All Chapters of Ashes Of Desire : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Rain pounded the cemetery, washing the gravel paths into muddy rivers. Evelyn Harlow hunched under her useless black umbrella, teeth chattering as the last shovelfuls of dirt landed on her mother’s casket. The preacher had finished ages ago. Eve just couldn’t make herself walk away. Not yet.Now it was just her. Nobody left.Her mother, Marlene, fought cancer for three raw, endless years. It was more than enough time for the bills to bleed Eve dry—every dollar scraped from late-night diner shifts, gone. More than enough time to watch the woman who raised her—and Sophia—shrivel up in that tiny apartment, the air stinking of bleach and dread.Sophia. The name alone stung.She didn’t show up for the funeral. Eve hadn’t expected her to. Sophia vanished years back, off to her glossy new life with Alexander Voss. Yeah, that Alexander Voss—Forbes cover, billionaire, all of it. Last time Eve heard from her, Sophia was drunk, slurring accusations, calling her jealous. Like Eve ever wanted that

Eve struggled to breathe.It wasn’t because Alex was holding her too tight—though he definitely was. Every second in his arms chipped away at the walls she’d spent years building. He looked just like the photos, just like Sophia had always described. Tall. Broad shoulders. The scent of his cologne, expensive with a rougher edge underneath. All man.But the way he touched her—like she was both his hope and his downfall—she’d never felt anything like that before.He pulled back, just enough to see her face. His eyes—gold, burning, almost too bright up close—searched hers. Hungry. Desperate.“Sophia,” he said, voice soft.The name hit her like a slap. She wasn’t Sophia. Not ever.But she had to be, for now.“I missed you,” she whispered, the lie scraping her throat.His mouth crashed onto hers.Nothing about the kiss was gentle. Two years of grief and anger and longing all collided, pouring out in one brutal, consuming moment. His hands framed her face, holding her steady while his lips

Three days drifted past, dissolving into a haze of silk sheets, whispered half-truths, and the subtle choreography of deception. The mansion breathed with hidden life, and Eve, ever watchful, adapted to its pulse. She fell in step with the staff’s daily rituals—the clatter of breakfast trays at eight, the silent vacuuming of carpets just after noon, the muted footsteps of the maid who lingered a little too long in the east hallway. She paid attention to the smallest details, letting them root inside her mind: the way Alex’s brow furrowed when he read the paper, the precise moment he took his coffee—always black, always scalding, a ritual as unyielding as the man himself. There was an order to his days, a predictability she clung to even as she was forced to improvise her own role within it.She immersed herself in Sophia’s past, tracing her signature in the faded guest books until her hand moved with the same looping confidence. She pored over every scrap from KJ’s files—old photograp

Eve lay in the vast bed, the silk sheets cool against her overheated skin, but sleep refused to come. Alex's hand still rested on hers, heavy with unconscious possession even in slumber. His breathing was deep and even, the steady rise and fall of a man who believed he had reclaimed what the fire had stolen. She stared at the ceiling, tracing the faint shadows cast by moonlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.How many more nights like this before it all burns?The locket incident replayed in her mind on an endless loop. The way Alex's golden eyes had hardened when she couldn't recall the engraving. He hadn't confronted her outright, but the distance he'd put between them tonight spoke volumes. Suspicion was a crack in the foundation, and cracks had a way of widening until the whole structure collapsed.Her phone, hidden beneath the mattress on her side, vibrated once — a silent pulse against the box spring. Marcus. She knew it without looking. The man moved like smoke,

The morning light sliced through the master bedroom like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. Eve lay motionless beside Alex, her body still humming from the intensity of the previous night in the conservatory. His arm was draped possessively across her waist, scars from the old fire visible even in the soft glow — raised pink lines that told a story of desperation and loss. She traced one lightly with her fingertip, feeling the rough texture against her skin.How many more scars would this deception leave on both of them?Alex stirred, golden eyes fluttering open. For a moment there was only warmth in them as he pulled her closer, burying his face in her neck. "Morning," he murmured, voice rough with sleep and something deeper. His hand slid down her hip, possessive and familiar now."Morning," she whispered back, forcing a smile. The lie sat heavy in her chest, but her body responded to him anyway, traitorous and hungry. When he kissed her, slow and deep, she let herself fall into it. Fo