LOGINThe afternoon light cuts clean through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Marcus Vance’s office, throwing long rectangles of gold across the mahogany desk he spent three months picking out. He leans back in his chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, the kind of posture that shows he’s the boss.“Senator Briggs, I understand your concern completely, and I want to assure you that the restructuring of the trust won’t affect your holdings in any significant —” He pauses, listening, turning a pen between his fingers. “No, sir. Not a single asset moves without your direct authorization. That’s my guarantee to you personally.” He smiles at whatever comes back through the line. “Exactly. Golf Thursday, we’ll go over the full breakdown then. My assistant will confirm the — “The door opens. No knock. Just opensThree men fill the frame in a way that has nothing to do with their physical size, though they are large — the kind of large that comes from specific, intentional living. Dark clothes, no
Elena The faint smell of fresh espresso and toasted garlic floats through the heavy mahogany door, dragging me out of the deepest, most undisturbed sleep I’ve had in months. I blink against the bright morning sun cutting across the king-sized bed. For a second, I’m disoriented, until the dull, unmistakable throb between my thighs reminds me of last night in my head. A slow, involuntary smile pulls at my lips as my face flushes hot. Last night was amazing, the way he looked at me like I was something to be conquered, then thoroughly ruined. I roll over, reaching out a hand, but my fingers meet only crisp linen. The other side of the bed is made—not just empty, but looking as though it wasn't even slept in. The realization stings, a sharp little prick of reality that deflates the morning haze. Right, I remind myself, sitting up and drawing my knees to my chest. This was just sex. Brilliant, mind-shattering sex, but just sex. Beyond that, the heavy gold band on my left hand sudden
Jaxon The heavy oak front door clicks shut, sealing the humid Manhattan night out and locking the two of us inside the quiet luxury of my brownstone. I shed my suit jacket, tossing it over the baneter, before turning my full attention to Elena. She stands in the dim foyer, looking around with wide, expressive eyes that take in the high ceilings."Can I get you something to drink?" I ask, my voice smooth, pitch-perfect. "Wine, perhaps?""Wine sounds perfect, Jaxon," she murmurs, stepping further into the light. She reaches for the zipper of her heavy winter coat, sliding it down. "Your house is beautiful. It looks exactly like you—meticulous… dark.”"I'll take that as a compliment," I reply with a low chuckle, stepping into the kitchen to pour two glasses of a deep, velvety Barolo.When I walk back into the living room and hand her the crystal glass, my breath catches slightly. Without her coat, her curves are on full display, hugged tightly by a ribbed knit dress that accentuates
Elena “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage our next showcase. An exclusive preview of emerging and returning talent in contemporary design and fashion. Put your hands together as we continue tonight’s show!”The applause from the other side of that curtain sounds like a different world entirely.I’m standing backstage in a slip of fabric that qualifies as a corset set. Deep wine red, boned through the waist, Maya’s own design — with my arms folded across my stomach and my eyes doing a full sweep of every model in this room. There are maybe fifteen of us back here. All of them, every single one look like they were assembled specifically for this. Long legs, cheekbones that look like they could cut glass, the kind of walk-ready posture that looks effortless but takes years.There are plus size girls here too. Beautiful ones. Bold, radiant, completely at home in themselves and their bodies.And still somehow, looking at every single one of them, I feel like I showed up
Elena A subtle knock on my door jolts me from my thoughts immediately. I barely have time to think of who it might be, before assuming it’s a maid and going to open the door. I’m surprised when I find Marcus at the other end. A frown makes its way on to my face instantly. “How can I help you?” I ask, standing by the door and refusing to let him in. “Can we talk, please? Inside.” He asks. I hesitate. Whatever he has to say, he can say it here. It’s his fault we’re leaving like this. A married couple sleeping in separate rooms because the husband couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Maya was right. I really should get these people out of my house. I honestly have no idea why I hesitate every time I think about it. It’s not money. I have money. From my inheritance. Even the amount I had saved up from when I used to model. I’d be more than fine if Marcus and I get a divorce. So, why the hell haven’t I filed for one? “We can talk here. Make it fast.” “I’d prefer not to
Elena Maya shows up at twelve-fifteen, same as always, two bags of takeout swinging from her wrist and that look on her face that means she already knows something’s up before I’ve said a word. “Thai or the salad place,” she says, dropping into the chair across from my desk. “I got both because I couldn’t decide for you.” “You never decide for me. You just bring both.” “It’s called options, Elena.” She slides the Thai container across the desk because she knows it’s the one I actually want. “Now eat and talk. You’ve got that face.” “What face?” “The face.” She points a fork at me. “The one that says something happened and you’re trying to figure out how to bring it up without me losing my mind.” I don’t even try to deny it. I tell her. All of it. Maya’s chopsticks freeze halfway to her mouth. “He stopped?” “He stopped.” “On purpose?” “Mhmm,” I murmur my mouth full. “On purpose.” I stab at my noodles, more annoyed than I want to admit. “I went home and I was so —” I search
Elena"Hello, Elena.”His voice is a low, heavy anchor, pulling me back from the edge of the shame I’m drowning in. I’m huddled under the soft cotton sheets, the phone pressed so hard against my ear that it hurts. My breathing is shallow, and I know he can hear every hitched inhale through the spea
Jaxon The vibration of my phone against the mahogany nightstand is the first thing that pulls me out of a restless sleep. I swipe to answer, my voice a low, morning rasp. "Deluca." "Good morning, Doctor," Sarah, my assistant, chirps with a level of energy I find offensive this early. "Just con
ElenaThe hum of the Lexus was the only thing grounding me as the suburban streetlights gave way to the jagged, neon-stained outskirts of the industrial district. My hands were still shaking, gripping the leather-wrapped steering wheel until my knuckles turned a ghostly white. Every mile I put betw
Elena The office air-conditioning was humming a low, sterile tune that usually helped me focus on the grant proposals piling up on my desk. But today, the hum felt like a drill. My head throbbed with the ghost of last night’s silence, the kind of silence that Marcus used to suffocate me until I a







