He wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t be at school the next day, or the next, or even the day after that. I wasn’t exactly looking for him—it just seemed weird that Eros was present and he wasn’t. The green organism moved, and I kept my eyes locked on it. Where had he even gone? What exactly does he do?“Boo!” came a voice from behind, and I scrambled away from the microscope, heart thudding in my chest. “Told you, Leo,” Jade snorted. “He’s here, but not with his senses.”Leo sighed, “Yeah. You’re right.”“Now pay up.”We were in the biology lab, lab coats over our regular clothes, and in front of us lay a dissected owl pellet—an experiment long forgotten as Leo counted dollar notes and handed them to a beaming Jade.“You guys are unbelievable,” I huffed, returning to the microscope.“You know what’s unbelievable?” Jade leaned across the table, looking at me dreamily. “That your phone’s been off all day.”With that feigned look, I knew I was in trouble. “Uh, yeah. I had issues wi
"I highlighted the main points from last week’s lectures. You missed quite a bit." She bit into an apple, talking through a full mouth. "But don’t worry, I’ve got you covered." I flipped through her notes and couldn’t help but smile. "Thanks, Nat. Really." She made it so easy to be around her, as if she were bent on proving me wrong about every incorrect assumption I had. Not once did she turn her gaze away from me, and unlike me, she wasn’t conscious of the whispers around us. Slowly, I was getting the hang of it. I carefully set her books aside. "I should be done with them by tomorrow—maybe even before your first class." She waved me off, swallowing. "No, take your time, Myles. I’m not exactly in a hurry to get them back. Besides..." She shrugged. "If I take them, they’ll just sit in my locker untouched." "Noted." I bit into my hamburger, savoring the flavor until it turned to ash in my mouth, noticing she was watching me. "More notes?" I asked through a full mouth. She smiled,
I dashed down the stairs and stopped in front of Diego, ready to pounce at the first wrong word out of his mouth."Where the hell is it?!" I snarled.Diego rose slowly, his movement calm, leisurely, and the men with him followed suit, the table groaning as it scraped across the floor. Their eyes flicked between Diego and me, alert, as though waiting for some unspoken signal.One of them shifted forward, his gaze fixed on me, jaw clenched, but Diego held up a hand. “Stand down!” he gave the man a rough shove. “This one’s stronger than you think.”Realization hit, bitter and fast. These men weren’t here by chance. I was the reason they’d gathered. Every clue the fucker took it. "Diego, where the hell is my money?!"He chuckled, "What money? You don't have any money."I marched up to him, fists clenched, eyes blazing. "Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about! Twenty thousand! Give it back, now!"My stepfather tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Twenty thousand,
The automated voice repeated, "The number you're trying to call is switched off, please try again later..." I let the phone drop, leaning back against the wooden pew chairs as my gaze lifted to the rink. Just in time, I saw George slam the puck hard into the post, then spit, his eyes landing on me with a silent challenge. The rivalry was a quiet one, as though we were in some sort of silent competition. Days ago, I might have thrown him a grin, but now I was too busy glaring at my phone, waiting for it to ring... any ring. Just like Eros had said—still no sign or word from Myles. It had been five days since he’d vanished and four days since his phone had gone dead. Yet I kept calling, dialing the same number over and over, hoping each time he might finally pick up. A shadow fell over me. I looked up to see Coach Daniel settling beside me. Slowly, I turned my phone screen down and looked out at the rink. "I thought you’d jump right back into the rink once you were back." He began,
I leaned against the door, heart racing with a mixture of dread and frustration. "Shit," I whispered, feeling the sweat dampen my shirt and the bandage beneath. "Shit!"He knocked again.I held my breath, wishing more than ever that I hadn’t come to the door, hoping he’d just go away. A chill seeped through me, filling every part of me with unease. How did he even find this place?Another knock.I glanced through the peephole. He was still standing there, massaging his temples, his face unreadable. I winced, remembering his rules about noise.I pressed my back against the door, reminding myself those rules only mattered in *his* place, not here."Myles," his voice filtered through the cracks in the door. "Open up, Myles."I turned back to the door, replacing my fear with frustration, twisted the knob, and pulled it open again, coming face-to-face with the smirking figure in front of me."I was about to come in through the window," he said.I glared. "What the hell are you doing here?
**TRISTAN**I felt his eyes on my back as I moved to the sink, holding the used chopping board. Turning on the water, I paused, then called out, “Something you want to say to me?”His response was quick. “Like you shouldn’t be here? What do you think you’re doing?”It was an hour since his mum left and he hadn't spoken a word to me, he didn't have to; the irritation on his face when I moved was loud enough.The fruit particles washed down the sink. Hanging the board on the wall, I picked up the bowl of fruit salad and walked to the counter where he sat, setting it before him. I leaned down, holding his gaze. “We had a deal: you be available whenever I need you, and I keep my end.”“I told you I would make up for that...”I raised a brow. “Now how would you do that? By screwing me twice as necessary?” Even as I said it, the words tasted bitter, but something had to drive the point home.He winced, recoiled back into himself, then looked away, nodding. “If that’s what it’d take, then ye
**MYLES**I was awakened by bickering in my room, and even in my sleep, I frowned. The only voice I recognized was Tristan’s; the other, a feminine voice dominating the “conversation,” was unfamiliar.“…You think you’re just going to tell me you had nothing to do with this and I’m just going to believe you? You know me better than that, Tristan Emiliano Medici!”“You also think if I had a hand in this, I’d be here with medical help?” Tristan’s voice was tired as always. “I just want to know how you got into med school.”“Take that back!” she screeched.I flinched. If this was what Tristan dealt with, I could understand why he made silence a rule. Despite myself, I grunted, and immediately felt two pairs of eyes on me.“Great,” Tristan gritted, “you woke him up.”And I didn’t want to be. There was a stranger in my house—one stranger, and one enemy whom I let use me whenever he wanted. It wasn’t exactly a holiday.I began to push myself to a sitting position, but then froze, falling bac
My throat went dry and rough when I tried to gulp. His expression was too blank to tell if he was joking, but I could see the challenge in his eyes. I shouldn't have said anything."I'll pay you. But not now," I said, glancing at the wall. "I'll get it in a week.""No," he cut in, his voice still quiet. In a flash, he was in front of me, grabbing my chin and glaring into my eyes. "I want it now. Come on, give it."A week ago, I would’ve shoved him aside, thrown the cash at him, and demanded he leave. But not today. Right now, I didn’t even have a hundred to my name.As if reading my mind, he dropped his hand. "Then suck it up. You'll never be able to pay me, so get used to being indebted to me."The admission hits like a punch to the gut, and I can’t bring myself to look at him. Exhausted, I glance away, the fever creeping up. He was right. I was going to be forever indebted to him—so indebted I'd do nothing but watch him invade every part of my life. Minutes later, he took the tray
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
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
**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.
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
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
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
‘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
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
**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