background hum of my thoughts, each word heavy with the secrets that now lined my pockets like stones."Questions?" The professor's voice punctured my reverie, and I jerked upright, eyes darting across the room, masks of indifference mirroring my own."None?" He seemed almost disappointed, packing his notes with a flourish. The class dispersed, the scrape of chairs against linoleum echoing my internal disarray."Roanne," the whisper of my name snaked through the corridor as I gathered my books. Michael leaned casually against the doorframe, his presence commanding the space with an ease that spoke of lineage and entitlement, and for that same reason, eyes flickered toward us."Waiting for me?" My voice s
*Aaron’s POV*The room hummed with a clandestine electricity, the glow of multiple screens casting a spectral dance across Jake's face as he hunched over the keyboard. The hacker I enlisted was a ghost in the machine, fingers flying over keys with a deft urgency."Got anything?" My voice cut through the buzzing silence, a note of impatience betraying my calm exterior."Initial sweep's done," Jake murmured, eyes not leaving the screen. "There's a trail, but it's murky—like wading through a swamp of shell companies and dead-ends.""Show me." I moved closer, the scent of stale coffee and cold ambition mingling in the charged air. The data on the screen flickered like a morse code of secrets, each byte a breadcrumb leading to Violet's enigmatic past.Jake pointed at clusters of information, his explanation terse. "Family ties are complex. Seems every strand leads back to Europe—some serious money, potentially dirty.""Potentially?" My gaze hardened as I scanned the encrypted data,
*Roanne’s POV*The weekly meeting of the Revenge Club should feel like a heady mix of tension and triumph, but tonight, the air was electric with the scent of victory. I slipped into the dimly lit room, my pulse quickening as Violet stood before us, her presence commanding silence from every corner."Congratulations," she purred, her voice silk over steel. "Your appetites for justice were well fed this week." The others cheered, their faces flushed with satisfaction. I clapped along, trying to mirror their enthusiasm despite the knot in my stomach.I looked around, trying to find Michael in any corner, remembering he and I would have a date tomorrow, but he was nowhere to be found, and I felt a bit disappointed."Roanne," Violet's eyes flicked to me, casual yet sharp as knives. "Your report?"I swallowed hard, the taste of fear mingling with the musk of ambition in my throat. "Progress... has been made," I began, willing my voice not to shake. "But there have been... setbacks."V
*Roanne’s POV*I felt the chill of the early morning air nip at my skin as I made my way across the dew-kissed campus, textbooks clutched against my chest. The ancient oaks stood as silent sentinels, watching the throng of students buzzing with the electric pulse of a new day. My thoughts were a tangled web of formulas and essay prompts when Lizzie's voice cut through the ambient chatter like a violin string pulled taut."Roanne! Wait up!" she called out, breathless.I turned to find her, a cascade of auburn hair and hurried apologies, weaving through the crowd. "Sorry, I'm late," Lizzie panted, coming to a stop beside me, her cheeks flushed from more than just exertion."Where were you last night?" I asked, my curiosity sharpening into focus. Lizzie always had an anchor in punctuality—and yesterday, she was missing at the weekly club meeting.She bit her lip, a rose blooming across her face. "I… went out with someone.""Someone?" My mind raced. I wanted details, the kind that
*Roanne’s POV*I could feel the weight of Michael's gaze, piercing through the haze of my flustered state. His brow arched in concern. "Roanne, are you quite alright? You seem... agitated. I thought this was what you wanted, to expose him."The words swirled around me, a mix of suspicion and care that I wasn't sure how to take. "I'm fine," I assured him, striving for nonchalance, but my voice betrayed a tremor. My focus sharpened on him, his presence both intimidated and compelled me."Because if something is ok, or you are not sure..." he ventured, a step closer into my personal space, his warmth encroaching on my cool facade."Really, Michael," I cut him off, perhaps too sharply. The air between us crackled with unspoken tension. “This is my mission, one of the two ones, the only one left actually. Justice must be served. Tell me, is that why you didn’t attend last night’s meeting?”He studied my face with those discerning eyes—eyes that missed nothing, eyes that now held a fl
*Roanne’s POV*The mirror reflected a version of me that seemed almost foreign to me—a woman draped in the kind of elegance that whispered of clandestine rendezvous. The black dress clung to my curves, a second skin that was both armor and vulnerability. It represented a new beginning, or perhaps a continuation of something I wasn't quite sure I wanted to escape from.I couldn't help but let my mind drift to Michael, his gaze had been focused on me always, and his words laced with an admiration Aaron never offered. Where Michael's presence was a gentle sunbeam through autumn leaves, Aaron was the tempest—the cold, devouring sea that left me gasping for air.Slipping into my heels, I felt powerful, the delicious height giving me more than just stature; it gave me a feeling of command. I would have to thank Lizzie for convincing me to accept it from her.Knuckles rapped sharply against the door, breaking my concentration. My watch flickered 4:00 PM—too early for Michael, too punctu
*Roanne’s POV*"Roanne?" Michael's voice filtered through the wood, laced with concern. The knock turned into a steady rhythm, mirroring the frantic beat of my heart.Aaron withdrew his hand, tracing the wetness up my quivering thighs, all the way to his mouth. He sucked on his fingers, his eyes locked on mine, making an exaggerated hushing sound that sent another wave of unwanted arousal coursing through me.He then slid a wet finger into his mouth, quietly tasting my sins as he smiled. I couldn’t believe what he was doing, and my body felt more aroused than it should have while witnessing his actions.‘Damn you, Aaron,’ I thought, the terror of being discovered by Michael made me feel the length to which I had fallen. Another knock, this one more insistent, tugged at my conscience. The simultaneous buzz of my phone felt like an alarm bell, screaming for attention I couldn't give."Are you ready? We should go." Michael's muffled words vibrated through the door, oblivious to the