LOGINThe 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
My throat locks up. I’ve seen Owen angry, I’ve seen him arrogant, and I’ve seen him lethal in a courtroom. But I have never seen him cry like this. "I am so sorry for leaving you in that jail cell, Sydney," he whispers again, his voice cracking completely now as he stares down at my lips. "I know n
The second Owen’s fingers touch the chrome handle of his sleek black sedan, I violently twist out of his reach. I yank myself away from his side, clutching the lapels of his oversized designer suit jacket against my chest like a shield. He freezes, his hand dropping from the door as he whips his he
My stomach completely drops. The press. The paparazzi who were banned from the main service have already spotted the commotion from the outer gates. Long, heavy camera lenses are already poking through the iron bars, the rapid, machine-gun clicking of shutters filling the air as they capture every
Right now, I’m slumped on the sofa in my private study, my head resting on Georgia’s chest. Her fingers are threading through my hair as she whispers, "Oh, my poor boy." It should feel comforting. It should feel like the one stable thing I have left. But honestly? I’m just numb. I haven’t slept a
Why am I even here? I mutter the question under my breath, the words getting swallowed by the swell of a string quartet and the mindless chatter of a thousand people I mostly despise. I’m navigating through a sea of tuxedo-clad vultures and women wearing diamonds expensive enough to fund a small
The door to my office swings open with a force that suggests the person on the other side doesn't believe in the concept of a waiting room. I blink, checking my watch. I just hung up the phone with Owen Kingston ten minutes ago. Ten. "Wow," I say, a dry chuckle escaping my throat. "That was fast.
"OWEN!" I bolt upright, my heart hitting against my ribs like a trapped bird. For a split second, I’m convinced it’s the shadow woman from my dreams, calling out to me from the void. I blink, trying to orient myself. I’m in a room that smells like vanilla and flowery soap. Right. Sydney’s place.







