LOGINWell, it was easier to frame her as he kept her away, but still. The jealousy eats at me. "Unbelievable," I laugh bitterly, shaking my head as I take a step back toward the door. "I am trying my best to make things work between us, Deckard. I am out here breaking my back, protecting our son, and bu
I shift my weight, settling my hips comfortably over Deckard’s thighs, and let out a soft, pleased purr. Slowly, deliberately, I run my manicured fingers through his thick, dark hair, massaging his scalp in that slow, rhythmic way I know usually turns his brain to complete mush. He’s sitting on th
He 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
How do you know you've been fully integrated into high society? Well, when you get invited to an auction where the starting bid is more than your entire childhood home. I stand in the middle of a hall that smells like crisp bank notes and the kind of perfume that costs a month’s rent per spritz. I
Okay, so I know this is all confusing, and honestly, so am I. I’m currently gripping the steering wheel of my car tight enough to leave indentations in the leather. My mind is trying to put pieces together, but fuck, this memory gap won't let me. I want to get to the bottom of my accident, but no
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







