Aiden's pov Sunlight crept through the curtains, warming my skin before I was even fully awake. I blinked against the light, shifting slightly, only to feel a soft weight pressed against me. Artemis was curled into my side, her breath slow and steady, her fingers resting lightly against my chest. Her hair was a mess of tangles across the pillow, and her lips—God, her lips—were slightly parted, like she’d fallen asleep mid-sentence. Last night hit me all at once. The game. The teasing. The way she looked at me before pulling me in. I smirked, my fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on her back. She stirred at the touch, humming sleepily before pressing closer. She is so hot despite her hair like a mess, very rare. I see her and I see a future. I mean it's not even up to a year I met her and I can see the future with her, which leaves me wondering, what will the future actually look like without her? Maybe me and some dumb blonde plastic girl, who cares about money and nothing, w
Artemis' POV The jet touched down with a soft jolt, and I exhaled slowly, staring out the window at the familiar skyline. We were home. A part of me was relieved—the week in Paris had been nothing short of magical, but there was something about returning to familiar ground that made me feel grounded again. Aidan’s hand found mine as we prepared to disembark. “Back to reality,” he murmured, his thumb tracing slow circles against my skin. I smiled, squeezing his hand. “Yeah. But I’m kind of ready for it.” Aidan gave me a look—half amused, half skeptical. “You say that now. Give it a day, and you’ll be begging to go back.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. Paris had been like a dream, filled with quiet mornings wrapped in his arms, stolen kisses by the Seine, and nights where it felt like the world outside didn’t exist. But as much as I had enjoyed it, I knew we couldn’t stay in that bubble forever. There were things waiting for us here. Responsibilities. And, if I was being honest, a gnawin
Kane’s POV Moana was a place of shadows and whispered deals. Nestled between high-rise buildings and the kind of streets where power lurked behind every closed door, it wasn’t just a lounge—it was a hunting ground for people like me. I sat in a dimly lit booth at the back, nursing a glass of whiskey. The low hum of conversation blended with the slow jazz music Rainbows of Love by Lonnie Liston Smith playing from the corner of the room, creating the perfect ambiance for backdoor dealings. The patrons of this establishment weren’t the kind to ask questions. They knew that secrecy was the currency here. And tonight, I was here to make a very particular transaction that some are going to cry over but who cares so long as I get what I want every other person can die for all I care. The door creaked open, and I immediately recognized the man who stepped in. Victor. Victor was a seasoned private investigator, the kind of man who could dig up any dirt you needed—or create it if the truth
Artemis’ POV I was never the kind of woman to listen to gossip. The media loved to spin stories, to twist reality into something unrecognizable. I had spent enough of my life under scrutiny to know better than to believe every headline. But this felt different. It started small—too small for me to notice at first. A strange shift in the air, the way the household staff exchanged glances when they thought I wasn’t looking. The way Daymon hesitated before speaking, as if carefully choosing his words. Then came the murmurs. At first, they were background noise, easy to ignore. But the more I tried to push them aside, the louder they became. "She has no idea." "How long until she finds out?" "Poor girl. She really thought he’d changed." I brushed it off—until I couldn’t. The breaking point came when I walked into the study and saw a magazine casually tossed on the table. It wasn’t mine. Someone must have left it there. I wasn’t going to pick it up, wasn’t going to entertain whate
Aidan’s POV I paced the length of my office, feeling like the walls were closing in around me. The tension in my chest was suffocating, my fists clenching and unclenching at my sides. The headlines had exploded like wildfire, the whispers in the house growing louder. The picture had done exactly what it was meant to do—plant a seed of doubt in Artemis' mind. And now, no matter how much I tried to refute it, she wasn’t convinced. Because it looked real. I’d seen the image too many times now, staring at the details, searching for the flaw, the misalignment, anything to prove it was fake. But whoever had doctored it had done a damn good job. The lighting, the angles, even the slight way my head tilted toward the red-haired woman—it all made it seem believable. And that was the problem. Kane. I knew it had to be him. The bastard had been waiting for a chance like this. And I had walked right into his trap. I grabbed my phone, dialing the number I knew by heart. Daymon picked up on
Artemis's Pov The air felt heavier inside the estate, suffocating me with the weight of betrayal. I needed space. I needed to breathe. Most of all, I needed to be somewhere Aiden wasn’t. After slamming the door in his face, I stood there, heart pounding, staring at the wooden surface as if expecting it to shatter under the force of my emotions. My fingers trembled as I curled them into fists. I hated feeling like this—weak, vulnerable, and worst of all, like a fool. I thought I knew Aidan. I thought what we had was different. I considered him an angel, my man. But now, every whispered rumor, every suspicious glance from the staff, and every news article seemed to scream the same thing “You were wrong.” I wasn’t going to sit around waiting for him to prove his innocence. If he truly cared, he would have never let it get to this point. Hw would've never tortured me like this. Without another thought, I packed a small bag, throwing in essentials—my phone, a few clothes, and the bare
Aidan’s POV The whiskey burned as it went down my throat, but it didn’t do anything to calm me. My hands were clenched into fists, my chest rising and falling heavily. Artemis was gone. Not just ignoring me—she left. And the worst part? She was with him. Daymon. I had called her so many times, sent her messages, but she wouldn’t answer. The only thing she sent back was a text. "Don’t look for me. I need space." Space? She needed space from me but ran straight to Daymon? That alone was enough to make me lose my mind. I ran a hand down my face, trying to think, trying to breathe. But all I could see was that damn picture of me and some red-haired woman. A woman I never met. Kane did this. That bastard set me up. And I wasn’t going to sit back and let him ruin everything. But first, I needed to deal with something else. --- I slammed the car door shut as I pulled up in front of Daymon’s apartment. The building was quiet, the streetlights casting long shadows. I didn’t even
Tensions Rise Daymon’s POV Artemis sat curled up on the couch, her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared out the window. The city lights outside flickered against the glass, but her expression remained unreadable. She was here, safe in his penthouse, yet she felt miles away. Daymon knew she was hurting. He had known Artemis long enough to recognize when she was forcing herself to be strong, even when she was breaking inside. Aiden had done this to her. Aiden. Just thinking about him made Daymon’s jaw clench. He hated seeing Artemis like this—heartbroken, doubting herself, questioning the love she had given so freely. And for what? Aiden’s recklessness? His inability to protect what he had? I know maybe I'm being harsh right now. Daymon sighed and walked toward her, setting a cup of tea on the small table beside her. “You should drink something. You haven’t eaten all day.” She glanced at the cup but didn’t reach for it. “I’m fine.” “That’s a lie,” he said gently. Her lips
(Artemis’ POV) I knew something was wrong the moment I tried to stand. Pain. Sharp, deep, and all-consuming. For weeks, I had ignored the discomfort, brushing off Aiden’s concerns, assuring everyone that I was fine. I had always been strong—had survived things that should’ve killed me. But this? This was different. I braced myself against the vanity, sucking in a sharp breath. Aiden was already watching me from across the room, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable—but I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed, ready to catch me if I fell. "You should rest today," he said, stepping toward me. I rolled my eyes. "I’ve rested enough." "Artemis." His voice was firm, a warning. I turned, meeting his gaze, ready to argue—when the pain struck again. It was like my bod
(Artemis’ POV)Pregnancy wasn’t supposed to feel like this.I had expected discomfort, sure. I had expected my body to change. But this… this was something else entirely.The exhaustion was unbearable.At first, I thought it was just the lingering effects of our honeymoon—late nights in Paris, stolen kisses in hidden alleyways, and mornings wrapped in silk sheets with Aiden refusing to let me leave the bed. But then the nausea started, and I knew something was wrong.I tried to push through it, keeping up with my work, but even Naomi noticed."Boss, you look like you’re about to pass out," she said, frowning as she set down a stack of files. "You should rest.""I'm fine," I muttered, waving her off, but the moment I stood, the room spun.I barely heard Naomi calling my name before strong arms caught me."Artemis."Aiden.His voice was tight, controlled—but his grip was anything but. He held me as if I’d shatter, his eyes scanning me for injuries."You’re not fine," he said. "We’re goi
I woke up sore.A deep, aching soreness that was both a reminder and a warning. Last night had been… intense. More than I expected. More than I could have imagined. My body felt like it had been claimed, worshipped, and thoroughly ruined, all at once.Aiden wasn’t in bed, but the warmth on his side hadn’t faded yet. I blinked up at the ceiling, barely able to move, and then I smelled it—coffee. The scent curled into the room, rich and inviting, followed by the quiet creak of the bedroom door."You're awake."I turned my head and found Aiden standing in the doorway, carrying a tray.My stomach flipped. He was shirtless, his sweatpants hanging dangerously low, his hair slightly tousled from sleep. But it was the look in his eyes—the satisfaction, the possessiveness—that made my breath catch.He set the tray down beside me. A glass of water. Coffee. Toast. Painkillers."I figured you'd need this."I huffed out a laugh. "You think?"Aiden smirked but didn’t argue. Instead, he sat on the e
Artemis' POVParis.The city of love, of whispered promises, of things that felt like forever. It wasn’t the first time we had been here. The last time had been chaos—high-stakes deals, power plays, and the weight of a contract binding us together. But this time? This time was different.The garden where we stood was secluded, hidden away from the noise of the world. White roses lined the aisle, their scent mixing with the crisp autumn air. The Eiffel Tower loomed in the distance, its lights just beginning to flicker against the darkening sky.Aiden stood at the altar, watching me.No guards. No enemies. No ulterior motives.Just him. Just me. Just us.My dress was simpler than the first one I had worn. No heavy jewels, no extravagant embellishments—just clean, elegant lines that moved with me as I walked. But Aiden? Aiden still wore black, sharp and commanding, his presence impossible to ignore.As I reached him, he took my hands in his, his grip steady, grounding.“We’ve done this b
Aiden’s POVI wasn’t used to an empty house.The penthouse was quiet, the kind of silence that made me restless. Artemis had left early, slipping out before dawn, her scent lingering in the sheets beside me. She had a fitting today—something about finalizing designs before her next trip. I hadn’t asked for details, but I knew she was busy.I ran a hand down my face, exhaling.She was everywhere, even when she wasn’t here.The coffee machine was still warm, the cup she’d set aside for me untouched. A plate covered with foil sat on the kitchen counter—breakfast she’d made before she left, knowing I probably wouldn’t eat if she didn’t.In the closet, one of my suits was laid out, ironed, with a note tucked into the sleeve: Wear this one. You look good in navy.She did things like that. Little things. Thoughtful things.For someone who had grown up fighting for every scrap of control, she gave so freely—to me, to the people she cared about.And I—I hadn’t given her nearly enough.I leane
Aiden’s POVFor the first time in my life, there were no contracts. No lies. Just her.But peace was an unfamiliar thing.I still woke up before dawn, instinctively reaching for the gun that wasn’t under my pillow anymore. My body was trained to react before my mind even processed that there was no longer a war to fight. My enemies were either dead, exiled, or too afraid to make a move.Yet, I found myself restless.The empire was still mine. The city still ran on quiet threats and well-placed alliances. But Artemis had planted a dangerous thought in my head—what if I ruled differently? What if I built something that wasn’t always on the verge of burning to the ground?She was asleep beside me, her breathing steady, her body curled toward me like she belonged there. And she did.I ran a hand down my face and exhaled.I couldn’t just sit still. That had never been my nature.So, I got up.---The sun had barely risen when I walked into the warehouse where my men were gathered. Conversa
Artemis' POVThe battle was over, but the aftermath lingered. Scars—some fresh, some old—marked more than just skin. The weight of the past did not simply lift because the fighting had stopped.I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Aiden pace near the window. His reflection in the glass was sharp, rigid, like a man still expecting a knife in the dark. The empire was his now, but peace was foreign to him. Stillness felt unnatural."You don’t have to stay," he said, his tone measured, unreadable. "You’ve done enough."It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t even a suggestion. It was a defense mechanism. Aiden didn’t push people away forcefully—he gave them an exit and waited for them to take it.I tilted my head, pretending to consider. "And if I don’t want to leave?"His gaze flickered toward me, just for a moment, then away again. "Then you’re a fool."I rolled my eyes, standing. "That makes two of us."I closed the distance between us and pressed my palm against his chest, feeling the steady
Aiden’s POVThe study smelled of aged whiskey, leather, and cigar smoke—just as I remembered it from my childhood. Nothing had changed. The same books lined the shelves, the same decanter of bourbon sat untouched on the desk, and the same man occupied the chair at its head.I stood in front of Don Carlo, the weight of everything that had led to this moment pressing down on my chest. Kane was gone. Hera was locked away where she belonged. The war was over. And yet, the victory tasted bitter. It felt like exhaustion.My father—Don Carlo—sat behind his massive desk, his expression unreadable. The same man who had doubted me. The same man who had once called me weak."You’ve proven yourself," he finally said, voice heavy with reluctant acceptance. "The empire is yours."I didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I studied him. The man who had shaped me, tested me, pushed me to the edge time and time again. And for what? To prove I was worthy of something I never truly wanted?"You thought I’d
Aiden’s POVHera screamed as the guards dragged her away, her shrieks cutting through the air like the wail of a banshee. She kicked and thrashed, her dark hair wild, her emerald-green eyes blazing with madness."You can’t do this to me!" she screeched, her voice raw. "Aiden, you think you’ve won?! You think locking me away will change the truth?! You’ll regret this—I swear it!"I stood motionless, watching as the woman I once knew was forced back into the nightmare she had clawed her way out of. My hands were clenched at my sides, my pulse steady, my face unreadable.The weight pressing against my chest wasn’t fear or anger. It was relief. A slow, settling kind of relief that came when a battle was finally over.There was no regret. No hesitation.She belonged there.The black van’s doors slammed shut, muffling the last of her wails. The driver exchanged a brief nod with the men guarding the facility before stepping into the driver’s seat. With a low, mechanical hum, the vehicle roll