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
After Deckard is gone, I turn to the head of security, who is currently sweating through his jacket. "Call a meeting," I instruct. "I want to see every guard in this building, now." Ten minutes later, I’m standing in front of a line of men who look like they’d rather be facing a firing squad. "
Oh... fuck. That’s the only thought that manages to claw its way through the white noise of my panic as I look up at the gallery. Tobias Moore is leaning over the railing, staring down at me with complete disgust. I’m standing in a pile of crushed flowers, my chest heaving, and for a second, I fee
I gasp, leaning closer. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It’s not just the stones; it’s the history. It feels like it’s vibrating with the glamour and the tragedy of the woman who wore it. "Oh my god," I breathe. "It’s perfect." "I agree," he nods, watching my reflection in the gl
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







