جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 120

Logan stood frozen in the doorway, his hand still gripping the heavy handle as if he needed it just to stay upright.For five years, Lauren had been his entire world. For the year since their messy breakup, she had been a ghost haunting his dreams. Seeing her now, standing in his office in the flesh, was like watching a dream come to life. He felt the air leave his lungs, leaving him lightheaded and reeling.He was shocked to his very bones. He had expected her to hate him forever — and he knew, deep down, that she had every right to. But as his eyes traveled over her, the guilt that usually lived in his chest was drowned out by sheer, overwhelming awe. She looked more beautiful than he had ever remembered. The forest green of her dress made her look like a queen from an old story, and the way the bright office lights caught her glossy blonde waves made his heart ache with a familiar, desperate longing. She looked amazing. She looked like the only thing he had ever truly wanted."Lau

The restaurant was Le Jardin Vert, a famous place among New York’s elite. It was a beautiful space, a glass-walled masterpiece with hanging orchids and white linen tables. Sunlight poured through the ceiling, making the silver forks and knives sparkle like diamonds. It was a place designed for laughter and expensive celebrations, but as Lauren stepped inside, it felt like a gilded cage. Every beautiful thing around her only made her feel more trapped.Logan didn't let go of her hand. In fact, he tightened his grip, pulling her closer to his side as the hostess led them through the dining room. Logan was practically glowing. His chest was puffed out with a smug sense of victory, his chin held high. He wanted everyone to see them together."I used to bring you here every Friday, remember?" he whispered, his breath warm against her ear, but it made her shiver with discomfort. "The chef still makes that truffle pasta you loved. I already told him we were coming."Lauren nodded vaguely. Sh

The fluorescent lights of the 24-hour Whole Foods in Chelsea hummed with a buzzing energy. Usually, Mia found that sound annoying, but tonight it matched her tired mood perfectly. New York was a city that never slept, and apparently, neither did her stress.She gripped the cold metal handle of her trolley, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor as she glanced down at the crumpled sticky note in her hand. It was her 'Survival List,' the only thing standing between her and a total breakdown after a thirteen-hour workday.On her survival lists was Arugula, the pre-washed kind; two bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon, non-negotiable; possibly the most important item, Dark chocolate, 70% cocoa or higher; anything less was Candy, Greek yogurt, and Artisan Truffle-Infused Hot Sauce (the only thing that made her microwave ramen taste like it cost thirty dollars)She had navigated the produce section and picked the wine with the precision of a woman with a 9:00 AM deposition to win. N

The knock on the door came very late. Lauren looked at the clock on the wall when she heard it. It was 9:00 PM. She frowned, wondering who could be visiting so late. Mia had gone to bed an hour earlier, complaining of a terrible headache and asking not to be disturbed. The apartment was silent, save for the distant hum of city traffic below.She stood up from the couch, smoothing her sweater, and walked to the door, looking through the peephole. Her breath hitched, and her heart skipped a beat so hard it actually hurt.She opened the door, and there he was. Colt stood on the other side of the threshold.For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They just stood there, staring at each other, breathing the same air for the first time in weeks. He looked different; his hair was slightly messy, as if he had run his hands through it a hundred times. His expensive suit jacket was wrinkled. But it was his eyes that caught her. They were tired. Too tired. It was the kind of deep exhaustion th

Madison could not take the humiliation for one more second.The following morning, she drove back to her own home, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white. Anger burned through her veins like poison. As she got home, every step she took across her foyer felt sharp and heavy. How dare he? How dare Colt Moore treat her like trash?She was a Baker. She was beautiful, wealthy, and powerful. Any man in New York would feel like the luckiest person alive to date her. They would be honored to claim the baby she carried. Yet Colt looked at her like she was nothing. He looked at her with disgust, as if she were a bug he wanted to squash under his shoe.The memory of him shoving her out of his bedroom made her hands shake all over again. She stood in the middle of her vast, empty living room, clenching her fists. Her nails dug deep into her palms, but she barely felt the pain as a dark, ugly rage twisted in her stomach, making her feel sick and powerful at the same