LOGINHe leans forward, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial, deeply unsettling whisper as he stares directly into my green contact lenses. "In fact... you don't have to be a maid at all, Candy. I can make all of this manual labor disappear with a single phone call. If you can just agree to be my pri
"Look, Naomi, if Dennise catches you in here, she’s going to—" The distinct, heavy sound of the deadbolt locking echoes through the quiet kitchen. My entire body goes completely rigid. My instincts scream at me, a cold shock of adrenaline instantly shooting straight to my fingertips. That isn't th
I smooth down the front of my oversized, scratchy maid uniform, my fingers tracing the small bruise on my chest from where Caroline's finger violently ripped my dress open at the cemetery yesterday. My skin still feels raw from the humiliation, my eyes are burning from crying all night over Owen, a
The striking, facial structure. Sydney is an absolute, undeniable replica of the woman in the vintage photograph—Tobias’s mother. The almost psychotic protectiveness Tobias has shown toward Sydney from the very first moment he met her. The massive financial safety nets he threw under her, the fact
Before I can even open my mouth to apologize for breaking into his house, Tobias speaks. His voice is incredibly quiet, completely devoid of its usual sharp authority, yet it carries a heavy, haunting weight that pins me right to the carpet. "For years..." he murmurs, his finger continuing its slow
I stand frozen on the gravel path, the engine of Sydney’s departing car roaring in my ears. I watch the taillights of her vehicle bounce over the cemetery threshold, disappearing completely from sight, and with every inch of distance she puts between us, my heart shatters into a million jagged, irre
Out of habit, I lean in. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, expecting the usual floral scent of roses or lilies. Instead, a wave of nostalgia hits me. My heart stutters. My eyes fly open, and suddenly, I’m not standing in a mint-green manor. I’m back in that hospital room, feeling the bandage
The iron gates of Owen's estate swing open, revealing a driveway that can comfortably sit my apartment complex. As the Rolls Royce glides over the smooth gravel, I press my forehead against the cool glass of the window, taking it all in. It isn’t as sprawling or as ostentatious as the Newton mano
"There. Now you look like where you belong. Beneath me." "You bastard!" "Why hasn't that divorce filing been withdrawn yet?" he ignores my insult, gripping my hair even tighter until tears prick the corners of my eyes. "I sued you. I froze your cards. I made sure your little acting friends know yo
"Cute." The word hangs in the air, filled with a dry aristocratic amusement that makes my face heat up instantly. Owen is standing in the middle of my living room, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his tailored trousers. In this small, compact space, he looks like a giant—or a predator th







