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
"It’s small," he remarks, his lip curling in distaste. "It smells old and used. Is this really the life you’re choosing over the mansion? Over me?" "It’s a life where I can breathe. That’s worth the lack of square footage." I fold my arms across my chest, trying to build a barrier between us. "Why
My apartment feels hollow. Maybe from my nerves, or from the fact that I've still not filled up the space yet, but it certainly feels very hollow. Deckard... Deckard... Deckard. That unholy motherfucker. I run my hands through my hair as I pace the length of the living room, his threats still r
"Stop lying to me!" The shout erupts from my throat before I can stop it. The calm facade cracks, and the raw pain of the last few weeks pours through. "I’m not blind anymore, Deckard! I’m not that helpless girl in the hospital bed who believed every word that came out of your mouth because she had
The morning sun filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Grandmother Newton’s sunroom, giving a beautiful shimmer to the floral patterns of the upholstery. I am kneeling on the plush rug at Grandmother’s feet, my fingers steady as I adjust the brim of her favorite silk hat. She is insistent







