Michael’s POVI don’t know what it was about today, but everything around me felt heavier, like the walls of this damned house had grown teeth and eyes, watching my every move, ready to swallow me whole. I had taken refuge in my room — the only space in this godforsaken mansion that still felt like mine.The sheets were freshly laid; the scent of lavender clung stubbornly to the fabric like a memory I couldn’t place. I threw another magazine into the growing pile of papers by the window and began straightening out the books on my desk. Cleaning was never something I bothered with before, but lately… it was the one thing that gave me a sense of control.I folded a shirt, placed it in the wardrobe, smoothed out a wrinkle on the duvet, and sat on the bed, admiring the small victory. My space was finally in order. Maybe if the outside world was falling apart, at least in here I could pretend things were normal.Just then, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.Damian.I hesitated for a m
Marlo’s POVThe kitchen had always been my favorite room in the house — not because I enjoyed cooking, far from it — but because it was the one place I could find temporary peace from the exhausting madness swirling around this godforsaken mansion. And also was surprisingly a great place for spontaneous sex, if you know what I mean. The dim lighting, the sharp scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air, and the low hum of the refrigerator was about the closest thing to calm I could get nowadays.Anabelle sat by the counter, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, her expression distant as if her thoughts were elsewhere. Mortis stood by the window, his massive frame leaning against the sill, silently watching the mansion grounds beyond the glass. None of us spoke, each lost in our own worlds, the silence stopped only by the occasional clink of Anabelle’s spoon against her mug.It wasn’t peace exactly. It was an uneasy truce, and I knew it wouldn’t last long.Then
Michael’s POVThe soft hum of the microwave was oddly comforting in the otherwise tense silence of the kitchen. The scent of warmed-up soup filled the air, and for a fleeting moment, it smelled almost like home. Or what home might have been, in some better, less screwed-up lifetime.I ran a hand through my hair, leaning against the counter as I watched the seconds tick down on the digital display. In no time, Fernando’s food would be ready soon, and for once and I wasn’t just doing it to keep up appearances. I wanted him to wake up. I needed him to. Everything was starting to fall apart around me — and the one person who could have untangled this mess was lying unconscious in a bedroom upstairs.Across the room, Mortis and Emilio were hunched over their plates, their laughter quiet but strained, as though neither of them truly wanted to laugh. Anabelle was standing at the sink, scrubbing a plate so hard I was half-convinced she was imagining it was my face.I wouldn't be surprise
Ashley’s POVIt was another cold morning. The sun had not even properly broken through the clouds, and yet the city was already buzzing. I could hear the distant sounds of sirens mixing into the horns of impatient drivers as I stepped out of my apartment. The world moved on. People went to work. Coffee shops opened their doors. Life moved forward, except mine — mine was stuck, still in a past I couldn’t let go of.Michael.His name was a constant echo in my head. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how many times I told myself to move on, I couldn’t. He was constantly in every corner of my mind, and with every sunrise, I missed him more.The FBI headquarters loomed ahead, a building of glass and steel that once felt like home. Now, it felt cold and lifeless. Like every pair of eyes that turned in my direction carried judgment. I could see it in the way they spoke in hushed whispers, the way conversations stopped when I passed by. I was the girl still hung up on the traitor.M
Ashley’s POVI wasn’t just angry — I was livid. My eyes were locked on Andrew, and every word he said just seemed to make me angrier."You have no idea what the hell you're talking about!" I snapped, my voice slicing through the thick silence that had descended in the room.“Ashley—” The Chief began, his voice firm but controlled, trying to get me to calm down. But I wasn’t about to back down. Not this time.“No, Chief,” I interrupted, standing abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.“She’s too close to the target,” Andrew said, speaking as though I wasn’t even in the room. His voice was annoyingly calm, like he was stating facts that everyone should just accept. “And it’s affecting her performance. We’ve all seen the signs, Chief. Mood swings, irrational decisions, an inability to separate personal feelings from professional duties. It’s compromising the mission. And it’s been going on for too long.”“You’re out of your damn mind,” I spat, barely able to contain the r
Michael’s POV I didn’t want to leave the mansion.Not tonight. Not with everything happening. Not with Fernando lying unconscious in the safe room and Marlo looking like he was one bad mood away from snapping someone's neck. But Damian had shown up, unannounced, loud as hell, and desperate for my attention like a neglected lover, and somehow — after a tense stare from Marlo — I had gotten permission to leave with him.I still didn’t understand that look Marlo gave Damian before we left.Sharp, calculating, and most definitely sour.But then again, Marlo always looked like he wanted to kill someone. I figured it was just his natural face.Now here I was, standing in Damian’s expensive condo in the middle of the city, a glass of wine in my hand, and his eyes locked on me like I was the only thing worth existing for.I drank half the glass.Damian smiled, leaning against the wall like he hadn’t been a complete maniac earlier. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.“I’m fine,” I replie
Ashley’s POV The steady hum of the ceiling fan above me did little to drown out the gnawing ache in my chest. Another day gone, another restless night ahead. I sat on the edge of my couch, my phone resting on my lap, its screen black but heavy with unsent messages. Messages I had drafted a hundred times but could never bring myself to send.To him.To Michael.The world outside my apartment window was in dull shades of twilight, streetlights flickering to life one by one, their glow spilling onto the wet pavement. The city never slept, but I barely lived in it anymore.I missed him.God, I missed him more than I should.The sound of my ringtone brought me out of my thoughts. I sighed, grabbing the phone and seeing “Mom” flash on the screen. I forced a breath through my teeth and picked up.“Hey, Mom,” I answered, trying for casual but probably landing somewhere near exhausted.“Ashley, honey! I was just thinking about you,” her warm voice came through the line like a soft blank
Michael’s POV I sat on the edge of the couch, the weight of the room pressing down on me. My mind raced, thoughts spiraling. The things I had learned today, things that didn’t make sense, things that terrified me, made it impossible to be calm.Damian knew so much about me. Too much. He had already figured out that I wasn’t being completely open with him, and I could feel him watching me, waiting for me to slip. And then there was Fernando. How much did Damian know? What was he planning to do with all of this?I stared at the floor, trying to steady my thoughts. I had to play it cool. I had to keep up the facade. Damian would smell weakness if I showed any signs of doubt. And right now, every nerve in my body was screaming that something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.A door creaked open, and I looked up to see Damian walking back into the room. His expression was unreadable, his movements smooth. Like nothing had changed."Everything alright?" he asked,
Ashley's POVI could feel my pulse beating against my ears as the hum of the fluorescent office lights above flickered slightly. I sat at my desk, the cool blue glow of my dual monitors reflecting off my eyes, trying to focus on the endless backlog of reports needing my attention. Not when Andrew had just gotten his way into taking control of the one operation I cared about.I lifted my gaze, and there he was — Andrew Rivers, dressed in his tailored navy-blue suit, crisp white shirt, and smug little grin, standing with a group of agents by the glass briefing room. He was gesturing smartly to a map pinned to the whiteboard behind them, a printed red circle marking a section of southern England.I knew what that circle was. I knew what that smug look was about.Because news had already spread like wildfire through the department this morning. The Chief had officially assigned Andrew as the lead agent on the Michael and Fernando Ramirez case.My stomach churned and I had a bitter tas
Michael’s POVI don’t know what kind of sick, twisted joke the universe thought it was playing, but the moment I found myself pulled onto Damian’s lap like some helpless doll, my skin prickled with unease."Get the hell off me, Damian," I growled, squirming against the iron hold he had around my waist.He didn’t budge. Not an inch. His grip was steady, firm, and just tight enough to remind me who currently had the upper hand.“You’re acting crazy,” I spat, narrowing my eyes at him. “This isn’t funny. I’m not enjoying this little power trip you’re on.”His lips curved into a slow, predatory smirk and his voice dropped, low and intimate.“Oh, Michael,” Damian murmured, his breath brushing the side of my neck. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not here to entertain you. And you… you’re not going anywhere.”I stiffened when he slid his hand down my arm, his fingers lacing around mine, trapping it against my thigh. His other hand wandered, bold and possessive, his fingertips tracing the ski
Michael’s POV The air inside Damian’s condo was thick. Not with the comfortable warmth of wine and conversation, but with something heavier. It clung to my skin, thick like smoke you couldn’t see, making each breath heavy. I sat on the edge of his couch, my nerves frayed and mind racing, my phone still connected to Marlo, tucked between the cushions like a hidden lifeline.I could still hear the faint hum of the call, Marlo’s muted breathing on the other end. It was the only thing keeping me grounded in this storm I had willingly stepped into.Damian appeared from the kitchen, another sleek bottle of deep red wine in one hand, two glasses in the other. “Let’s try this wine,” he said, his voice low. He handed one glass to me, his fingers brushing mine, lingering just a bit too long. That brief contact sent a ripple through me, one I desperately wished to suppress.I took the glass, pretending to admire the wine’s color, anything to avoid his gaze.“Marlo again?” Damian asked, hi
Michael’s POV I sat on the edge of the couch, the weight of the room pressing down on me. My mind raced, thoughts spiraling. The things I had learned today, things that didn’t make sense, things that terrified me, made it impossible to be calm.Damian knew so much about me. Too much. He had already figured out that I wasn’t being completely open with him, and I could feel him watching me, waiting for me to slip. And then there was Fernando. How much did Damian know? What was he planning to do with all of this?I stared at the floor, trying to steady my thoughts. I had to play it cool. I had to keep up the facade. Damian would smell weakness if I showed any signs of doubt. And right now, every nerve in my body was screaming that something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.A door creaked open, and I looked up to see Damian walking back into the room. His expression was unreadable, his movements smooth. Like nothing had changed."Everything alright?" he asked,
Ashley’s POV The steady hum of the ceiling fan above me did little to drown out the gnawing ache in my chest. Another day gone, another restless night ahead. I sat on the edge of my couch, my phone resting on my lap, its screen black but heavy with unsent messages. Messages I had drafted a hundred times but could never bring myself to send.To him.To Michael.The world outside my apartment window was in dull shades of twilight, streetlights flickering to life one by one, their glow spilling onto the wet pavement. The city never slept, but I barely lived in it anymore.I missed him.God, I missed him more than I should.The sound of my ringtone brought me out of my thoughts. I sighed, grabbing the phone and seeing “Mom” flash on the screen. I forced a breath through my teeth and picked up.“Hey, Mom,” I answered, trying for casual but probably landing somewhere near exhausted.“Ashley, honey! I was just thinking about you,” her warm voice came through the line like a soft blank
Michael’s POV I didn’t want to leave the mansion.Not tonight. Not with everything happening. Not with Fernando lying unconscious in the safe room and Marlo looking like he was one bad mood away from snapping someone's neck. But Damian had shown up, unannounced, loud as hell, and desperate for my attention like a neglected lover, and somehow — after a tense stare from Marlo — I had gotten permission to leave with him.I still didn’t understand that look Marlo gave Damian before we left.Sharp, calculating, and most definitely sour.But then again, Marlo always looked like he wanted to kill someone. I figured it was just his natural face.Now here I was, standing in Damian’s expensive condo in the middle of the city, a glass of wine in my hand, and his eyes locked on me like I was the only thing worth existing for.I drank half the glass.Damian smiled, leaning against the wall like he hadn’t been a complete maniac earlier. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.“I’m fine,” I replie
Ashley’s POVI wasn’t just angry — I was livid. My eyes were locked on Andrew, and every word he said just seemed to make me angrier."You have no idea what the hell you're talking about!" I snapped, my voice slicing through the thick silence that had descended in the room.“Ashley—” The Chief began, his voice firm but controlled, trying to get me to calm down. But I wasn’t about to back down. Not this time.“No, Chief,” I interrupted, standing abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.“She’s too close to the target,” Andrew said, speaking as though I wasn’t even in the room. His voice was annoyingly calm, like he was stating facts that everyone should just accept. “And it’s affecting her performance. We’ve all seen the signs, Chief. Mood swings, irrational decisions, an inability to separate personal feelings from professional duties. It’s compromising the mission. And it’s been going on for too long.”“You’re out of your damn mind,” I spat, barely able to contain the r
Ashley’s POVIt was another cold morning. The sun had not even properly broken through the clouds, and yet the city was already buzzing. I could hear the distant sounds of sirens mixing into the horns of impatient drivers as I stepped out of my apartment. The world moved on. People went to work. Coffee shops opened their doors. Life moved forward, except mine — mine was stuck, still in a past I couldn’t let go of.Michael.His name was a constant echo in my head. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how many times I told myself to move on, I couldn’t. He was constantly in every corner of my mind, and with every sunrise, I missed him more.The FBI headquarters loomed ahead, a building of glass and steel that once felt like home. Now, it felt cold and lifeless. Like every pair of eyes that turned in my direction carried judgment. I could see it in the way they spoke in hushed whispers, the way conversations stopped when I passed by. I was the girl still hung up on the traitor.M
Michael’s POVThe soft hum of the microwave was oddly comforting in the otherwise tense silence of the kitchen. The scent of warmed-up soup filled the air, and for a fleeting moment, it smelled almost like home. Or what home might have been, in some better, less screwed-up lifetime.I ran a hand through my hair, leaning against the counter as I watched the seconds tick down on the digital display. In no time, Fernando’s food would be ready soon, and for once and I wasn’t just doing it to keep up appearances. I wanted him to wake up. I needed him to. Everything was starting to fall apart around me — and the one person who could have untangled this mess was lying unconscious in a bedroom upstairs.Across the room, Mortis and Emilio were hunched over their plates, their laughter quiet but strained, as though neither of them truly wanted to laugh. Anabelle was standing at the sink, scrubbing a plate so hard I was half-convinced she was imagining it was my face.I wouldn't be surprise