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Eros Undone
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2024-11-12 00:20:42Hi❤️ Don't forget to leave me a review.
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**EROS** Eros stumbled down the hallway, dread twisting in his chest as he searched for the son of a bitch. Tristan, of all days, had decided not to show up. The locker—the spot where they had agreed to meet—was empty. He stopped in his tracks, anger pulsing through his veins. Teeth clenched, he glared at the locker, his entire body tensed. He’d nearly ended up under the guillotine because the idiot couldn’t control himself, and now he couldn’t even be bothered to show up? The memory of Nico's words sent a chill down his spine. They hadn’t been a joke. Eros could still picture Nico’s face when he’d told him everything he knew about Myles. It had been a desperate play, a scramble to prove himself. Maybe he’d gone too far when he’d dug up that photo, but he needed Nico to know where his loyalties lay. Nico had paced, a look of dark disbelief on his face as he stared at the picture, then he chuckled. “So that’s all it took? A pretty Latino?” The mocking laugh made Eros’s heart sink.
Last Updated : 2024-11-13Break The Ice Family Ties.
Eros wasn’t wrong. Following a goon, hands buried in my pockets, I stepped into the hall, a hundred stares landing on me. I cursed under my breath, grimacing for everyone to see. If I’d known I’d be stumbling into an event at the Boss’s home, I’d have sat this one out. But it was too late for regrets; at least it was quiet here, with a classical tune in the background—every bit different from the loud thump of the club I’d just left. “This way, sir.” The butler called, leading me up a grand staircase. The carved balustrades were a magnificent work of art; Uncle Nico had always had an eye for beautiful pieces, taking his time with them, unlike my father, who had drifted from everything he grew up with. I looked up, and there he was at the top of the stairs, looking down at me. I held his gaze, my grimace intact so he’d understand just how pissed I was.“Oh, come on.” My uncle rolled his eyes. “Fine, I made a mistake with the timing and should have notified you. I forgot… Come here.
Last Updated : 2024-11-14Break The Ice His Ballerina
**MYLES**The plan was to keep recovering until next week. I’d let Mum keep me home Wednesday and Thursday, but by Friday, I couldn’t wait any longer. The moment I walked into the barn, I felt his eyes on me—like a velvet knife, slicing through my clothes and into my thoughts. But I didn’t look back at him. Instead, I turned to the far end of the room, where Leo was watching Jade, who was struggling to pull on her boots, frustration written all over her face.They were next on the ice rink for the figure skating club, but Jade looked ready to explode. Then, her eyes met mine. The boots dropped from her hands, her eyes widening. "Myles," she mouthed.I smiled, and in the next second, she was racing toward me, throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace. I held her too, ignoring the attention she’d drawn and the slight pain digging into my sides.“You’re going to be the death of me,” she whispered, something warm and wet soaking into my shirt. “You’re going to be the fucking death o
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**Oh God!** I groaned through a mouthful of tacos, licking my fingers. "I love your mum, Myles! Oh my God, this is so good." Leo, seated on Myles's study desk, shot me a look that screamed, *Seriously, Jade?* Meanwhile, Myles, standing beside him, chuckled and kept explaining his math working. We were at his house. I sat cross-legged on his bed next to a tray stacked high with tacos. Natalie was nowhere to be found—she had left the room with Myles's mum twenty minutes ago. A smile spread across my face, warmth filling my chest, as Myles gave Leo a playful slap on the back of his head. He had no idea how happy I was. It was obvious why he'd hidden his address from us—Myles was ashamed of where he lived. But suddenly, he wasn’t anymore? What changed his mind? Whatever it was deserved a kiss on the cheek. I loved the coziness of his room as much as I loved his mum, with her cute Mexican accent. I groaned again. "Oh God!" Leo turned to glare this time. "Really? Are you going
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**MYLES** *Today. 6pm.* His text had said, and at that moment, my stomach sank. Even the laughter around me couldn’t drown out the unease twisting in my gut. Two hours later, after everyone had left, I pulled my hood over my head and walked to the deserted road where I was always picked up. There he was—not his driver, but Tristan himself, sitting behind the steering wheel. My brows knit, more in annoyance than shock. Great. So much for those two peaceful hours before the storm. Gone. “The front seat,” he said as I approached, not even glancing at me. I slid in next to him, shutting the door behind me. He started the ignition and pulled onto the road, his expression still unreadable. I studied the side of his face, trying to gauge his mood or his thoughts, but it was blank. The tension filling the car gnawed at my insides, warning me this wasn’t good. I turned to the window instead, refusing to let his mood swings keep me on edge. But no matter how hard I tried to relax,
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**TRISTAN** *'...I can't stop talking to Natalie.'* My fist clenched on the bar counter as I stared into the golden liquid in my tumbler. That little pain in the ass. How could one fucking person grate so hard on my nerves? What would I have done differently if it were someone else, not those puppy-brown eyes looking at me from across the table? I downed the glass in one frustrated gulp. Maybe, for starters, I wouldn't have had him at my *fucking* table. The bartender refilled my glass before I could call out, his sea blues lingering right on my zipper—a blatant open invitation. Normally, I’d take it. God knows I needed the distraction tonight—anything to silence the voice in my head or the heat crawling under my skin. But for some reason, I wasn’t interested. Grabbing my glass, I left the counter for an empty sofa tucked in the corner of the room. The club buzzed with life—flashing neon lights, bass-heavy music pounding against my skull—but it all blurred into white noise. Ha
Last Updated : 2024-11-18Break The Ice Rage/Lust
**TRISTAN** Agreed too quickly—far too quickly for a girl who decided to bestow her attention on him only a month ago. Despite the smirk tugging at my lips, I felt my blood boil. What was wrong with me? I didn't know if I wanted to kill him—tighten my fingers around his throat—or fuck him hard. "You always make bad decisions," I breathed, soaking in the hatred his eyes exuded. "Tell me about it," he retorted. I gripped his waist, nails digging into his skin. He winced and swallowed. He looked so beautiful this way, from the damp waves of his hair down to his toes, and I hated how obvious that was, even as rage coursed through me. And that clear skin... I pressed my fingers deeper into his neck. Give it time—it wouldn't stay that clear. "Come on now," I whispered. "Get on your knees." He drew a deep breath, but he didn’t hesitate, sliding down until he was on the wet floor. Before my arousal, he blushed red but kept his eyes locked on mine. And that... that sent blood
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**TRISTAN** "...Get your fucking uncle in order!" Detonations and a feminine scream accompanied the angry order. For Eros to call it a glock, he was in trouble. I groaned, leaving the mini bar, the half-filled glass forgotten for a moment. It was almost two, and here I was, still drinking myself to stupor. "Tristan! Are you there?!" Eros's voice cut through my confusion. The screeching, the gunfire—it was all giving me a headache. "Jesus Christ, man! I'm going to die. Call your fucking uncle!" I massaged the side of my head, walking to the window. "Why do you think it's Nico?" "I don't know..." he snarled. "Maybe because he's been on my case since he found out about the little sessions you have with M..." He stopped himself just in time. I bit back a smile. "Just call your uncle and sort this shit out!" I walked back to the counter, taking the tumbler and listening to its quiet slosh. Picking up the house phone, I punched in the very familiar number. At the first ring,
Last Updated : 2024-11-20
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I dashed into the hospital, unsure where I was going, ignoring the nurses calling after me with warnings and Jake throwing them apologies as he hurried to get me."Calm down, Myles," he said after snatching me by the shoulders. "You won't find your mum if you lose control. Calm down."So I did, reining in my panic and following behind him as he led me past numerous white doors. According to what he told me, she’d collapsed on the terrace and was just fortunate he was passing by, so he’d taken her to the hospital.Collapsed. Mum never collapsed—she wouldn’t. Mum was strong, but maybe, just maybe, she’d been strong for too long.Five minutes later, I quietly turned a knob and silently walked into a ward, just in case she was asleep, but I was relieved to find her talking to a nurse.When she saw me, a tired smile broke across her lips, and despite my damn self, tears began to brush my lids.I stopped, staring down at her bed, scared that if I spoke, I’d break down completely—in front of
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MYLES."...And he threw a tantrum. Can… you imagine that…" Natalie's voice trailed, her eyes darting hesitantly between Jade and Leo, then back at me.I shrugged."Uhh, are you two alright?"Obviously not, because at that question, Leo narrowed his gaze toward me, and Jade to Natalie. Did they get into a fight? Swallowing a mouthful of Coke, I glared. "You're dampening the table. What's going on?""Dampening the table?" Leo scoffed bitterly. "Jade looks quite happy, don’t you think?"I turned to Jade, whose gaze was just as fiery as Leo's. Muttering something unintelligible, she dropped her eyes to the table, pretending to study her fingers.Since middle school, when we became friends, Leo and Jade had never been so openly mad at each other. What exactly happened in the space of yesterday?Natalie gave a slow shrug, picked up her can of soft drink, and continued, “…so I told him I had someone I liked, so I didn’t want anything serious with anyone else, and he got mad.”Jade forced a l
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**MYLES** I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Sticking my nose where it didn’t belong, trying to defend someone who, for all I knew, got himself into this mess to begin with. If there weren’t traces of him being a cold-hearted, manipulative jerk, maybe his uncle wouldn’t have singled him out of seven billion people on Earth. What did I care if he was being used? I glanced at the bathroom door, listening to the shower still running. It’d been almost an hour since he went in. Was he... I squared my shoulders and sank back against the sofa. The question was: *was he being used?* With how easily he got into people’s heads... I rolled up my sleeves, staring at the red dent around my wrist, and grimaced. *Fucking Asher.* If this wasn’t karma, I had no idea what was. In the shadows, he’d pinned me against the wall, his eyes fixed on the hickeys on my neck. Smirking, he’d said, “He’s a big fish. I don’t even blame you.” His face twisted into mock hurt as his grip on my wrist tightened.
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We stayed in silence, eyes locked, and every time his hardened, I felt my rage soar. He got it all wrong. He thought—that I... and Tristan... He got it all fucking wrong.His eyes lit up—snarky, intrusive, amused—as he raised his glass, swirling the deep crimson liquid with a dark kind of menace. The silence grew heavier, and for just a flicker of a moment, I swore I saw something cross his face. Regret? No. That couldn’t be it.Or maybe the terror was finally making me lose my damn mind."You’re ruining everything I’ve built." His voice came soft, dangerous, a murmur threaded with warning, like he was talking more to himself than me. I froze."Tristan isn’t just anyone," Domenico continued, his eyes flicking up to mine, sharper than a knife. "He’s my sweat, my blood, and my empire."I stopped, narrowing my eyes.He said it like that meant something. Like Tristan wasn’t flesh and bone, wasn’t someone who laughed, who smirked, who... cared. No—Domenico didn’t see Tristan as a person at
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TRISTANThroughout the ride to the Manor, Myles doesn’t look at me. His eyes stay fixed on the windshield, watching the lights spill onto his ashen face. His fingers tighten around the strap of his bag.The vans continued to follow behind us, their bright lights illuminating the road. Each time they beeped, Myles flinched.What was going through his mind? I wanted to know. If only I could read his eyes, but he didn’t spare me a glance.“Questions you want to ask?” I broke the silence as I parked in the center of the Manor's compound, questionable-looking men surrounding us, surrounding him. Waiting for us to get out.Myles finally looked at me, his eyes hard and accusing. “Something tells me I’m about to have them answered anyway.”It stung.I shut my eyes and exhaled. “You’ll be out of here in no time. He’s my uncle; he’s not going to hurt you.”But Myles, a bitter smile crossing his face, glanced around the compound and muttered, “Your uncle. Well,” his hand reached for the door, wh
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EROSThe chase had stopped, ever since the night they spotted him scaling Jade's window. He hadn’t seen them again.Perhaps the Godfather decided Myles wasn’t worth the fuss now that he was no longer seeing his most priceless possession. But the real question was—would Tristan keep it that way?Eros had known the bastard since they were eleven, the grey-eyed boy whose gaze was just as soulless as the Boss’s—maybe worse. The only human who could make the Boss’s demeanor shift.They became friends, more out of necessity than connection, but as days passed and chaos surrounded Eros at every turn, he realized maybe the grey-eyed monster wasn’t so bad. Eros knew bad—his father, his stepbrother—but Tristan? Tristan had looked out for him.So, they became best friends. Even though Tristan was always one step away from plunging him into his grave, he had also always found a way to get him out of it.It was over, right? His father didn’t want him dead anymore, right? So why was he squatting by
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‘Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep…’ The sound grated against my nerves, cutting through the quiet of the afternoon. Standing at my window, I resisted the urge to grab my hockey stick and chuck it at the smug bastard below.Tristan sat casually in the driver’s seat of his sleek black car, his head tilted back like he had all the time in the world. He didn’t look impatient—no, that would require some level of normal human behavior. Instead, his gaze was locked on me, sharp and unyielding, as if daring me to ignore him.I cursed again, clutching the strap of my practice bag. He said four. Four! Not three, not three-thirty—four. And yet here he was, honking like a madman an hour early, as though time itself bent to his whims.I glanced at the clock again. 3:01.He’d been here for one minute and already made it feel like an eternity.Taking a deep breath, I swung the window open and leaned out. "Tristan, what the hell are you doing?"He grinned up at me, that infuriatingly perfect smi
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JADE "What the hell is he doing?" Natalie sneered, her eyes—along with hundreds of others—fixed on the figure at the center of the school wielding a water pipe. "That's nudity! How do they allow it?" Leo cleared his throat loudly, flipping a page of his book. "Apparently, you're the only one not into him. Right, Myles?" Myles frowned at Leo. "What does that mean?" Leo said nothing, returning his gaze to the show before us. At the center of the school compound, watering the flowers lined along the walls, was Tristan. But somehow, it seemed the pipe had gone out of control, drenching the thin white shirt he wore. The material clung to his skin, leaving little to the imagination. From the second floor, we had a perfect view, close enough to make out every swell of his muscles—and by God, was this Greek god built. Girls oohed and ahhed, swooning each time he moved, each time he looked up squinting, and every damn time he "accidentally" flexed. But I saw it. None of this was a clums
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**TRISTAN**After the brawl in my house days ago, I drove back to the condo, three pairs of eyes digging into my face, waiting for me to spill. I walked past them, striding to my room and turning in the key.In the darkness, I lay, watching the wall, my phone beside me, waiting for the call, yearning for the ring. His rage etched on his face replayed in my head. For an addict desperate for a taste of him, I really continued to fumble things up.He was going to call. He had to call.Two days later, he did. "Can you pick me up?"He didn’t need to ask twice. I just didn’t expect to see him there—in the parking lot of a hidden bar. Stopping right in front of him, Myles dove into the front seat, eyes pinned out of the windshield, hands still stuck in his pockets.Without another word, I drove down the road to the condo, waiting for his protest, but it never came. I kept the silence, my thoughts filling with questions I needed to ask.But it was as though Myles was hell-bent on making me su
