All Chapters of LOVE TRIANGLE: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

"You don't seem like your usual bubbly self. Are you okay?" Craig asked, casting a side glance at his twin sister. They were standing near the back of the chapel, watching the final blessings of the wedding ceremony for Zeke—Cara's ex-boyfriend. "I'm perfectly lovely, brother," Cara answered flatly, keeping her eyes glued to the altar. The moment the ceremony concluded, Cara spun on her heel, intending to escape without saying a word to the newlyweds. But as they reached the heavy exit doors, a voice cut through the chatter of the crowd. "Cara! Hold up!" Zeke was jogging down the steps toward them, but Cara kept her eyes fixed straight on the pavement ahead, accelerating her pace. Craig hesitated, torn between stopping his sister or letting her run. He had noticed a heavy, troubled cloud hanging over Cara since the moment they arrived at the venue. "Don't look back, Craig," Cara commanded, her hand snapping out to grip his forearm when she noticed him turning toward Zeke. "If you

The next morning, Craig returned to the exclusive lounge. He had no intention of letting the previous night's disrespect slide, especially considering the manager and her bouncers had acted as literal accomplices to a street thug. "We're still closed to the public," a floor guard muttered coldly, stepping forward to block the entrance as Craig approached. "Watch your tone and show some respect," Craig’s personal assistant snapped, stepping in front of his boss. "Do you have any idea who you are addressing? This is Mr. Craig White. He owns this entire establishment." "Never mind him," Craig interjected quietly, pushing past the guard and stepping into the dim interior. His eyes narrowed instantly as his gaze locked onto the sharp-faced woman who had aggressively thrown him and his sister into the alleyway the night before. "What on earth is this person doing back here?" Ms. Topaz, the manager, scoffed, turning to the senior supervisor next to her. When Craig didn't answer, she stepp

DAPHNE YILDIZ "Someone keeps calling you! Either shut it off or hide it where I can't see it—it's ruining the vibe!" I just let out a loose, liquid chuckle at Ziggy’s complaints. Swaying along to the heavy bass, I fished the vibrating phone out of my bag, my eyelids already half-closed as my balance faltered. "Hell... lo?!" I shouted into the receiver, a sloppy smirk stretching across my face. "Where the hell are you?! It's past midnight, Daphne!" The sharp authority in the voice made me blink. Curious, I pulled the phone away from my ear to peer through the hazy neon light at the screen. "Cara??" I giggled, bringing the phone back to my ear. "Where are you? Tell me the address right now. I'm coming to pick you up!" "What?!" I yelled back over the thumping music. As I looked at the packed dance floor, the realization finally clicked. Now I understood why Cara was always out partying until dawn. This environment was an absolute escape. It was pure fun. "I said, where are you, y

DAPHNE YILDIZ WHITE "I thought we were going somewhere?" I asked, my voice tight as I realized the sports car was twisting down the familiar boulevards leading back to the estate. "Can't I change my mind?" Cara countered, her knuckles white against the leather steering wheel. "Maybe next time, Daphne. I just remembered some urgent corporate errands I need to attend to." I simply shrugged, refusing to give her the satisfaction of an argument, and turned my head back toward the passenger window. 3rd Person Perspective Cara couldn't comprehend the violent, sudden shift in her own equilibrium. A suffocating irritability had taken over the cabin the exact second that varsity captain had reached out to touch Daphne. There was a dark, territorial possessiveness screaming in the back of her mind—a raw emotion she desperately tried to shrug off, terrified to name what she was truly feeling. DAPHNE YILDIZ WHITE After thirty seconds of heavy, agonizing silence, I couldn't hold it back anym

DAPHNE YILDIZ WHITE It took me a long time to finally grant her some privacy. If it weren't for the pressing need to peel out of my heavy wedding-guest attire, I might have stayed right by her side through the rest of the dark hours. The moment I stepped back into the isolation of my bedroom, I began shedding my accessories one by one. The pearl butterfly link wrist chain clattered softly onto the vanity. I stepped out of the vibrant orange dress and unbuckled the four-inch cut-out heels, instantly drowning my frame in the oversized comfort of my favorite flower-pink robe. I leaned over the vanity, staring blankly at my reflection in the mirror. Inevitably, the ghost of my evening with Craig rushed back to haunt me. He still held this intoxicating, dangerous effect over my equilibrium—a quiet pull that I was having an increasingly difficult time washing out of my system, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. How on earth was I supposed to navigate this psychological torture for