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Tyson woke up with a groan, his head feeling like it'd split open. Same nightmare as always. Same thing that haunted his dreams. It was always bad whenever he came back from Russia. This time it was worse. His hopes had risen so high, only to have it crushed into pieces. Back to square one.He pulled out a bottle of painkillers from the drawer, popped one and swallowed. Each trip to Russia drained him more than the last. As he stood in front of the huge panoramic windows of his bedroom, he stared into Manhattan's nightlife. How long had he been asleep? After sparring with Lyra, he showered and took something to help him sleep. He needed it, especially since he'd barely slept this past week.Tyson moved across the room to the table. He reached for the framed picture that usually sat there and exhaled—a constant reminder of how much he'd fucked up. Then he opened a drawer and placed it inside carefully.Even would be fine again. It had to be.He'll make sure of it. He'll fix it.A
Lyra took a moment to take in the sight before her.The garden had been transformed. White roses and lilies spilled from elegant floral arrangements, while candles lined the stone pathway, their flames flickering beneath the evening sky. In the trees, warm fairy lights glowed and somewhere in the background, a violinist played Ed Sheeran’s ‘Perfect’. Suspended above were illuminated letters that spelled: WILL YOU MARRY ME?At the center of this circus was Alex. He got on one knee, a small ring box open in front of him. Then he waved a hand, gesturing for the music to stop. “Lyra—”“God, no.” Lyra shook her head, but Alex went on anyway.“From the day you agreed to being my girlfriend, I knew you'd be my wife. I knew you'd—”Disgust climbed up her throat. “No, no. Hell no,” she murmured, head still shaking as she turned to leave. Instead of Tom at the entrance, it was Fiona standing there. Her eyes were already pleading before her mouth opened. “Just hear him out. Please.”“I'd rather
Lyra reached for her bottle of water, gulped down, then wiped her mouth. “If you can't keep up, just say so.”Tyson studied her for a moment, noticing the way she held the bottle with more force than necessary. “You're angry.”She just shrugged, bouncing on her feet instead, fists up. Yet she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Why would I be? Did you do something wrong?” Tyson went still for a second. There it was— The trap question.He exhaled and shifted his stance, like he was actually thinking. “I don’t know. Am I too good that my twin doesn’t measure up?” He smirked. “I imagine that must be frustrating.”Her fist flew. He caught it. His fingers closed around her knuckles, calloused and warm. For half a second he didn’t let go. She felt the grip tighten then release, like he was deciding whether to hold on.“I didn’t use it,” she snapped, yanking her hand free. “And not like it’s any of your business. Daphne was just trying to mess with me.”“Of course.” His smirk faded, his expression tur
Daphne lingered in the corridor, away from the noise as she spoke to Lyra. “Hey babe, what’s up?” Lyra’s voice came through, suspicious and amused. She was sprawled on her bed at home, yanking off a gold hoop earring. “You’re at the club, aren’t you?” “Just came for a few drinks. Work was stressful today.” “Yeah, that’s what you say almost every weekend.” Daphne laughed. There was a pause. Then Lyra’s tone sharpened. “Did you see my message?” “Oh shit.” Daphne minimized the call, swiped to WhatsApp, and scanned their chat. “Sorry, I didn’t see it. I like the blue one.” Lyra sighed, tossing the earring onto her dresser. “Yeah, that's what I picked.” She sat up and started pulling her brown hair into a messy bun, getting ready for a shower. “Some nice guy helped me.” Daphne grinned mischievously. “Is this a love triangle I sense? Sorry—love square, I mean.” “No, no. It's not like that.” Lyra unclipped the other earring. “Plus he’s way older.” Daphne raised a brow. “Don’t
Neon lights flashed across the crowded club, painting the dance floor in shifting shades of blue, pink, and purple.Music thundered through the room, bass thrumming, bodies swaying to its rhythm. The usual smell of alcohol, excitement, and perfume in the air.Daphne had just returned from the restroom where she took Lyra’s call. Easily, she blended into the sea of bodies, spotting a brunette and dancing with her.One song became two.Two became three.By the time Daphne finally stepped off the dance floor, she was pleasantly exhausted and in desperate need of a drink.That was when she spotted him—A man sitting alone at the far end of the bar. And unlike everyone else, he wasn't dancing. Wasn't flirting or trying to be noticed. Just quietly nursing his drink while watching the crowd.Interesting.Daphne smoothed down her black tube dress and headed straight for him.The man glanced up as she slid onto the stool beside him but Daphne didn't look his way. “Two shots,” she said to the
Lyra’s head snapped to Ethan's shocked and confused face. When their eyes met, she immediately realized herself and pushed away from Tyson. “Mr. Ethan…” Ethan just cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uhm, sorry. Excuse me,” he mumbled before disappearing. Lyra’s lips parted with mortification. How on earth did things keep getting worse? Then she glared at Tyson. “I hope you're happy now?” He didn't even have the decency to look guilty or sorry. His back was still against the wall, hands casually adjusting his rumpled white shirt that she'd squeezed. And that infuriated her even more. Why was he acting so unbothered even after everything he'd just done? “Happy?” His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as he smiled—half, smug. “I thought you didn't see anything? So much for the glasses.” Then his gaze dropped to the box with its torn wrapping lying on the floor. “Is that it?” “Don't!” Lyra snapped. She snatched the package on the ground, then gave Tyson a final glare before walking
“It wasn’t?” Tyson arched a brow. “I’m taking notes. Next time I’ll do better. What would you prefer? CNN announcing our marriage?” He rolled the sleeves of his black shirt casually, looking too relaxed for someone who'd almost given her—and Daphne, a heart attack. Lyra’s frown deepened. “You’re n
The next couple of days passed in a blur with Lyra adjusting to her new role at Helixion Energy while Tyson was away on a business trip.She had her first real meltdown yesterday when she'd taken time to disinfect her phone from Alex’s pictures, Nadine's pictures, the wedding dress, and anything el
“I'm waiting!”“Oh, o-okay.”The call ended.“God, Tyson, I hate you,” Lyra mumbled under her breath and glanced at the empty hallway. Thank goodness.She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for Dale. She couldn't even step inside to drop her bag—what if someone saw it when she left? Lyra g
In Mantha oil limited, Patrick just stepped out of his office, Magnus behind him. “A fucking public shootout?” Patrick gritted out. He clenched his fists until it felt like his fingers would break. “Does that even make any sense?” Magnus trembled behind him. “I-I… I don't—They said it was the







