Mag-log inAmara’s POVTwo thousand years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At two thousand and eighteen, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. Two thousand years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy over fear every single
Amara’s POVOne thousand years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At one thousand and eighteen, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. One thousand years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy over fear every single
Amara’s POVOne thousand years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At one thousand and eighteen, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. One thousand years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy over fear every single
Amara’s POVFive hundred years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At five hundred and eighteen, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. Five hundred years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy over fear every single
Amara’s POVThree hundred years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At three hundred and eighteen, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. Three hundred years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy over fear every sin
Amara’s POVTwo hundred years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At two hundred and eighteen, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. Two hundred years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy over fear every single da
Luca’s POVThe chamber’s air was thick with the scent of gunpowder and sweat, the switch in my hands beeping a frantic countdown as Sofia’s KGB ghosts closed in. Dante and Rocco flanked me, their bodies pressed close—Dante’s hand on my lower back, Rocco’s shoulder brushing mine. The erotic tension
Luca’s POVThe woods closed in like a living cage, Chen’s grip on my arm iron as she dragged me deeper into the trees. Her tac team fanned out behind, securing the perimeter, but her focus was singular—on me. The federal SUV idled on the dirt track, engine low, headlights cutting yellow swaths thro
Luca’s POVThe cabin’s dim light flickered from a single bulb, casting long shadows across Dante’s face as he paced, his confession hanging between us like smoke from a fired gun. “I let it happen,” he repeated, voice rough with self-loathing. “Viktor approached me when I was twenty-two—right after
Luca’s POVThe yacht tilted violently, flames licking up from the engine room as Sofia’s rigged explosives tore through the hull. Water surged over the deck, cold and relentless, turning the luxury vessel into a sinking coffin. Sal Moretti stood amid the chaos, his charcoal suit soaked, red silk ti







