Only Mine Reviews Novels & Stories

The car slid smoothly through the packed streets of New York, though everything looked calm from behind the matte-black, bulletproof windows. Of course it did. This was a Rodriguez car. If it could talk, it’d probably have a Spanish accent and a deep, cocky voice saying, “I cost more than your apartment, Dianna.” I leaned back, head resting against buttery leather that was so soft, it made me think, huh, maybe I wouldn’t need therapy if all my problems came with headrests like this.

Who in the hell was he to judge what I do to support myself? "Well, my own personal international corporation never came through like yours did. Mr. Blackstone. I resorted to modeling. I like sleeping in a bed as opposed to a park bench. And heat. The winters here suck!" The snark in my voice rang out pretty clear even to my ears.

Tap my mug against the counter. The message burns behind my eyelids every time I blink. Finally I type a reply—Appreciate the offer. Could you share more details?—and hover over send for what feels like a full minute. Then I delete it. Then I retype it. Then I send it. Instant read-receipt. No answer. I sit back in my chair, palms damp, pulse ridiculous. The quiet hum returns, louder now, threading through the walls and floor until it feels like it’s coming from inside me.

LUCAS’S POV I walked through the streets of no man’s land, as I was too restless to sit in the room Fenrir had provided for me in his small house that could not even be called a pack house. Despite the amount of hate and the words that had been thrown at me, I was still eager and desperate to get Hazel back from Killian’s clutches. I walked down the streets deep in thought, when I began to hear snickers and side remarks. I paid it no mind, until I heard my name, through the crowd. I looked up from the floor and looked around as I stopped dead in my tracks.

Element was the kind of club that let seventeen-year-olds with the right last names walk past the line like it didn't exist, lights low and music loud enough that Jace didn't have to think about anything for a while, which was exactly the point. For the first hour, it almost worked. Tyler bought a round of something blue and terrible. Mason dragged him onto the floor with a group of girls from the private school two towns over. Jace let himself get loud, let himself laugh at things that weren't funny, let the bass drown out the two words that had been living behind his ribs for weeks. *Not anymore.* He was three drinks in, leaning against the bar, when he heard the name. "....used to look li

He’s there in less than twenty minutes. I don’t ask how. When he walks through the office doors, every head turns, but I barely notice. I only notice the way his eyes find me immediately. Assessing. Protective. “Show me,” he says. We step into an empty conference room. I slide the papers across the table. He reads them once. Then again. His jaw tightens. “He’s claiming instability,” Flavian says flatly. My stomach drops. “What?” “He’s arguing you’ve created an unstable environment. That he can provide something more… structured.”

(Ps- Grace Matthews nickname is Gracie) Thank you everyone for reading my story. I appreciate all the love and support. God bless you. Please don't forget to recommend this story to your friends. Your good reviews are also appreciated. Feel free to read my other stories. (Cold Showers, Bound by her bump, Love over everything, Betrayal or love? and Virtuous love) Thank you.

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