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I ask her. She waves her hand in the air. “It’s just…just…never mind.” “Hi,” Jackson says, turning his bike around. “I’m Jackson.” “What happened to not talking to strangers?” I ask him, narrowing my eyes. “You’re talking to her,” Jackson quips. “She could be some sort of psycho for all we know,” I tell him with a wink. Charlie laughs. “I might be a little crazy. And I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you.”

I knew I should have did it myself. "I'm doing my best to find him so relax we'll take him back"- Relax? "Bring him back! If yiu don't want me to kill you instead."- Where did he go this time? He better be not be hurt or something because I will literally gonna chop off their hands who hurt him. *** Charlie's POV

The man strained his eyes but failed to see through the darkness. "Kael," he mumured weakly, calling out to his wolf. But no response came. They had done something to their wolves. "Kael can't hear you," a demonic voice cut through the foul air. A dim light flickered on, casting the room into a grim glow and revealing a grotesque monster. Half of its face was charred, its eyes entirely pitch black, even the whites. Its back was hunched, head bald and glistening under the weak light. The sight was so horrifying it could make anyone’s blood run ice.

Early the next morning, I went to the office. Once I had wiped out all the source code files, I dropped the divorce papers and the share transfer agreement onto Jessica's desk. Then, I went straight back to the villa to pack my bags. As I opened a drawer to grab my documents, I froze. Tucked at the very back was a set of matching shirts. And embroidered on the collars were the initials "JT and RP". Those were Jessica and Ronald's initials, and the shirts were from a limited-edition collector's series released eight years ago.

I hate the way my heart tries to crawl out of my throat whenever he’s near. Love, am I right? The world’s most beautiful, debilitating curse. Because Charlie? Charlie is a flirt. No, he’s THE Flirt. Capital F. It’s his native language. He charms the barista, the CEO, the old lady who lives down the hall. And with women he’s interested in? He’s a goddamn symphony of attention. He listens, he laughs, he makes them feel like the only person in the room. But it’s a firework. Bright, breathtaking, and over in a flash.

And now, everything has somehow become my fault. Charlie went to pour a glass of water for Charlie. When she approached, she brushed against something and let out a delicate cry as she fell onto the carpet. Hot liquid splashed everywhere and seeped into the hem of Charlie’s trousers. He immediately crouched down to help her. When he reached for tissues and found the box empty, he barked at me, “Hand me your scarf!” I froze. That light sky‑blue velvet scarf was the one he had given me when he confessed to me.

"Then, would you like to see the other one I drew l?" "You drew another one?" Charlie eagerly nodded and flipped the page of his sketchpad. There was a drawing of a man standing beside a child. "This is mean uncle," he pointed at the larger figure. "And this," his finger moved over to the smaller one. "Is me." Bellatrix froze. Her eyes slowly rose to meet his. "Mean uncle?" Charlie's eyes sparkled as he nodded. "Yeah, he helped me at the airport, remember?" At the airport? Cillian?

Her eyes were red and puffy as she covered her face. "Raine, don't do anything stupid." Charlie reached for her, and as she moved, a tattoo peeked out from her collar—a sleek arrow with a bold C inked into it. Something clicked. Charlie had a similar tattoo on his chest, a Cupid-like design. When I asked about it, he brushed it off. Just for fun, he'd said. He always swore Raine was like a sister.

BRUCE Charlotta was a puzzle I couldn’t stop trying to solve. She sat across from me at the restaurant, her red lipstick catching the light as she sipped her water, her eyes darting between the twins’ banter and the harbor view. She played the part of the perfect secretary flawlessly—organized, poised, quick with a smile—but there was something beneath it all, a shadow that kept me on edge. I’d told Harley last night I couldn’t pin it down, but it was there, like a whisper I couldn’t quite hear.

Charles was a famous top leading businessman for twenty-eight consecutive years until he took the spot as the new Number one and Charles was demoted to the top two and that’s how Charles held a deep grudge against him. A couple of hours passed, and Dion and Victor did nothing but chatter relentlessly in the office after a facile effort of finishing three mountains of paper works in just a short span of hours. It was a piece of cake for Dion to revise, sign, and correct them, he’s been doing this kind of work since he was in his early teens.