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
I stand by the kitchen island, ears strained, waiting for the sound of Owen’s heavy footsteps to return to the living room. I hear the bathroom door click, the sound of his footsteps walking towards me, and then nothing. Just total, absolute stillness. I set my lukewarm tea down on the marble count
The digital clock on my bedside table glows a neon blue, mocking me with the time: 2:14 AM. I’m wide awake, staring at the ceiling of my pristine new suite, wondering if Deckard would follow me here too, and ruin this new good that I've got. Then, the silence is broken. There’s a heavy thudding at
The best place to be in this world, is to be in Tobias's good graces, because I'm not getting fired. Yay! The drive to the new studio lot is one of the most agonizing thirty minutes of my life—and I’m not just talking about the dull, throbbing ache in my ribs. It’s the atmosphere. The air insid
I pump them again, panic surging through me, but the car just keeps hurtling forward. The last thing I see is the gnarled bark of a massive tree rushing toward me. CRUNCH! The world turns into a cacophony of shattering glass and groaning metal. Airbags explode in my face like a punch to the gut.







