Calvin’s POVThe bar is quieter than the reception, but the burn of whiskey in my glass is no match for the fire still coursing through me. Dancing with Stevie was supposed to be a distraction, a little fun. But now? Now I can’t stop thinking about the way her body felt pressed against mine. The way
Stevie’s POVI can’t remember how we got from the bar to the elevator, but I know I’ve been kissing Calvin like my life depends on it. His hands are everywhere—my waist, my ass, tangled in my hair. I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like this. It’s all-consuming, messy, and so goddamn good. By the
Stevie’s POVI wake up with sunlight slicing through the curtains and a pounding headache that isn’t entirely from the champagne. It’s that kind of morning — the kind where you know you’ve done something, but your brain hasn’t caught up yet. The bed is too soft, too big, and way too not mine.Then i
Stevie’s POVI swear to God, if one more person emails me about this campaign, I’m gonna set my laptop on fire and walk into the ocean.Okay, maybe not the ocean — this is LA, and I’d probably step on a hypodermic needle before I even hit the water. But you get the point.The launch of Etoile de Col
Calvin’s POVThe numbers don’t lie, but today, they feel like they’re mocking me. I’ve been staring at the same financial projections for twenty minutes, and not a single line of data is sticking. This is rare for me — unheard of, really. Usually, I could recite these reports backward in my sleep. B
Stevie’s POVI’m sitting on the edge of my bathtub, staring at a little stick on the counter like it’s a grenade about to go off. My hands are shaking. My heart feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest.It’s been three minutes.Three. Long. Fucking. Minutes.The instructions said that’
Bill’s POVSerena’s doing that thing again.The thing where she picks at her food but doesn’t actually eat it. She pushes the salad around her plate, stabbing a cherry tomato like it insulted her mother. I lean back in my chair, watching her, trying to figure out if this is work stress or something
Stevie’s POVI shouldn’t have worn these heels.It’s the first thing I think as I step into the ballroom, my feet already protesting the dumb idea of combining sky-high stilettos and a body that feels like it’s actively rebelling against me. My stomach’s been on the verge of staging a full-blown mut
Stevie’s POVThis has to be the fanciest kidnapping in the history of bad ideas.I’m standing in the foyer of Calvin’s penthouse, staring at the polished marble floors, the towering windows, and a chandelier that looks like it could fund a small country. Everything about this place screams luxury—to
Calvin’s POVHospitals always feel the same—like time slows down, stretching every second into an eternity. I’m standing outside Stevie’s room, staring at the door, willing myself to move. My hand hovers near the handle, but I can’t bring myself to push it open.I can hear her voice faintly through
Serena’s POV“Stevie, stay with me,” I mutter, my voice shaking as I keep one arm wrapped around her shoulders. Her weight sags against me, and I feel the panic rising in my chest.“I’m fine,” she whispers weakly, but her pale face and unfocused eyes say otherwise.“You’re not fine,” I snap, flaggin
Serena’s POVThe office feels quieter than usual. Maybe it’s the late hour or the fact that most people have already gone home. But as I glance across the room at Stevie, hunched over her laptop, I know something’s off.She’s always had a way of pushing through, of pretending everything’s fine when
Calvin’s POVFatherhood.The word keeps bouncing around my head, refusing to settle. It feels foreign, heavy. Like trying on a jacket that doesn’t fit but knowing you’re stuck wearing it anyway.I stare out the window of my office, watching the city buzz below. Cars honk. People hustle. Life moves o
Stevie’s POVI’m pacing my living room, muttering to myself like a lunatic.“Calvin, listen—no, that’s too polite.” I stop and shake my head, trying again. “Look, Calvin, I don’t owe you an explanation. That’s better. Straight to the point. No room for debate.”I glance at the mirror above my couch
Calvin’s POVI see her before she sees me.Stevie’s stepping out of the building, her bag slung over her shoulder, sunglasses perched on her nose. She looks like she’s trying to blend into the crowd, which is almost funny considering Stevie Malone doesn’t exactly do subtle.“Stevie,” I call, walking
Serena’s POVI spot Stevie slipping out of the ballroom as I’m finishing up a conversation with a PR exec. She moves quickly, almost like she’s trying not to be seen, but I know her too well. The slight wobble in her steps, the way she clutches her bag like it’s holding her together — it’s a dead gi
Stevie’s POVI shouldn’t have worn these heels.It’s the first thing I think as I step into the ballroom, my feet already protesting the dumb idea of combining sky-high stilettos and a body that feels like it’s actively rebelling against me. My stomach’s been on the verge of staging a full-blown mut