Clara opened her eyes and looked out at the darkened countryside, the lights of the small town fading into the distance. Her smirk returned as she thought about the news reports and the manhunt. The media could paint her as a dangerous criminal all they wanted. In her mind, this was no escape—it was a reclamation of power. They thought they had her caged, their rules and walls capable of holding her. But Clara knew better. She always had a way out."They think they're hunting me," she whispered to herself, the words muffled by the soft hum of the train. She trailed a finger along the edge of her seat, her mind tallying up what she needed to do next. "But they're the ones being played."But it wasn't just freedom. It was proof she could outsmart them all—doctors, guards, boys in boots. Even Benedict. Her lips were clamped shut at the thought of that smirk on his face. Benedict Thompson. The man who thought he was better than she, who'd stolen her power and sent her to rot in a cold, st
Because this wasn't just about survival. It was about showing the world and everyone who had doubted her—that Clara Hemp was unstoppable.Clara Hemp's flight had been effortless. Under cover of darkness she had slipped away from the city and into a silent solitude which was perfect to disappear in. There were no flashing lights, nor wailing sirens, merely rustling in the wind against the leaves, occasional crickets to tickle her ear, and an earthy-warm scent: here was a place where she can formulate a scheme, regain herself, and perhaps devise how to get herself out of the place.She rented a tiny, dilapidated farmhouse in cash, with a fake ID, from an unsuspecting elderly owner. There was no one around for miles, and the closest town was thirty minutes away, so it made a perfect hideout. Her days were spent lying low, watching the news programs for any information related to the search for her, and nights spent studying her maps, planning her next move.Clara smiled to herself as she
"We'll face this together," Sabrina assured him. "Just like we always do." Leslie, Sabrina's mother, stood at the doorway with her arms crossed, unspoken authority in the air. "Yeah, we agreed on that, Benedict," she said calmly but firmly. "Safety first before anything else. Nothing else matters now.". Wendy, Sabrina's grandmother, nodded in agreement from her seat on the sofa. In her old age, she had a presence and an authority that few could challenge. "Leslie's right," she said decisively. "Family comes first. It always has been, always will be. The wedding can wait. Keeping you all safe is the priority.".Benedict nodded slowly, grateful for the support from Sabrina's family. "Thank you, both of you. It means a lot to have you here, backing us up.".Just then, Saben came bounding into the room as if he could read the mood turning. He alighted his face with excitement while clutching some small stuffed animal in his hand. He let out a "Mommy! Daddy! See! Mr. Bunny wears a new shi
The next morning sizzling bacon fragrance and freshly brewing coffee streamed out into the kitchen. Benedict remained by the stove with a folded dishtowel slung casually over his shoulder; he tenderly flipped hotcakes in a pan. A warm sunbeam filled windows by letting some light into the apartment.The kitchen door opens, and in walks Sabrina, throwing out her arms, sighing comfortably. She had her hair tied back in a loose bun and a T-shirt flowed loose over her pajama pants. "Good morning, " she murmured in a sleep-causing gentle but warm voice.Benedict turned to face her with a cup of coffee in his hand. "Good morning, " he counters with a grin. "Yes, I brought you coffee.".Her eyes lit up as she reached for the mug; her fingers brushed his in the move. "You're a lifesaver," she said, taking a deep sip. The warmth of the drink seemed to wake her up instantly. "And breakfast smells amazing."Benedict chuckled and jabbed a finger at the bag of fast food on the counter. "Not just ho
His gentle probe meeting no resistance, he pressed further. As he did, her lips parted more fully and their tongues met. Both sighing as their bodies melted together, they began kissing in earnest. Tongues swirling around one another, seeking, exploring.She raised her arms to rest on his shoulders and began caressing the back of his head as their tongues danced together. His right hand began sliding up her back, under her T-shirt as his left slid beneath the waistband of her bottoms. With a deft snap, her bra was unhooked and his hand began sliding slowly to her side, pushing the bra up and out of the way. A small gasp left her lips as his palm slid softly over her hardening nipple while his hand moved to cup her breast."Absolutely perfect," he thought to himself as his thumb lightly played over her nipple, exciting it further. Not too large, but definitely a handful, and he had large hands. Just right.His left hand followed the curve of her shapely ass and cupped first one and th
She bit down on her bottom lip as she looked directly into his eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly."Yes baby. Please make me cum," she whispered. Slowly, agonisingly, he planted wet open mouthed kisses down her body, savoring the taste of her skin. Her travelled lower into the crevice of his nostrils filled his head with her fragrance in the scent of her. Down her chest then between her breasts, his mouth moved slowly. Then over her stomach, tracing his way as he went down her sides were her hands. A playful circle around her bellybutton by his tongue as he drifted lower.His hands rested on her breasts as his mouth approached her mound, squeezing them and teasing her nipples with his palms. As he moved ever lower, she shifted her hips, spreading her smooth, full thighs wider apart. He paused for a moment to look at her before he continued. Her pink pussy lips were opened like a flower and covered in her juices. Barely peeking through its cloak was her clit, throbbing in anticipatio
His days were a blur of meetings, presentations, and late-night strategy sessions at his company. As the CEO, his responsibilities seemed endless, especially with the increasing demands of expansion projects and securing new partnerships. Yet, even amidst the chaos of corporate life, his thoughts always circled back to his family.He'd double-check the security system at home every morning before he left for work. He made sure every window and door was locked and monitored. He left very detailed instructions with the security team stationed outside their property, always telling them to be vigilant.Between reviewing financial reports and negotiating deals, he made quick calls to Sabrina at the office. He just needed to hear her voice to ensure she and Saben were okay.“Everything okay at home?” he’d ask, his tone gentle but concerned.“Yes, Benedict,” Sabrina would reply with a smile in her voice. “You’ve done everything but install lasers around the house. We’re safe. Stop worrying
She knew she had to wait until the dust settled, until the heightened vigilance around her escape began to wane. That was when she would strike. Clara wasn't interested in random vengeance—she wanted precision, a plan that would bring Benedict and Sabrina to their knees. It wasn't just about revenge; it was about reclaiming the power she believed they had stolen from her.Detective Morales sat in his office going through files and reports of Clara's case. Weeks had gone by and still, no Clara was found. His superiors were getting restless but Morales could not help the feeling that Clara wasn't done. She was too shrewd, too ambitious to simply disappear."She's waiting," Morales whispered under his breath as he tapped his pen against the desk. "But for what?Detective Morales leaned back in his chair, the weight of the case pressing heavily on his shoulders. Clara Hemp's escape had not only embarrassed the department but also left a lingering sense of unease that he couldn't shake. Th
Her fingers stroked the material. "Okay," she breathed.The boutique manager came back once more, and Eliana smiled, her voice more even now. "We'll take this one.""Good choice, Miss Thompson." The manager clicked her fingers together, obviously delighted. "We'll have it steamed and wrapped up to deliver this evening, or would you like to take it with you?"He rested against the door of the fitting room, arms crossed, suit perfect, tie razor-sharp—but jaw clenched, eyes contained, tracking her each movement in the mirror."You're staring," she said without raising her gaze."You knew you would."Eliana swung around reluctantly, glancing at him.The way he regarded her—it wasn't admiration. It was possession, and something in his eyes that bordered on restraint."Well?" she breathed. "Too much?"His gaze dropped to the V of the neckline, black, and up to her face."It's perfect," he said softly. "Perilously perfect."A silence. The whir of the boutique died under weight of air between
There was silence. Alexa was always too professional ever to say anything that wasn't absolutely imperative, but Eliana could almost feel the twitch of interest in the static."Oh, of course, ma'am. I'll alert Mr. Wolfe right away."The intercom clicked off.Eliana slowly breathing out through her nose, her fingers running along the top of the desk as if signing the lines of her own doubt.Why does the ring of his name feel like pulling on wire that had twisted hard against her ribcage?Damian Wolfe. Her shadow. Her bodyguard. The man whose lips whispered softly, and whose eyes whispered too loudly, leaving her quivering.It was not right—the way he gazed at her. The way he avoided gazing at her when he should have.As Nathaniel had been comfortable with the old version of her… Damian was comfortable with the woman she wasn't yet. With the one with burning rage, fear, and smoldering lust all twisted up in one.She sat back from her computer screen, attempting to escape in work, but he
She did not scroll to the top of her phone contact list. She did not have to. Damian Wolfe was the first on everyone else's list—just like Nathaniel Carter was. Two names. Two men. One choice she'd never been able to make.Until today.Her thumb was still hovering, her breathing even.One telephone call changed the direction of her life.Before she could get cold feet, she heard footsteps—heavy, slow, familiar.She turned.Damian stood in the doorway to her office.And something about the way he was looking at her—as if she were his shelter and his tempest—stole her breath."Eliana," he said softly. "I'm not going to press you. I swear. I just. I needed to confirm that you were okay.""I am not," Eliana said softly. "But I will be."He bobbed his head. "Good. Because I've watched you shatter and remade myself. I understand how strong you can be once you finally begin not to attempt to flee from yourself."There was something primal in his gaze, something smothered yet deeply well-wrou
Vincent smiled at her. "Does your security detail have a habit of crashing high-level meetings?"Noelle smiled to himself as he put away the tray."Men, take a five."Reluctance was there, but Vincent finally relented. "As you desire, bella."The others flowed out of the room, and he was left alone with her.Eliana stood in front of Damian, arms crossed, but her voice was filled with softness. "You didn't need to defend me like that."He leaned in over her. "I wasn't sticking up for you. I was reminding them who the hell you are.""I know who I am.""Then why are you allowing this world to destroy you just so you won't hurt?" His words cut her like glass."I'm not avoiding—You haven't even cried," Damian breathed, pulling another closer to her. "Not for the disaster Harper created. Not for Nathaniel. Not even for you."She pulled her face away. "If I do, I would not be able to stop."She waited. Then:"I'd defend you if you did."Her eyes were burning. She raised her face, and there
She hauled herself up, carefully brushing her matted hair out of her face, her heart slowed a bit now. More confident. Less frantic.Her gaze returned to the phone.No new messages.And for once, that didn't sting like abandonment.It felt like freedom.She stood, walked barefoot into the kitchen, and poured the forgotten tea down the drain. It had cooled. Like the version of herself who sat around waiting for someone else to pick her.That version had fallen silent now, too.A vibration on the counter startled her.Damian.Just his name. No note. Just a missed call.She gazed at it forever, then she murdered the screen's power. She wasn't ready—not for him, not yet. Perhaps never.She moved to the living room, attracted by the hum of the television behind her. Her brother's form glowed under the blue light, stretched out on the couch with a pillow over his face as if he hadn't intended to sleep but the rest of the world had otherwise."Saben?" she whispered.He groaned. "Mmhmm?""Did
The door closed gently, but to Eliana it was a gunshot.Her spine against the wood, she was frozen, her breathing barely more than a stillness. Her voice was still stuck in her throat, her heart bruising under the words she had said to Nathaniel-the words she had only recently realized for herself. "What have I done?" Eliana whispered into the silence, her voice faltering slightly.The Thompson estates did hulk over her in oppressive silence. The sort that did not forgive-it judged.Stumbling, she fell to the couch with her knees buckling under her. Her hand brushed against the thick cushion next to her, which Nathaniel would lean against for drawing her into himself and whisper, "You feel like home.""Then why do I feel so far from it now?" she whispered.Her phone flashed when she answered it. No messages. No missed calls. No apologies. No begging. No promises. Just her. Alone. With the wreckage of something she couldn't fix.She stared at Damian's name burning on her screen. Her t
Eliana resolved to speak with Nathaniel.Nathaniel's presidential suite door was too intimate. It repelled her.She’d memorized the weight of her hand knocking on it. The scent of his cedarwood cologne that always lingered in the hallway. The way her heart used to leap—used to believe—that she belonged here.But now, everything felt quieter.Not empty. Just. still.He opened the door after two knocks, like he’d been waiting. Like he knew.“Eliana.” His voice cracked the silence like thunder rolling in slow motion. “You’re here.”She nodded, catching her breath.He hadn't slept. Rumpled shirt, rolled-up sleeves. Hair ever so slightly too messy. Eyes ever so slightly too shattered.As if he'd been injured by her very indecision."May I enter?" she asked, knowing the response in advance. Nathaniel stepped aside. "You don't need permission."She entered as if it would be her last time ever pushing the door open.He stood there with arms crossed over chest, shoulder blade against the wall
The sun filtered a reluctant angle over Eliana's headboard blinds, tinting the floor in pale golden stripes as if someone was trying to make amends for a bitter, long-fought battle. She was lying on her side, the crescent moon charm still amazing her palm, her fingers clenched around it as if it might prevent her heart from breaking into fragments.But there was reality—that her heart was already broken. In more than one place.Tap. Light. Soothing."Enter," she breathed, already suspecting who it was.Sabrina entered, loose linen thrown over her, bearing a tray full of hot tea. She put it down on the floor without a word at all, eyes drinking in the broken pieces of her daughter's mind.Eliana sat up, legs tucked under her, hair wet from last night's rain. "May I ask you something?" she asked."Always," Sabrina replied, sitting on the bed, facing her."How did you know?" Eliana's voice broke. "How did you know Dad was the one? Was it easy?"Sabrina's eyes softened. "No. God, no. It w
The storm was over, but the earthy scent of the rain remained. Fragile mist curled from the window panes of Eliana's room; now the sun had to struggle to break free from the clouds, while everything around looked bathed in soft golden light. The world looked washed clean—fresh, mysterious, like a blank page with wet ink smeared at the edges.Eliana sat on the edge of her bed, the silver crescent pendant sitting quietly in her palm. She smoothed its curve with her thumb repeatedly, as though it would somehow open up a hidden answer to her if she pressed hard enough.The sketch Saben left lay beside her, and she’d stared at it until the ink seemed to blur and reshape itself. Damian on one side. Nathaniel on the other. And her—right in the middle, like a bridge being pulled at both ends.She hadn’t slept. Not really. Just drifted in and out of thoughts so loud they echoed inside her skull."You’re the shadow that never departed.""You were the light when I was shattering."Two truths. Tw