FLORENCE’S POVJade’s words echoed in my mind like a slow, deafening drumbeat.“Your father killed my parents.”I wanted to laugh. To scoff. To call her a liar straight to her face.But the way she said it—the certainty, the venom laced in every syllable—made my blood run cold.“My father isn’t a murderer,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “He wouldn’t—”Jade tilted her head, her expression almost pitying. “You didn’t think he was a con artist either, and guess what. He went to prison.” She took a step forward, closing the distance between us. “Your father destroyed families, Florence. Do you think he was just some poor businessman who got caught in a bad deal? No. He was a criminal. He scammed half of this city and left people ruined. People who worked for Whitehill International. People who invested in him. And my parents—”Her voice caught for just a second, but she pushed through. “They lost everything because of him. And because of that, they died.”I searched her face,
FLORENCE’S POVI ran a fingertip down the guest list, double-checking every name, but my mind kept slipping back to Jade. To her threats. Her smug, unbothered smile.Now that she knew my father was out, she might actually try something herself. Granted, she didn’t know which hospital he was at, but it wouldn’t take her long to find the information. Jade had a way of getting anything she wanted out of anyone. I needed to be careful.I dropped my pen and picked up my phone to call one of the guards Raiden had appointed to watch my father. He picked up after two rings. “Miss Hart.” “Hi, Antony, just checking in; is everything alright with my dad?” “Yes, Miss Hart. Your father’s been stable, and we’ve had no disturbances.”I exhaled slowly. “Amazing. Thanks, I’ll see you at night, as usual!” “Sure, Miss Hart, no problem.” Hanging up, I let out a sigh of relief. My world outside might be muddy and chaotic, but at least I could still control some matters in the office. I leaned back
FLORENCE’S POVPlease, what?Hadn’t I given him enough?I shoved against him, trying to create some space between us, but he didn’t budge. His hold was too strong, his body too solid. My heart pounded with frustration, with disbelief. With something I refused to name.“What do you want?!” I screamed. “Why are you here?” I struggled again, twisting in his arms, but it was useless.“I’m drunk,” Mason muttered, then—God help me—he giggled.It wasn’t news. The entire building could probably smell the alcohol seeping off him. But that didn’t excuse… this.This wasn’t him. Not the Mason I knew.Mason Whitehill had too much self-respect and too much control to ever show up at my doorstep in this state. He was always measured, always put together, and always charming. If he needed to talk, he should have shown up like a gentleman, told me what was wrong, and asked for my time.But no.He chose to come here senseless. I struck my elbow against his chest, harder this time. He let out a pained
FLORENCE’S POV“Mason!”He didn’t move.Panic surged through me. My hands hovered over his body, unsure where to touch, where to check. Oh God. Had he hit his head? Was he breathing properly? Was his pulse normal?For one terrifying second, my mind spiraled—What if he dies? Should I call an ambulance?I pressed two fingers against his pulse. Steady. Strong.I let out a breath.Okay, Florence. Think.He was just passed out. Drunk out of his mind and lying in cold, wet clothes. That meant he needed to get warm.I clenched my jaw and reached for him. This was not an act of care—this was basic human decency.I ran to the living room and pulled my rug from under the coffee table. I carried it to the bathroom and hoisted him up, dragging his dead weight onto the floor rug. He groaned softly but didn’t wake. Stupid giant.He was still fully clothed, and his soaked dress shirt clung to his body. He was going to catch a cold if I didn’t get him into something dry.I hesitated.This was dang
MASON’S POVThe moment the door clicked shut behind them, I saw red.I barely realized what I was doing before my hand shot out, knocking over the ceramic vase on her side table. It hit the floor with a loud crash, shattering into a thousand pieces and spilling water and flowers everywhere.I didn’t even know why I was so angry. Maybe because I had never seen her like that.She had always been beautiful. But tonight? Tonight, she was sinful.The black silk dress wrapped around her body like a second skin, accentuating every dip and every curve. Silver jewelry glinted at her neck and wrists, delicate and understated but striking against her cool skin. Her hair—God, her hair—had been perfectly blown out, glossy and thick, cascading over her shoulders.I had spent five years married to Florence. And in those five years, she had never dressed like that for me. Never like she was someone’s prize. Never like she deserved to be worshipped.But I had also never made her feel like a prize. I
FLORENCE’S POVRaiden didn’t take me to a restaurant.Instead, he rented out an entire terrace of a five-star hotel that overlooked the city skyline. The moment the elevator doors opened, my breath caught in my throat. The grand staircase leading up to the terrace was lined with flowers—deep red and ivory roses, flickering candle lanterns placed along the steps. The soft hum of jazz music and the scent of delicious food welcomed us. I turned to Raiden, arching a brow. “Do you always do this for girls?”He smiled, easy and warm. “Only for you.”I searched his face, trying to gauge how serious he was. The way the lights reflected in his dark eyes, the way he stood so comfortably in his own skin, made it hard to doubt him.Still, this… this was too much.I hesitated at the base of the stairs. “Raiden… you didn’t have to go all out like this.”“I know,” he said simply. “But I wanted to. You deserve this, Florence.”I had to admit, as over-the-top as this was, it didn’t feel insincere.
RAIDEN’S POVI’ve only ever loved one girl my whole life. I had grown up in a strict household under a father who rarely smiled. He was a man who had built his fortune from the ground up and believed that true success could only be earned through discipline, struggle, and sacrifice.There was no room for softness in his world. No room for wasting time on things like emotions or dreams.“You will carve your own path,” he had told me. He had made it clear that I would not inherit his empire but build my own. I wasn’t particularly fond of his business, so this didn’t sting me, but his overbearing nature made me withdraw from social life and focus on nothing but building skills and learning lessons. That was the kind of man he was.I didn’t choose PR because I was naturally good at it. In fact, it was the opposite. I wasn’t the guy who could light up a room with his presence. I wasn’t the guy who charmed people into deals over dinner or laughed easily over drinks.Which made PR the hard
RAIDEN’S POVMy heart broken, I threw myself into making Blackwood PR a force to be reckoned with in the industry. I earned my father’s approval and, more importantly, secured high-profile clients like Mason Whitehill, or rather his company, Eternity. He was my biggest client. A man I respected because, like me, he had broken away from his father’s company and built something of his own. He had more money than most people knew what to do with, but he used it well. Despite occasionally being stubborn, demanding, or erratic, I knew it came from a good place. I thought I knew him well. I thought we understood each other in a way. But it wasn’t until one evening at a business dinner that I realized just how little I actually knew about him.Mason was absent, which wasn’t unheard of. The man had a habit of making last-minute decisions. But as I sipped my whiskey, his subordinate, who had had too many drinks, leaned over with a piece of information. “Can you believe he’s not here becau
FLORENCE’S POVOnce Emily confirmed she was okay with doing the nude shoot—completely on her terms, no pressure—we got to work.It wasn’t even sunrise yet when I sent the first text, barely able to feel my fingers after such an emotionally wrecking night. But there was no time to sleep. We had a window—small and delicate—and I was determined to help her step through it.I remembered an art director I’d met at Fashion Week just a few days ago. French, sharp, and wildly creative, she’d shown me a campaign she did for a sustainable lingerie brand that felt more like a gallery exhibit than an ad. I’d tucked her number into my phone, not thinking I’d need it anytime soon.Now I was dialing with barely a second thought.Her response came in instantly.Florence? Mon dieu, I would die to work with you.I didn’t even need to explain much—just that it would be raw, elegant, empowering, and fast. That was enough. She was in.I’d never done anything this last-minute in my life.Usually, shoots to
FLORENCE’S POVEmily stared at the wine glass in her hand like she couldn’t remember how it got there.The room had quieted now. We’d coaxed her into eating something—a small plate of pasta and a few forkfuls of salad—and poured her half a glass of red. She hadn’t said much. She wasn’t crying anymore, but the silence around her wasn’t peace. It was a void.We sat around the little dining table in her suite, lit only by the dim overhead light and the soft glow from the city outside the windows. Rosa sat beside Emily, one protective hand resting lightly on her forearm. Rosa hadn’t even met Emily before this night, but had practically adopted her by that point. I was on her other side. Across from us, Raiden had flipped open his tablet and was already in fix-it mode.“I suggest we start with the basics,” Raiden said calmly, tapping through his notes. “Natalie, you’ll need to call the police. File a formal report. The earlier we do it, the better. Even if it doesn’t lead to anything imme
FLORENCE’S POVAs soon as Rosa and I reached her studio, I immediately grabbed her laptop. My fingers shook slightly as I typed in the gossip websites, terrified of what I might find. The screen quickly filled with images, headlines, and notifications—and there it was. Exactly as Emily had said.Her nude photos were everywhere.“Oh my god…” Rosa whispered behind me, leaning closer to see the screen. “This is so messed up. What sick asshole would do something like this?” Her voice tightened, anger radiating from every word. “I swear to god, when I find him…”I took a deep breath, pushing down the panic rising in my chest. “Can you tell where these photos were taken?”Rosa squinted, carefully scanning every detail on the screen, her eyes flicking rapidly back and forth. She shook her head slowly. “Honestly? There’s no windows, doors, or distinguishing features. It’s artificial lighting and a professional backdrop. Whoever took these photos knew exactly what they were doing. It looks li
FLORENCE’S POVWe stood in silence for a few seconds, waiting. Rosa leaned in and gently pressed her ear to the door like she’d done this kind of thing before.“Anything?” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.She held her position for another beat, then pulled back. “Nope. Seems like it’s empty.”I let out a small sigh. “Okay, maybe—”“Florence?”I nearly screamed. I spun around with my whole body, stumbling back a step. My heart jumped straight into my throat.A guy with tousled curls and splattered paint on his sweatshirt stood a few feet away, carrying a canvas under one arm. His expression lit up when he saw me.“Ian,” I blurted out, instantly recognizing him.He grinned. “Wow, you remember me!”Of course I remembered him. We’d met on that yacht I was checking out for the Eternity-Amora event a few months back. He was one of the hopeful photographers trying to land a commission. He’d given me his card, a sheepish smile, and a surprisingly good portfolio. I’d meant to rea
FLORENCE’S POVMy heart thumped wildly in my chest as I immediately switched apps, fumbling slightly with my trembling fingers. My thumbs flew across the keyboard, rapidly typing a frantic message to Emily.Where are you? That pic behind you was stolen from a gallery a few nights ago??The screen glowed softly as I hit send. My throat tightened as I watched Emily’s status shift from offline to online. The little green check marks appeared, signaling that she had read the message.Seconds passed. My breath stalled in my chest.Then, abruptly, Emily’s status returned to offline.My stomach churned. It felt intentional—heavy and pointed, like a slammed door in my face.“What’s got you all stressed?” Rosa asked from across the table. Her voice startled me back into the noisy café where we’d been laughing just minutes ago.I blinked, trying to shake away the anxious haze clouding my thoughts. “It’s nothing, it’s just some silly family drama.”Rosa’s eyes brightened mischievously, her lips
FLORENCE’S POVMy silence stretched just a little too long. I could feel it. That uncomfortable beat of tension, the kind where everyone realizes someone in the group is no longer smiling.Rosa jumped in quickly, her tone light but purposeful. “Dad, don’t be weird. Florence is his girlfriend.”Ashton blinked, visibly startled. “Oh! I—really?” He looked at me, hands raised in surrender, flashing a sheepish grin. “Well, damn. I’m sorry, Florence. I meant it as a joke.”I forced a smile. “All good.”But it wasn’t. Not really.The conversation moved on, but something in me had curled inward. Raiden and Ashton returned to talking about next season’s silhouettes, material shortages, and the problem with micro-trends killing long-term vision. Rosa threw in a comment here and there, mostly teasing her father, while I lingered behind them like a quiet accessory to someone else’s night.Their words blurred in my ears. I felt small—again.Invisible, the way I used to feel at events where Mason
FLORENCE’S POVI stood there for a long time. Longer than I should have.I should have asked him why he was looking for me despite choosing Jade. I should have asked him why he ended up bloodied and broken in the hospital. I should have asked him if he ever found Daniel after speaking to Emily. If Daniel was the cause of the scars on his face. I should have done lots of things. But all I could do was replay his words in my head. Can we still be good friends?So gentle. So final.It was like I’d stepped outside my own body during the conversation and only now—now that he was gone—had I reentered it.The music had shifted, the crowd moved around me, but I felt frozen. Like I was watching my own life through a glass window.I smoothed down my dress. Straightened my spine. Took a slow, steady breath.Right.I had a good life. I was in Paris. I had a kind, loving man waiting for me. A man who saw me. Who never needed reminding to listen.I wasn’t the girl standing outside a glass wall an
FLORENCE’S POV“What are you guys doing in Paris anyway?” Emily asked, adjusting the strap of her designer bag like it was a microphone she planned to drop at any moment.“Oh, just… on vacation,” I replied.She raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed. “Wow. It’s serious if you’re taking holidays together.”I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, you know it’s going well since—”“I don’t care for details,” she said quickly, waving me off like I was about to bore her to death. “I’m meeting someone else later anyway. Young photographer, super cute and very into me. Which is exactly what I need after the narcissist that was Daniel.”“Um… okay. Bye, I guess?”But she was already halfway down the corridor, disappearing into the post-show haze of crew members and models packing up.I lingered a moment, unsure of what to feel about that whole interaction. Then, I turned back toward the main venue, scanning for Raiden in the sea of guests. I spotted him near the refreshments, chatting anima
FLORENCE’S POVAs soon as the final model stepped off the runway and the lights began to rise, I rose from my seat like a fire had been lit beneath me.“I’ll be right back,” I told Raiden.He blinked in surprise but didn’t stop me. “Want me to come?”“No,” I said quickly, already stepping past him.From the corner of my eye, I saw him turning his attention to one of the designers seated nearby, sliding effortlessly into conversation. Typical Raiden—he could read me without even trying. He knew I needed space. And I appreciated him for that.But right now, all I could think about was Emily.She was here.Not just here but on the runway, front and center. Strutting down like she hadn’t vanished off the face of the earth after Daniel had kidnapped me. After Mason had nearly died. After everything.I pushed my way backstage.The buzz was overwhelming—stylists shouting, models laughing, and garment bags flying from one end to another. The air was thick with perfume, hairspray, and leftov