A sharp sting snapped me back."Ow!" I flinched, trying to pull my hand away, but Xander's grip didn't budge."Stay still," he said, his voice low, calm—soft, even. "It'll be over in a second."This guy. His mood swings were wilder than a summer storm, and I was no closer to figuring him out.The nurse worked quickly, skilled and efficient. In no time, she pulled out a glass shard and held it up like a trophy. "See? It's pretty big. If you hadn't gotten this out, it would've just kept hurting, stuck like that."I stared at the shard, trying to remember when I could've gotten it. It must've been when I smashed that ashtray earlier.The nurse disinfected my wound and wrapped it with a bandage. Just like that, I was done. Good to go."Thank you," Xander said to the nurse and finally released my hand.I pulled it back awkwardly, staring at the bandage for a beat before looking at him. "What about you?""What about me?" Xander blinked, then caught on. "I'm fine. Not a scratch."Ok
I stood close enough that my voice dropped to a soft, teasing lilt. It was on purpose—I wanted to see how far I could push him.They say men are terrible at resisting a little flirting. Time to test the theory."Your place," I murmured, adding just enough suggestion.But Xander didn't even blink. Cool as ever, he stepped back, putting a safe gap between us. "Let's go to yours."It was almost irritating how unshakable he was, like Hayden had been when we first met. Always calm, always in control, no matter how hard I tried to trip him up.I took him back to my apartment, and while he got to work in the kitchen, I stayed in the living room, stealing glances at him.He tied on the apron Hayden used to wear. The way he moved—washing, chopping, everything methodical and precise—it hit me like déjà vu. For a split second, it felt like Hayden was right there.I let myself believe it, just for a moment.But then reality crept in like always, poking holes in my fantasy, and the cycle st
"Come and eat," Xander called.I didn't move, just watched him as he set the table. "Come on, give it a taste," he coaxed.Under the soft dining room light, he looked so much like Hayden. The way he moved, the way he stirred the soup earlier—everything about it was familiar.You can fake a lot of things, but those tiny habits? The stuff you don't even realize you're doing? That's harder to fake.So... Xander had to be Hayden, right?That thought pulled me to my feet. I walked over and stopped behind him. Before I even knew what I was doing, I wrapped my arms around him, resting my face against his back.His body tensed, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he said softly, "The food's ready.""You're Hayden, aren't you?" I whispered.Xander didn't say a word.I moved around to face him, gently grabbing his shoulders to turn him toward me. "There's no one else here, just us. You can tell me the truth. Please... tell me you're Hayden. Okay?""I'm not," he said, his voice cutting th
I froze.Did he just... reverse-rizz me?My cheeks went hot, and I realized too late that I'd totally walked into his trap. All this time, I'd pegged him as some clueless rookie, but nope—dude was playing in the major leagues.Not bad.I fought back a smirk, keeping my expression cool. "Don't flatter yourself."I put down my bowl, breezed over to the couch, and turned on the TV.Meanwhile, Xander was annoyingly unbothered. He cleaned the table—wiping off the soup I'd accidentally sprayed on him, washing the dishes, even tidying up the kitchen."Mind if I use your bathroom?" he asked."Knock yourself out," I said, keeping my eyes glued to the screen.But I couldn't shake his earlier comment. It lingered, like a song stuck in my head, making it impossible to act normal.Maybe it was because part of me really had thought about him staying over."I'm gonna take a shower," Xander added, snapping me out of my spiral.He stood there, cool as ever, like he was daring me to twist hi
I didn't answer him directly. Instead, I asked, "Jace, how did you know I almost got hit by a car?"Hearing I wasn't hurt, he let go of my arm and leaned against the doorframe. "Of course I know," he said, letting out a bitter laugh, "because I had someone secretly protecting you."Protecting me?Translation: he'd been having me followed.The realization lit a fire in me. My chest tightened with anger, and a cold laugh slipped out before I could stop it. "Wow. Your people are top-tier, huh? I almost got hit by a car, and nobody swooped in to save the day.""You're right," Jace admitted. "I've already fired him." His eyes flicked back to mine. "I've also got someone looking into who hit you."At least that saved me the trouble. "Let me know when you find out," I said bluntly.He didn't answer, just leaned there, looking drained.He might've been fine loitering, but I wasn't. Especially since Xander was still inside my apartment."Jace, it's late. You should go home," I said, ma
I was startled. "Jace, you..."But before I could finish, he swiped the blood away with the back of his hand, turned, and walked off. My legs twitched, like they wanted to follow him, but nope, I stayed put.Maybe it was better this way. If he kept pushing himself like that, maybe he'd finally leave me alone.Xander came, his eyes zeroing in on the bloodstain. "Whoa, are you mad at me? I didn't mean anything—I just thought he was annoying you, so I stepped in."I ignored him and shoved the clothes I was holding into his hands. "Just go, Xander."He hesitated but eventually headed to change. When he came back, his bag of dirty clothes was in one hand, and in the other? A wet wipe.To my surprise, he crouched down by the door, wiping up the blood Jace left behind.The second the door clicked shut behind Xander, I collapsed onto the couch.I sat there for what felt like hours, my brain stuck in a loop of Jace coughing up blood on repeat. When I couldn't sit anymore, I flopped onto
On my way to the breakroom, I casually asked a few coworkers, "Mr. Shane didn't come in today?"They exchanged looks, barely holding back laughter. It only made me more curious. "What's the deal? Something happen to him?""He got scratched up!" one finally blurted."His girlfriend probably did it," someone else chimed in."Who knew she had claws like that?""Yeah, well, he was at a nightclub. Honestly, if I were her, I'd scratch him up too."The chatter snowballed from there, painting a pretty clear picture: Ron wasn't in because he had a visible scratch on his face and was too embarrassed to show up.When I got back to my desk, I couldn't resist giving him a call. Not to poke fun—just, you know, check in. After all, he'd always been nice to me.The moment he picked up, Ron didn't even give me a chance to say hi. "Don't listen to the nonsense those gossiping hens at the office are saying. None of it's true."His denial was chef's kiss classic—the guilty dog barks first. I play
"Do you remember who it was?" Ron pressed again."I think you need to focus on healing and getting back to work," I said lightly, dodging. "Your daily check-ins are the highlight of my day." Then I hung up with a laugh.Wayne stepped inside as I set my phone down, placing the bouquet on my desk. He studied me for a moment. "It's been a long time since I've seen you smile like that.""It was our boss," I said, using Ron as my cover story. "He got scratched up by his girlfriend and was complaining to me about it.""Let me guess—he went to a club," Wayne said, casually. "I saw him there."My pulse stuttered. He saw Ron? And Ron mentioned seeing someone who looked like Demi. If Ron wasn't mistaken, then... did Wayne see Demi too?And if she really was in Seavora, what about the person she was so terrified of?I'd always had my suspicions. That person might just be Wayne."Is that so? Seems like all you men have a thing for places like that," I teased, watching for a reaction.Wayn
In the hospital room, James held up his phone, snapping selfies from left and right. After examining the pictures, he muttered, “Who’s the shameless person claiming I’m seriously injured? If they have the nerve to say it, I don’t even have the face to admit it.” All he had was a slightly reddened bump on his forehead from hitting the seat—no cuts, no bruises. Yet the unscrupulous reporters painted a picture of him being half-dead, making it headline news. Just earlier, he’d received a tearful phone call from his mother, who’d cried her heart out over the exaggerated reports. “If you feel bad about letting people down, go find a rock or a concrete wall and hit your head harder. Then it’ll be believable,” Aaron quipped, earning a sharp glare from James. “You’ve got some nerve, Aaron! That car I crashed was brand new—just picked it up yesterday. You owe me!” James grumbled, clutching his chest in mock heartbreak. “My assistant will be here later. If you can still walk, go pick up
“Damn it, Aaron, you—ah, hell…” James’s head slammed into the seat, making him howl in pain. The car came to a screeching stop, smoke billowing from the hood. But the scariest part wasn’t the damage to the car—it was the sight of the driver’s side, crumpled from the impact. Aaron sat there, his face growing visibly paler. He glanced at his trapped arm, then slowly closed his eyes and said in a low voice, “Call 911. Don’t call the police.” “What do you mean, don’t call the police? Who’s going to pay for my car?” James groaned, clutching his throbbing head. “I’ll pay. I’ve been drinking,” Aaron muttered, his words earning a string of curses from James. - When Lena opened her eyes, it was 5:30 a.m. Despite having gone to bed late, she woke early, her mind unusually alert. She stared at her surroundings, familiar yet strangely distant. It took her a few seconds to remember—she had moved back home from Aaron’s place the previous night. Letting out a deep sigh, she grabbed her
Aaron’s fingers tightened slightly around the glass of milk, his dark gaze flickering faintly. Lena, sensing the tension, held her breath. She was already regretting her words, thinking of an excuse to explain further, when Aaron spoke. “Alright,” he said simply. He agreed. Lena exhaled in relief, quickly reaching out to take the milk with both hands, like a child trying to behave. “Thank you, Uncle.” She wasn’t sure if she was thanking him for letting her go so easily or for thoughtfully preparing the milk. Holding the glass, she retreated to her room as quickly as possible. Aaron stood in place, watching her until she disappeared from view, his gaze dropping only when she was out of sight. Now that he had agreed, Lena began packing her belongings. She didn’t have much—she’d always been someone with few material desires. When she first moved in, it was with the intention of staying temporarily, so her things were limited to what she had brought with her. It didn’t take l
“I don’t smell any alcohol,” Lena muttered. Aaron leaned closer, his flawless face coming within a breath’s distance of hers. Lena’s nerves tightened like a spring, her pupils dilating as she stared at his face so close to hers. Her heartbeat pounded like a drum, loud and unrelenting. “How about now? Do you smell it?” Aaron’s voice was low, smooth, and intimate. The closeness made her focus solely on his lips—perfectly shaped, not too thin nor too full. They looked soft, and the thought of kissing them briefly crossed her mind. An inappropriate and utterly ridiculous notion, yet there it was, popping into her head uninvited. Amidst her quickened breaths, she seemed to catch a faint hint of sweetness, mingled with a subtle, intoxicating aroma of alcohol. It was… oddly pleasant. Her hand gripped the edge of the counter tightly. She dared not move, let alone breathe deeply, afraid that the smallest action might bring her lips to his. If it were anyone else, she might have pu
Tonight, Lena had stayed late at the hospital for surgery. When she returned, she didn’t see Aaron’s car and assumed he wasn’t home. Without having eaten dinner, she cooked some noodles and was chatting with Keira while eating. Out of nowhere, Aaron appeared. He was dressed in loungewear, his hair slightly damp as if he’d just showered—clearly, he had been home all along. “Uncle… you, you’re home?” Lena stammered, hurriedly trying to turn off her phone. In her flustered state, she accidentally knocked over the bowl of noodles she had barely touched. She was embarrassed, frustrated, and downright annoyed. What a mess—starving to death, and now the noodles were gone too. Aaron, having clearly overheard Keira's voice message, seemed completely composed. He walked over and stopped her from grabbing at the spilled noodles. “Let me handle this. Did you burn yourself?” “No burns, just scared by you,” Lena replied as she finally managed to turn off the voice message. As Aaron clean
“Kiki, I promise to give you an opening ceremony that will surprise and delight you. Please agree, will you?” Hayden pleaded, holding Keira's hand like a spoiled child. He rarely pressed her for anything, and his insistence puzzled her. But seeing his sincerity, she could only nod. “Fine, but don’t turn my courtyard into a chaotic mess, and definitely don’t invite irrelevant people.” This small courtyard was her serene haven. She enjoyed making tea for visitors and watching the sunrise and breeze when alone—it was enough for her. “As you wish, Mrs. Hart,” he exclaimed, excitement lighting up his face before he kissed her swiftly on the cheek. However, after the kiss, he didn’t let go. Instead, he gazed at her for a few seconds before his lips landed on hers again. It had been a long time since they kissed so passionately. As his kisses deepened and his arms tightened around her, she could clearly feel the changes in his body. Keira was already past her third month of pregna
“What did Sasha come to talk to you about?” That evening, as Hayden dried Keira's hair, he asked her softly. He rarely pried, but he must have noticed her low spirits ever since Sasha left and figured something was on her mind. “Do you think the Drago family’s influence has been completely eradicated?” Keira asked, her question making Hayden pause mid-motion. “On the surface, it seems so,” he replied, turning off the hairdryer. “But Thorsten had loyal confidants over the years. It’s possible there are still remnants left unchecked. Did Sasha notice something?” Keira shook her head slightly. “She told me she opened a private bank account, one that no one knows about. She said if anything happens to her—if she’s gone suddenly or meets with some accident—I should ensure the money is kept for Nina.” Hayden frowned, his gaze turning serious. “For her to bring this up out of nowhere, something must be wrong. Do you think she’s worried the Drago family's remnants might target her?
When Keira's parents first passed away, she missed them so much it felt like self-inflicted torture. She clawed at my own skin until it bled, as if the physical pain could dull the ache of losing them. The saying "longing cuts to the bone" couldn’t be truer. “She’s impossible—just like her father, stubborn as a mule,” Sasha muttered. Patience had never been her strong suit. “Bring her here next weekend when she’s not at school,” Keira offered. “I like Nina.” “Great, I’ll pay you babysitting fees.” Keira gave her a faint smile. “My rates are very high, you know.” They strolled around the courtyard, and Keira eventually led her to a tea table where they sat down. She started preparing tea for her, letting the tranquil act of brewing set the tone. “Keira,” she suddenly said, her tone unusually serious. “You’re living such a peaceful and carefree life now.” Around the fire, brewing tea—it wasn’t just about the drink itself. It was about savoring the taste, reflecting on lif
What an entrance! Everyone turned to look at the source of the bold voice. A tall woman strutted in, dressed in a mix of luxury and extravagance: a fur coat on top, leather pants on the bottom, and a pair of oversized sunglasses perched on her nose. No one seemed to recognize her, and whispers began to ripple through the courtyard. “Who is she?” One of the bolder ones shot Hayden a look and joked, “Is this one of your unresolved affairs?” Unfazed, Hayden replied calmly, “She’s not here for me.” Keira, however, wasn’t surprised by the woman's sudden appearance. Nor did she hold back. “Who are you, and why would we need to notify you?” This remark drew curious glances toward her. The woman, unfazed, swayed her hips dramatically and smirked. “You’re acting all high and mighty already, and you’re not even Mrs. Hart yet?” Her words immediately shifted the attention to Hayden. It was a clear jab at him for not having formally married Keira yet, suggesting he’d shortchanged he