Tristan povI slumped into the couch, my eyes glued to the glowing laptop screen. For weeks now, I’ve been on edge, seriously pissed, and simmering with frustration. My Mom, Ivory, those Russians — everyone seemed to be pushing my buttons lately.My mind flashed back to that night I walked out of my office and found Ivory asleep at the dining table. My blood boiled, what the hell was she sleeping here? So reckless and stupid. But as I got closer, the image I saw crushed me — the tiny girl, trembling, drenched in sweat, whispering desperate pleas in her sleep, tears streaking down her face. Anger twisted inside me, All I wanted at that moment was to find whoever did this to her. Break them into little pieces. And then, at myself, for leaving her alone in that room, vulnerable. A wave of something akin to…pity, washed over me. For a moment, I wanted to reach out, to pull her close and promise everything would be okay. But why should I feel sorry for her? I’m only using her, and when I
Last Updated : 2025-06-11 Read more