I yanked off my school clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a crumpled heap. The weight of the day pressed down on me, thick and suffocating. My body buzzed with frustration, my hands itching for a release, something to dull the gnawing ache in my chest.Pulling on a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt, I caught my reflection in the cracked mirror above the dresser. The face staring back at me looked different—hardened, weary. I was only eighteen, but I felt older, like life had taken a steel file to my edges, grinding me down until there was nothing soft left.Tonight, I had a fight. It was the one thing I could control, the one place where anger wasn’t a burden but a weapon. I had learned a long time ago that the world didn’t hand things out for free. You had to take them, bleed for them, fight for them.Kasi—Kaden’s girl—had introduced me to her father, the man who ran the ring. He saw something in me, a kind of hunger, and he gave me a shot.It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t
I stared at my reflection, but the girl in the mirror felt like a stranger. Tonight was the night. Dinner with both families—mine and Cameron’s.My stomach twisted at the thought, a slow, creeping dread curling around my ribs like a vice. The October air seeped in through my half-open window, chilling my skin, but it wasn’t the cold that made me shiver.Fingers trembling, I adjusted the delicate lace collar of my dress, a nervous habit I hadn’t outgrown since childhood. The dress was soft lavender, a shade my mother adored. "Elegant," she had called it, smoothing down its flowing skirt with the kind of satisfaction only she could muster. "Appropriate."Appropriate. How I loathed that word.Nothing about this was appropriate. Not the dress, not the dinner, and certainly not the boy I was supposed to sit across from. But my feelings had never mattered. My father had made that perfectly clear."It’s only right," he had said earlier, his voice firm but patient, as if I were some skittish
Soon, I would be Cameron's wife.The thought sent an icy shudder through me, a cold contrast to the fire that had been simmering beneath my skin for weeks. My stomach twisted, my fingers tightening against the marble sink. I needed control. I needed to breathe, to remind myself of who I was—who I was supposed to be.Before Cameron. Before this suffocating engagement.Before… Noah.I exhaled sharply, as if the very thought of his name had poisoned the air in my lungs. I had convinced myself I was over him.But the truth was far crueler.Noah wasn’t a memory. He was what I wanted my forever to be. He has feelings for me too, I can feel it.And then I saw him.Through the library window, bathed in the golden afternoon light, his head tilted toward Aria as he listened to whatever nonsense she was giggling about. She looked effortlessly perfect—long dark hair cascading down her back, eyes alight with something warm and inviting.My nails dug into my palm.Aria. The girl who had always been
I returned to school with a single mission: to reclaim control. Over my emotions. Over my heart. Over Noah Carter.For days, he had wormed his way into my thoughts, an unshakable presence that haunted me in ways I refused to admit. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. I wasn’t supposed to crave the very thing I’d once looked down upon. So, I did the only thing I knew—I buried it.I made sure my laughter rang through the hallways with my arm draped casually over Cameron’s shoulder and that my smile was wide and radiant whenever he whispered something in my ear. I let him touch my waist, let him pull me close, let everyone see exactly what I wanted them to see.That I was fine.That I was untouchable.That Noah Carter meant nothing to me.But I felt it before I even saw him. His eyes, burning into me like an open flame. When I finally turned, our gazes locked across the hall.Noah wasn’t indifferent.He wasn’t unaffected.There was something dark in his expression, something controlled b
The crystal rim of my champagne glass felt cool beneath my fingertips as I traced its edge, the motion slow, deliberate. Around me, the grand ballroom of the Laurent Mansion shimmered in golden light, the chandeliers casting an almost ethereal glow over the sea of perfectly dressed guests. Conversations hummed in the background—polite, controlled, a symphony of whispered ambitions and veiled insults.The night was flawless. Or at least, it was meant to be.My engagement dinner.I hadn’t known until I arrived.The realization had hit me the second we stepped through the grand doors and the crowd erupted in applause. My mother had merely smiled, pressing a perfectly manicured hand to my back as she leaned in. "Smile, Elena," she had murmured. "And try to look surprised."Surprised. Right.The diamonds at my neck—Tiffany, of course—felt heavier than they should have. The gold-plated ball gown, handcrafted by my mother’s Parisian stylist, cinched at my waist, its intricate beading catchin
I barely managed to give Julian a flimsy excuse about making a call before I turned on my heel and walked away.The walls of the ballroom seemed to close in, the perfume-laced air suddenly suffocating. My skin prickled with the weight of a hundred expectant eyes, the heavy hum of polite conversation pressing in.“Excuse me,” I murmured, pushing past a cluster of guests, barely registering the champagne glasses that clinked in my wake. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I headed straight for the French doors.The cool night air hit me like a blessing. Crisp, fresh—free.I stepped onto the terrace, gripping the stone railing, my fingers pressing into the smooth surface. Below, the manicured gardens stretched out like something out of a painting, bathed in silver moonlight. A breeze whispered through the hedges, rustling the perfectly trimmed roses, carrying the distant sound of a fountain bubbling.I exhaled, letting the tightness in my chest unravel just a little.And then, a
I spent the entire day trying to avoid Elena.It was impossible.Everywhere I went, she was there—like a ghost haunting my every step. Even when I couldn’t see her, I could feel her. My body hadn’t forgotten the way her fingers had trailed over me, teasing, testing, pushing me to the edge of something I couldn’t afford to give in to.I had to get a grip.So I threw myself into distraction. Class. Gym. Lunch. Keep moving. Keep my head down. Stick to the routine. But no matter how hard I tried, my mind kept betraying me. My gaze would drift across the cafeteria without permission, scanning the crowd before I even realized what I was looking for.And then, because fate clearly had it out for me, Aria slid into the seat next to me, all bright smiles and too-eager energy."Noah!" She practically purred my name. "I’ve been meaning to ask—what’s your gym routine? You’re in insane shape."I barely spared her a glance, stabbing my fork into my food. "Weights. Cardio. The usual."She wasn’t det
I barely made it two steps past the foyer before my mother’s sharp voice cut through the air.“Elena.”I froze, my fingers curling around the strap of my bag, nails digging into the expensive leather.Damn it.I’d seen Cameron’s car parked outside the mansion the moment my driver pulled in, and I knew exactly what that meant—trouble.For once, I’d planned to be smart. To avoid the headache, I took the back stairs and locked myself in my room. But of course, my mother was always one step ahead.With a slow inhale, I schooled my features into a neutral expression and turned toward the living room.Cameron sat on one of the velvet couches, looking every bit the perfect, polished man my parents adored. He was relaxed, legs crossed, arm thrown over the back of the couch like he belonged there. His hair was perfectly styled, his uniform pressed without a wrinkle in sight, and his smug little smirk told me he was enjoying this far too much.My father sat across from him, flipping through som
The next day at school started out as a disaster, and it only got worse.I sat with Cameron and Tiffany in the cafeteria, feigning interest in whatever mindless conversation they were having when my gaze landed on him.Noah.And Aria.She was laughing, her eyes bright, head tilted just enough to show she was comfortable with him. Too comfortable.I clenched my fork so hard my knuckles turned white.Why was he with her again?I tried to ignore it. I really did. But the way he leaned toward her, the way her hand brushed his arm—it was like a spark igniting in my chest, scorching through my veins.Cameron’s voice barely registered in my ears. Tiffany said something about my "weird mood," but I couldn’t focus on anything except the rage and possessiveness boiling inside me.Aria laughed at something he said, her hand barely brushing his arm. He didn’t move away.I clenched my jaw, gripping my drink so hard that I nearly cracked the plastic cup in my hand. I couldn’t go to him, not while I
I barely made it three steps out of the library before I heard my name, sharp and laced with accusation.“Elena.”I sighed, already knowing what was coming. Squaring my shoulders, I turned to find Tiffany standing a few feet away, arms crossed so tightly her nails pressed into her skin. Her eyes flicked over me—too observant for my liking—taking in my flushed cheeks, the slight mess in my hair, the way my blouse wasn’t as perfectly tucked as it had been before.Shit.She knew.“Care to explain what the hell is going on?” Her voice was clipped, her expression unreadable.I forced a smirk, tilting my head as if I had no idea what she was talking about. “What do you mean?”Tiffany scoffed, stepping closer. “Don’t play dumb, Elena. I saw you sneak off to the library, and I know exactly who was in there with you.”Noah.Of course, she knew. Tiffany missed nothing, and if I had been smarter, I would’ve been more careful. But I wasn’t thinking about Tiffany or anyone else when I was with him
The bus rolled to a stop in front of the school, the familiar brick facade looming ahead like nothing had changed. But everything had.Noah and I weren’t the same people who had stepped onto this bus yesterday.I could still feel the ghost of his hands on me, the lingering heat where his touch had burned itself into my skin. My pulse was still too fast, my breaths still too shallow, and the way Noah looked at me—as if he was barely holding himself back—only made it worse.I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to focus. The last thing we needed was to walk into school looking as wrecked as we felt.Noah stood first, stretching like he hadn’t just been seconds away from completely unraveling in the back of the bus. His gaze flicked down to me, amused, heated. "Are you coming?"I shot him a look. "You’re asking that now?"His lips twitched, but he said nothing as he stepped past me, moving toward the exit.I followed, smoothing my uniform and running my fingers through my hair in an attempt
We barely made it back to the room the museum staff had provided before we were at each other again—hot, desperate, unable to stop.The air was thick with the scent of us, our bodies tangled in the dim light, sheets pushed to the floor as we devoured each other over and over. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing, only the raw need that kept us going until the early hours of the morning.When dawn finally crept in, spilling golden light through the windows, we lay in a breathless, tangled mess. My body ached in places I hadn’t even known could ache, and Noah looked just as wrecked, his lips swollen, his skin marked with the evidence of the night we had lost ourselves in.We didn't say much. There was no need to. The silence between us wasn’t awkward—it was something else. Something that felt dangerously close to contentment.With lazy movements, we reached for the extra uniforms we had brought, exchanging smirks as we realized the ones from last night were nothing but shredded r
I should have seen it coming. The moment my history teacher started talking about an extra-credit project, I should have known fate was about to take another swing at me. But nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared me for what came next."You’ll be paired up," Mr. Langley announced, adjusting his glasses. "And since we’re low on slots, some of you will be sent in pairs to the same location."I barely paid attention until I heard my name."Elena Kensington and Noah Carter. You’ll be working together on the Renaissance exhibit at the Halloran Museum. It’s an overnight trip. You leave tomorrow after school."I blinked. Surely, I had misheard.Noah scoffed. Low. Dismissive. Like he’d rather swallow glass than spend a weekend anywhere near me.I didn’t blame him.Still, my stomach twisted. This was the last thing I needed. Being forced into close quarters with Noah Carter, of all people, was nothing short of cruel punishment.I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. His jaw was t
I barely made it two steps past the foyer before my mother’s sharp voice cut through the air.“Elena.”I froze, my fingers curling around the strap of my bag, nails digging into the expensive leather.Damn it.I’d seen Cameron’s car parked outside the mansion the moment my driver pulled in, and I knew exactly what that meant—trouble.For once, I’d planned to be smart. To avoid the headache, I took the back stairs and locked myself in my room. But of course, my mother was always one step ahead.With a slow inhale, I schooled my features into a neutral expression and turned toward the living room.Cameron sat on one of the velvet couches, looking every bit the perfect, polished man my parents adored. He was relaxed, legs crossed, arm thrown over the back of the couch like he belonged there. His hair was perfectly styled, his uniform pressed without a wrinkle in sight, and his smug little smirk told me he was enjoying this far too much.My father sat across from him, flipping through som
I spent the entire day trying to avoid Elena.It was impossible.Everywhere I went, she was there—like a ghost haunting my every step. Even when I couldn’t see her, I could feel her. My body hadn’t forgotten the way her fingers had trailed over me, teasing, testing, pushing me to the edge of something I couldn’t afford to give in to.I had to get a grip.So I threw myself into distraction. Class. Gym. Lunch. Keep moving. Keep my head down. Stick to the routine. But no matter how hard I tried, my mind kept betraying me. My gaze would drift across the cafeteria without permission, scanning the crowd before I even realized what I was looking for.And then, because fate clearly had it out for me, Aria slid into the seat next to me, all bright smiles and too-eager energy."Noah!" She practically purred my name. "I’ve been meaning to ask—what’s your gym routine? You’re in insane shape."I barely spared her a glance, stabbing my fork into my food. "Weights. Cardio. The usual."She wasn’t det
I barely managed to give Julian a flimsy excuse about making a call before I turned on my heel and walked away.The walls of the ballroom seemed to close in, the perfume-laced air suddenly suffocating. My skin prickled with the weight of a hundred expectant eyes, the heavy hum of polite conversation pressing in.“Excuse me,” I murmured, pushing past a cluster of guests, barely registering the champagne glasses that clinked in my wake. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I headed straight for the French doors.The cool night air hit me like a blessing. Crisp, fresh—free.I stepped onto the terrace, gripping the stone railing, my fingers pressing into the smooth surface. Below, the manicured gardens stretched out like something out of a painting, bathed in silver moonlight. A breeze whispered through the hedges, rustling the perfectly trimmed roses, carrying the distant sound of a fountain bubbling.I exhaled, letting the tightness in my chest unravel just a little.And then, a
The crystal rim of my champagne glass felt cool beneath my fingertips as I traced its edge, the motion slow, deliberate. Around me, the grand ballroom of the Laurent Mansion shimmered in golden light, the chandeliers casting an almost ethereal glow over the sea of perfectly dressed guests. Conversations hummed in the background—polite, controlled, a symphony of whispered ambitions and veiled insults.The night was flawless. Or at least, it was meant to be.My engagement dinner.I hadn’t known until I arrived.The realization had hit me the second we stepped through the grand doors and the crowd erupted in applause. My mother had merely smiled, pressing a perfectly manicured hand to my back as she leaned in. "Smile, Elena," she had murmured. "And try to look surprised."Surprised. Right.The diamonds at my neck—Tiffany, of course—felt heavier than they should have. The gold-plated ball gown, handcrafted by my mother’s Parisian stylist, cinched at my waist, its intricate beading catchin