LOGINRoman didn't answer immediately; he just stared at me before he averted his gaze, sighing as his hand moved to run through his hair, but he stopped when he realized it would mess up his hair. He dropped his hand, his fists curling into a fist. He laughed once, but there was no amusement in the sound: it just sounded bitter. “I don't… I don't know,” he admitted. “I just felt this… irritation, and I snapped. I didn't mean to.”“It’s okay,” I assured him, reaching out and rubbing his arm. “It’s okay.”He released a breath, nodding towards the car, and I got in.The ride to his office was smooth and silent. Not the kind of heavy silence I usually sit in, just a… soft silence. When we got to his office, my mouth fell open as I stared at the enormous building that stretched to the sky.“My father’s achievement,” Roman said as he held the door open for me, and a valet came to take his car away. “He wasn't the best father, but he made sure to build something that’ll last for generations.”“A
I stood in front of the mirror, staring at myself. I stared and stared, and it was hard to connect the reflection staring back at me with the woman I've been for the past four years.The woman in the mirror looked bold, like she knew what she was doing. I was dressed in a three-piece skirt suit that stopped just above my knees, unlike the usual gown I wore that always reached my ankles. The suit was tight, with no space to hide, and everything was so bold—and by everything, I meant my curves.My hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, held in place with gel. I was putting on red lipstick and jewelry. “This is ridiculous," I said to the reflection in the mirror, but I still couldn't look away, even though I felt like an imposter and like someone else. This wasn't me. I didn't look this bold, this… this sure. I should have turned down Roman’s request, but how could I when he had looked so excited? When his eyes had lit up like that? “Come with me to work tomorrow,” he had said, and
KAIDORA“Oh my,” I whispered as I stared at the wonder in front of me. It was a garden, but the kind I've only read about in books.The garden stretched farther than my eyes could follow, with all kinds of flowers I had ever seen, and hundreds of ones I hadn't. It was surrounded by trees with so many branches and beautiful leaves. And in the heart of it lay a lake so still, it looked like polished glass. White lilies float across its surface, their reflections trembling every time the wind brushes past. It didn't seem real. It looked like someone had carved a piece of heaven into earth. “My mother hated ordinary gardens,” Roman whispered, and I turned to see him staring at a tree with a heavy expression. “She said flowers needed more space to breathe, and so my father built this for her. That isn't even a real lake, but he made it for her. My father failed as a father, but as a husband and mate? He gave it his all.”His eyes didn't move from the tree. And he didn't even blink. “T
When I was young, right before Damian was born, my father took me to a doctor. He thought there was something wrong with me. He thought I was… defective. I remembered the strange questions they asked me. They asked if I like to hurt animals. Or people. All my answers had been no. When they told my father there was nothing wrong with me, he refused to believe it. I remembered what I felt then as I watched him tell them that I never cried, that I watched children fight without doing anything about it. That I smiled when I saw blood, but I wasn't smiling because I enjoyed seeing people hurt. I just… I enjoyed the sight. I loved watching things come apart. My mother insisted there was nothing wrong with me, that I would grow out of it. But my father fell deaf to all those words. He refused to listen to any of them. He said his heir couldn't be what I was, and so he taught me restraint. Not kindness. Not compassion, but restraint. If I wanted to hit something, I learned to fold my hands
ROMANJealousy. That was a foreign concept to me. I didn't feel silly things like jealousy, but as I stood there and watched Kaidora drive around the field with another man sitting behind her, that silly thing burned my chest so much it was hard to breathe.As I watched her smile and laugh, it left a foul taste in my mouth. Why does he get to make her laugh, and I can't? Why does he have to be sitting behind her and not me? And why the fuck did I insist I could stay away? Right now, as this foreign feeling consumes me, what I said last night sounded like rubbish to me. Jude adjusts something on the handlebars, and my fists clenched as I imagined my hand there instead. Mine, and not fucking his. She smiled again, and my breath became fast. I was so damn sick of sacrificing for others while I just stayed back and watched. I was so bloody tired of holding back from what I want, denying myself the things that I have a passion for, because of this damn sense of responsibility and restra
Mr. Valmont sat in his wheelchair in the middle of the garden, his forlorn expression fixed on a single flower. I forgot all about my anger and problems as I kept staring at him. He looked like he was mourning something lost. He looked like a part of himself was no more.The more I kept staring at him, the more my eyes burned, and my throat tightened.Grief. Grief was the only thing making his eyes spark. Grief so great, I could feel it pressing down on me. An emotion I was all too familiar with. And I know he needs his alone time, and I shouldn't be here. But just as I was about to turn and leave, he turned his head, and his eyes landed on me.“Kaidora,” he called softly, his voice hoarse.“I-I was just about to leave, sir,” I said, pointing back at the exit.“Come sit with me.”I swallowed, nodding before I walked to him. I dropped down on the soft ground beside him, folding my legs. His gaze returned to the flower, and he said nothing. I stared at the flower as well, trying to un







