Semua Bab Ripples And Hills: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Alexa (Prudence)Present Day. Corte, Corsica, France. Saturday, 21st June. Evening.The hall is packed. Royalty. Tycoons. Fashion gods. Icons. Titans. I scanned the guest list earlier and nearly lost my mind. The Blackwoods didn’t hold back. It’s more than a fashion event, it’s a coronation for someone. Gush!! I'm sweating. Panicking.All day I’ve been running, managing models, securing last-minute stitches, triple-checking silhouettes. And all the while, I’ve felt Pier’s eyes on me, not literally. He isn’t here. I told him not to be. It would’ve looked like favoritism. He listened, surprisingly.Gave me a discreet camera button instead. He sees what I see. Sometimes, I forget. I keep going and then I get a text from him, asking me to show a dress piece again. He's enthusiastic to see my designs. Odd. But good odd, I must say.“Alright, guys. This is it,” our coordinator calls. The backstage noise stills. “We’ve got the Hills. The Ripples. The Wellingtons. Carmichaels. Even a few roya

Pier.Later.I sit on the couch, watching her. Prudence. Asleep. Her breathing even now, thanks to the mild sedative my colleague prescribed. She's curled up, fragile in a way I haven’t seen before. I don't like this Fragile her. I like that feisty cat that stared down the waitress. Gave a fashion show. Not this. She is so small like this. Like she can break.Hours ago, I found her on the terrace. Alone. Broken. Crying like her world had just ended. No words. Just shattered sobs that ripped through the quiet night.I brought her home. Thank God her file listed her residence. She didn’t speak, just wept the whole ride here. By the time we arrived, her housekeeper was waiting, alarmed by the stranger carrying her half conscious employer.She broke down in Martha’s arms.And I stayed.“Dr. Blackwood.” Martha’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. She steps quietly into the living room, concern etched into her features.She sits on the other side of the couch, her gaze fixed on Prudence. The

Hulio.New York. Evening.I walk into my parents’ home, the place I once called home, before Mum and I left for Monaco.Grief is an ugly, clinging thing, and right now, standing before my father’s framed portrait on the wall, it’s choking me. Crushing me from inside. It's like a damned imploding pressure crippling me from inside.“When did you get back from Corte?”Mum. Her voice, as elegant and calm as ever. Despite her pain, she's still poised. Holding it in.I turn to her. The woman who birthed me. Still stunning. Still composed. A woman I’ve always admired, grace carved into her bones.“I arrived a few hours ago,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Had to check on you. I needed to be sure you were alright.” My voice cracks.She takes my hand gently. Her fingers feel thinner than I remember. Has she been crying again? I don't want her to cry.My heart twists.And then, like a thorn ripping through cloth, Miss Prudence’s words echo in my mind,‘What if she didn’t do it? What i

Helia.Later…I fume silently, standing at the window, watching the waves crash against the jagged rocks below. The sky’s clear. The sea’s beautiful. But none of it matters. Because Ashley isn’t back.10 am and still no sign of her. There's this dull ache in my heart I'm refusing to register.My phone rings. I grab it from my pocket. Pier.“What’s up?” I say, forcing energy into my voice. It lands flat.“Where are you?” he snaps. “We need to talk.”His tone’s clipped, impatient. Mine stays lazy. “Milan. Why?”“We need to talk,” he repeats.Ahh!I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’ve got a few minutes.” Honestly, I don’t. And I don’t care. Investment updates can wait.“What happened between Hulio and Prudence Kateri?”Alexa’s alias hits me like a sucker punch. My breath catches. What the hell is Pier doing with her name in his mouth? What does Hulio have to do with her?“What does Hulio have to do with Prudence?” I ask, trying to stay calm while my insides churn.“You tell me,” Pier reto

Pier.She looks stunned. Wide-eyed. Unblinking. Watching me like I’ve just cracked something open inside her.Is she scared? I don’t know.But I had to say those words. I had to tell her how I felt.So instead, I lean in and let my lips and tongue speak for me. She tastes like flowers and something darker; chocolate and cinnamon and flames. I remember her outburst just moments ago. Whatever she’s carrying is heavy. I can feel it in her kiss.And God, when I find Helia, I swear I’ll crush his face for stealing Prudence’s life.Our mouths collide again, this time deeper. Hotter. I pull her close until she’s pressed against me, molded into my body like she belongs there. Her breath is hot on my lips, her fingers tangled around my neck.She moans into my mouth. I groan against her skin.We’re standing on a quiet street, and I don’t care who sees. The world fades away. All that exists is her. The woman who’s invaded every breath I take. Who's plagued my thoughts.This isn’t guilt. I know g