The days following my unexpected encounter with the fashion agent passed in a blur. I tried to push the thought of modeling out of my mind, but it lingered like a nagging whisper in the back of my head. I’d look at the business card she left with me, tucked into the pocket of my coat, and feel a strange mix of excitement and fear.Claire, of course, wouldn’t let it go.“You need to at least go to the meeting,” she insisted one evening over dinner at the apartment. She had been excited about the opportunity since the moment it presented itself, determined to see me follow through. “It doesn’t mean you have to sign up for anything. Just go see what they say. What’s the worst that could happen?”“I could trip in front of them, make a fool of myself, and realize I’m not cut out for this at all,” I said dryly, stabbing my fork into a salad.Claire rolled her eyes. “You need to stop doubting yourself, Cassandra. This is a chance to do something different, to put yourself out there. Besides,
It was an autumn morning in Paris, the kind of day that carried the promise of something new with every cool breeze. I had started a small routine—waking up early, taking a walk around the neighborhood, and stopping by the café near my apartment for coffee before heading to Claire’s boutique. The city still affected me, the beautiful distraction I desperately needed. It was almost therapeutic, just being part of the hum of life here.I pushed open the café door, the soft chime of the bell welcoming me into the familiar warmth. The scent of freshly brewed coffee hit me instantly, comforting and grounding. I stepped up to the counter and ordered my usual—a cappuccino—before taking a seat by the window, watching the world outside.As I waited for my order, my thoughts drifted to the modeling offer. The agency followed up with me yesterday, wanting me to sign a contract. Claire was ecstatic, urging me to do it, but I was still hesitating. It felt like such a leap, like diving headfirst in
The sound of pen on paper felt strangely final. I sat in the sleek office of the modeling agency, my fingers trembling slightly as I signed the contract. I was officially a model now. It had all happened so quickly, from the chance meeting with the agency’s talent scout to the follow-up meetings that eventually led me here. As I glanced up, Victoria smiled at me, her red lips curving into a pleased expression. “Bienvenue dans le monde du mannequinat, Cassandra,” she said ‘welcome to the world of modeling’, her French accent as polished as her appearance. “I have no doubt you'll do very well here.” I managed a small smile, though my heart was pounding in my chest. This was it—a new chapter. Something completely out of my comfort zone, but maybe that’s exactly what I needed. “Thank you,” I said softly. “I’m ready.” Victoria handed me a sleek folder with details about my first few jobs. Fashion shoots, brand endorsements, and even a runway show. I’d be diving straight into the
Three years. It had been three long, turbulent years since I’d last seen Killian. A lifetime had stretched between then and now, each day pulling me further from the woman I used to be—the woman who clung to a broken marriage, who sent him meals to the office just to feel a part of his world, who refused to sign the divorce papers out of fear of losing him completely.But that woman was gone now.I took a deep breath as I stepped out of the sleek black car that had brought me to the meeting. My heels clicked on the polished marble floor of the high-rise building in the heart of New York City. The glass walls reflected the cityscape, the view breathtaking, but my focus remained sharp, my heart pounding with anticipation and a hint of dread.This meeting was crucial. Claire’s fashion brand, which I had become deeply involved in over the past few years, was at the center of an exciting new venture. A potential partnership with a major conglomerate. It would mean expansion into new market
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and I stepped out onto the street, my heart still racing from the encounter with Killian. Three years. I thought that time would heal everything, that I had buried the past deep enough to keep it from clawing its way back. But seeing him again, speaking to him—it had rattled me more than I cared to admit.I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm swirling in my chest. The meeting was done. The deal was moving forward. That was all that mattered. Claire had been ecstatic when I told her about the potential partnership with Lannister Enterprises, and I couldn’t let my personal history with Killian ruin that.But as the days passed, I couldn’t escape the feeling that the universe was pushing us back together.A week after the initial meeting, I found myself sitting in the sleek conference room once again, surrounded by executives from both companies. The negotiations were progressing well, but Killian was always present, always watchin
“No!” I shouted, my hands shaking. “You don’t get to act like you cared! Where were you, Killian? Where were you when I was bleeding on the floor, begging for someone to help me? Where were you when I lost our child? You weren’t there. You never were.”His face paled, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel harder. “What are you talking about?” His voice was softer now, almost afraid of the answer.I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady myself, but the tears were already brimming in my eyes. “The baby,” I whispered, the words heavy with grief. “I lost the baby, Killian. Seria pushed me, and I lost the baby.”Killian’s eyes widened in shock, his face going slack as the weight of my words sank in. For the first time again. I was seeing emotions on his face. “No...” he breathed, shaking his head as if refusing to believe it. “I—I didn’t know. I didn’t—”“Of course, you didn’t know,” I spat, cutting him off. “You didn’t care to know. You were too busy with
The feeling started subtly—just a slight discomfort at first, like someone was watching me. It was easy to dismiss at first. Paris was a bustling city, after all. People were always around, rushing past on the busy streets, tourists snapping pictures, locals darting in and out of shops. But as the days wore on, the feeling intensified.Every time I left my apartment, I couldn’t shake the sensation of eyes on my back. A chill would creep down my spine, and I found myself glancing over my shoulder more than usual. There was never anyone there, of course—just the usual crowd, strangers passing by without a second glance. Yet, the unease lingered.I tried to tell myself it was just paranoia. After everything that had happened—leaving Killian, losing the baby, moving to Paris, starting a new life—it was only natural that I’d feel vulnerable. The memories of Seria’s cruel words still gnawed at me, and I was dealing with my own demons. But this was different. This wasn’t just in my head.Cla
The soft murmur of waves and the distant cry of seagulls pulled me from sleep. The light filtering through the white curtains was warm, bathing the room in a golden glow. For a moment, I lay there, disoriented, the remnants of sleep still clinging to me.I wasn’t in the hospital anymore.Sitting up slowly, I looked around the unfamiliar room. The bed was large, covered in crisp, white sheets, and the wooden beams of the ceiling were high above me. The air was fresh, salty, with a gentle breeze rolling in from the open window. The room itself was simple yet elegant—polished wooden floors, a small seating area, and a door that likely led to a bathroom.Where am I?I swung my legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool floor beneath my bare feet. My heart pounded in my chest as I walked toward the open window, my pulse quickening with each step. Pushing aside the gauzy curtains, I was greeted by a breathtaking view—a long stretch of white sand beach, crystal clear water, and the lush
I couldn’t shake the sense that something was off. Killian had been quieter than usual, his gaze distant even when we sat side by side. His words, when they came, felt like placeholders for thoughts he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—share. Every glance told me he was keeping something from me. I didn’t need to ask why there were men stationed outside our house, their figures half-hidden among the shadows of the trees. The last incident had rattled him. He was being careful, protective as always and I totally understand it.“Killian,” I murmured, my fingers brushing the cool surface of the window, “Can I go outside? Just for some air?”He looked up from his laptop, his eyes softening as they met mine. For a moment, his guard slipped, the edges of his face relaxing. “Alright,” he said, closing the laptop with a quiet snap.He stood from the couch, moving with the silent precision that had become his second nature. Killian always accompanied me now, shadowing my steps, his presence like an unspo
We were now lying on our bed, resting from that intense lovemaking. The warmth of Killian’s body pressed against mine was a welcome contrast to the cool breeze drifting off the ocean. His hand traced lazy circles on my back, his touch gentle and soothing in the aftermath of our passion.I closed my eyes, resting my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. My mind felt hazy, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his breathing and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. It was peaceful here, with him, in a way that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Like everything that had been chaotic in my life finally made sense when I was with Killian.But just as the calm began to settle deep within me, a familiar knot twisted in my stomach—a reminder of the memories I couldn’t reach, the pieces of my life that still felt so distant and broken. It was as if there were parts of me hidden behind a thick fog, moments I couldn’t quite touch, and that scared me m
Killian’s hands were rough as they slid down my bare skin, his touch igniting fires wherever he grazed. The cool sea breeze against my heated body did little to calm the flames that roared to life under his grasp. His lips never left mine, devouring me with a hunger that matched the wild beat of my heart.Before I could catch my breath, he broke the kiss, leaving me gasping as his eyes raked over my body, dark and possessive. There was an intensity in his gaze that sent a tremor through me, making me feel both vulnerable and powerful all at once. He didn’t speak, but the way his eyes burned into mine told me everything—he was going to take his time with me, here, in the open, where the only witness was the sky and the sea.I tried to catch my breath, but he gave me no time to recover. In a swift motion, he knelt before me, gripping the back of my thighs as he spread my legs. My back pressed against the cool stone behind me, but the chill was a welcome contrast to the heat radiating be
Killian stood at the stove, his back a perfect canvas of lean muscle shifting with every subtle movement. The sight alone made heat coil in my belly. He wasn’t doing anything particularly provocative—just cooking—but there was something undeniably sexy about the way he moved. After what we’d done in the bedroom, hunger for food should’ve been the only thing on my mind, yet here I was, craving him all over again.I slipped off the stool, my bare feet silent on the cool floor as I approached him. Without a word, I slid my arms around his waist, pressing myself against his warm, solid body. The scent of him, a mixture of the sea and something uniquely Killian flooded my senses. My heart gave a telling lurch, a reminder that while parts of my memory were still missing, my body recognized him. This was my husband, the man I loved, even if I couldn’t remember every moment we’d shared.Killian hummed, a low, content sound vibrating through his chest as he leaned back slightly into my embrace
Killian’s lips found the sensitive skin of my neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as they traveled lower. Each kiss was slow and deliberate as if he was savoring the taste of my skin. My breath hitched when his mouth dipped to the valley between my breasts. The warmth of his tongue against my skin sent a ripple of electricity through me. I couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped me, my back arching as if my body instinctively sought more of his touch. My toes curled, the pleasure so sharp it felt like I was experiencing it for the first time. The way he moved—every kiss, every lick—left me trembling, desperate for more.“Killian…” His name came out in a breathless moan.His lips closed around my nipple, and I gasped, a jolt of pleasure mixed with the sharp sting of his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. Pain and pleasure blurred together, sending shockwaves through me. My fingers dug into his hair, pulling him closer as if he could drown the ache that was building inside
I woke to a heaviness weighing down every part of me like my limbs were anchored to the bed. My skin felt too tight and burning hot, and my muscles throbbed with a dull ache that wouldn't let up. A groan escaped my lips as I blinked against the harsh light spilling through the room, trying to adjust to the brightness that stabbed at my eyes. Through the haze, I saw him—Killian—moving across the room with quiet grace, his hair damp from the shower, a wet towel in hand. He hadn’t noticed I was awake yet. I tried to speak, but my throat was raw like sandpaper had scraped against it.“Killian…” The word rasped out of me, barely audible. Even my own voice sounded foreign.At the sound of his name, his head snapped in my direction, concern clouding his dark eyes. He was at my side in an instant, gently easing me back onto the pillows when I tried to sit up. “You need to rest, darling,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, like a warm blanket wrapping around me.I nodded weakly, too ti
The warm, salty breeze caressed my skin as I stepped out of the small house, my bare feet sinking into the soft sand. The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden hue over everything, and the rhythmic sound of the waves lapping at the shore provided a soothing backdrop to my thoughts.I still felt unsettled. Even though Killian had tried to explain his reasons for bringing me here, a nagging feeling lingered in the back of my mind. I couldn’t shake the sense of being trapped, of having no control over my own life.As I walked along the shoreline, letting the cool water kiss my ankles, I noticed a small boat anchored a little ways off the beach. A man stood beside it, pulling in a fishing net, his figure broad and lean, with tanned skin gleaming under the sun.Killian.He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his muscles flexed with each pull of the net, droplets of water clinging to his skin. He was speaking with an older man, a fisherman by the looks of him, who appeared to be helping him hau
The soft murmur of waves and the distant cry of seagulls pulled me from sleep. The light filtering through the white curtains was warm, bathing the room in a golden glow. For a moment, I lay there, disoriented, the remnants of sleep still clinging to me.I wasn’t in the hospital anymore.Sitting up slowly, I looked around the unfamiliar room. The bed was large, covered in crisp, white sheets, and the wooden beams of the ceiling were high above me. The air was fresh, salty, with a gentle breeze rolling in from the open window. The room itself was simple yet elegant—polished wooden floors, a small seating area, and a door that likely led to a bathroom.Where am I?I swung my legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool floor beneath my bare feet. My heart pounded in my chest as I walked toward the open window, my pulse quickening with each step. Pushing aside the gauzy curtains, I was greeted by a breathtaking view—a long stretch of white sand beach, crystal clear water, and the lush
The feeling started subtly—just a slight discomfort at first, like someone was watching me. It was easy to dismiss at first. Paris was a bustling city, after all. People were always around, rushing past on the busy streets, tourists snapping pictures, locals darting in and out of shops. But as the days wore on, the feeling intensified.Every time I left my apartment, I couldn’t shake the sensation of eyes on my back. A chill would creep down my spine, and I found myself glancing over my shoulder more than usual. There was never anyone there, of course—just the usual crowd, strangers passing by without a second glance. Yet, the unease lingered.I tried to tell myself it was just paranoia. After everything that had happened—leaving Killian, losing the baby, moving to Paris, starting a new life—it was only natural that I’d feel vulnerable. The memories of Seria’s cruel words still gnawed at me, and I was dealing with my own demons. But this was different. This wasn’t just in my head.Cla