Pamela’s Point of ViewWe walk into Elysian Threads, the most renowned bridal shop in the city. The shop is famous for its elegant, handcrafted wedding dresses, each one made with precision and care. I’ve heard the waiting list here is months long, but of course, Rowan’s connections made sure we didn’t have to wait a single day.It’s a beautiful place, adorned with delicate chandeliers and racks of stunning gowns that catch the light as we move past them. The scent of fresh flowers drifts through the air, making everything feel even more surreal. My heart should be racing with excitement, but instead, there’s a strange heaviness weighing it down.Rowan walks in beside me, as calm and composed as ever. His hand rests on the small of my back, a gesture that might seem affectionate to anyone watching, but I know better. It’s just part of the performance. We’re engaged, after all. People are watching.As we are greeted by a woman who introduces herself as Marie, the assistant for today, I
Pamela’s Point of ViewTossing and turning in bed, I can’t find any solace in sleep. My mind keeps replaying that moment at Elysian Threads, where Rowan looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t before. The warmth of his gaze feels like a memory just out of reach, slipping through my fingers like sand. Why can’t I shake it? Did it mean anything? I keep wondering if that moment was real or if I’d imagined it in a desperate attempt to find something genuine in this engagement.I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling. Shadows from the streetlights flicker through my window, but they provide little comfort. The night feels endless, and I wish it would just take me somewhere far away from this tangled web of emotions. As I flip again, my phone beeps, jolting me from my thoughts.I sit up, heart racing, and grab my phone from the bedside table. The glow of the screen illuminates my face, and I see two notifications. The first one twists my stomach. It’s from my father.[We need to talk. I
Pamela’s Point of ViewI can’t just stand here like some helpless spectator. Not tonight. Not anymore.The sight of Rowan, drunk and leaning on Lyka, stirs something deep inside me—a fire that refuses to be extinguished by all the confusion and hurt. I’m not going to be a martyr, sitting on the sidelines while someone else plays the part of the devoted fiancée. No. If he says we’re entering a real marriage, then I’ll act like it.My heart pounds as I follow them upstairs, my footsteps steady and determined. This is my responsibility. Rowan is supposed to be my future husband, and that means I have every right to decide who he’s associating with.Without hesitation, I push open Rowan’s bedroom door. Lyka is already inside, hovering over him as he lies sprawled on the bed, half-unconscious. She’s unbuttoning his shirt, her hands moving with a confidence that makes my blood boil.No. This is not happening.“Step away from him,” I say, my voice firm and unyielding.Lyka turns to face me,
Pamela’s Point of ViewThe morning sun filters through the kitchen window as I stir the pot of soup on the stove. The aroma of the broth fills the air, a simple comfort on an otherwise heavy day. I glance at the clock—early enough for Rowan to still be sleeping off his hangover, but I’m too restless to stay in bed. Last night still lingers in my mind, his unconscious grip pulling me into the bed, his drunken whispers of my name. But none of that means anything now. It never does in the daylight.I finish cooking, setting the table with a quiet efficiency. Soup, eggs, toast—nothing fancy, just something to help with the hangover I’m sure he’ll wake up with. As I arrange the dishes, I hear footsteps descending the stairs, slow and heavy. I don’t turn around, but I know it’s Rowan.I feel his presence before I see him. He walks into the kitchen, his movements sluggish, clearly feeling the aftermath of the alcohol from the night before. His hair is disheveled, his eyes half-lidded with ex
Pamela’s Point of View"I think I like someone."Joana blinks, her wide eyes meeting mine as if I’ve just dropped the most absurd news of the year. She slowly lowers the magazine she’s been flipping through and stares at me in stunned silence. I can practically hear her thoughts as she tries to piece together what I’ve just said. Finally, she speaks.“What? You?” She leans forward, her brows furrowing. “Who?”I shift uncomfortably on the couch, my fingers nervously picking at a loose thread on my shirt. I hadn’t planned to confess this—not even to myself. But here we are."Yeah… I think so," I mutter, avoiding her eyes. “I mean, it’s unexpected. Really unexpected.”Joana cocks her head, her curiosity piqued. “And who is this mystery man? Give me details.”I hesitate, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to form the words. How do I explain this? How do I describe Rowan without actually admitting it’s him? My throat feels tight, but I force myself to speak.“Well... He’s frustrating,”
Pamela’s Point of ViewI scroll through my phone, the dim light from the screen illuminating the interior of the cab as I head home. My fingers pause over an article, and with an unsettled heart, I open it.[Rowan Hamilton introduced a fiancée three months ago… and it’s not Lyka Stones.]The words blur in front of my eyes. My breath catches as I read on.[Rumors suggest that the woman Rowan introduced was simply a way to provoke Lyka, who had been estranged from him at the time. Lyka herself recently addressed these claims, saying: ‘Rowan was just angry. He used someone to make me jealous, but that woman is nobody. He paid her to act like she mattered.’]Nobody. I feel the word like a punch to the gut. Nobody. My chest tightens, and the more I read, the more my insides churn with a mix of disbelief and fury. The article continues to speculate, throwing in rumors and speculation, each one more damaging than the last. Each one stabbing at me with more precision than the one before.I can
Pamela’s Point of ViewThe room is dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls as the tension between us crackles like an electric current. I can feel the heat radiating from Rowan’s body, his presence enveloping me, igniting a fire deep within that I have never known before.His gaze, dark and intense, locks onto mine as I press myself closer, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. The air is thick with unspoken words, with the weight of the emotions we have kept buried, and now they surge to the surface like a tide we can’t hold back.Rowan’s hands find their way to my waist, his touch both firm and gentle, sending shivers cascading down my spine. I feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of my shirt, the way his fingers splay across my back, drawing me nearer until there is no space left between us.As he leans in, the world around us fades away, leaving only the two of us in this moment, this electric connection that pulses with each heartbeat. His breath mingles with mine
Pamela’s Point of ViewThe room is quiet now. I lie next to Rowan, my body still tingling from the closeness we just shared. His arm rests over my waist, and I can feel his steady breathing, comforting yet heavy, like there’s something weighing on both of us. I should feel at ease, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is off.I glance over at him. Rowan’s asleep, his face relaxed, looking softer than usual. It’s strange seeing him like this—vulnerable. Normally, he’s so in control, so distant. Now, though, lying here next to me, he seems almost… human.But my mind won’t settle. It keeps racing, going over everything we’ve been through. Part of me wants to believe this is real—that whatever we have is true—but the other part, the cautious part, is whispering something isn’t right.My eyes drift to his phone, sitting on the nightstand. The screen lights up with a notification. I shouldn’t look. I know it’s wrong. But I can’t help it. I reach for the phone, carefully sliding it t
Pamela stood in the dimly lit corridor of the Hamilton estate, her heart hammering against her ribs as she tried to steady her breath. The soft glow of the chandelier above cast elongated shadows along the walls, mirroring the turbulence within her. She had spent so long running, so long trying to escape the chains that bound her to Rowan Hamilton, yet here she was—trapped once more in his world, but this time, not by force.Rowan’s voice was a low murmur behind her. “You’re trembling.”She swallowed hard, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “No, I’m not.”He let out a quiet chuckle, stepping closer. The warmth of his presence was magnetic, drawing her in despite herself. She should resist—should put as much distance between them as possible—but she found herself standing still, waiting.“Pamela,” he murmured, his fingers brushing against her arm. The simple touch sent a jolt of electricity down her spine.She turned sharply, facing him. “What do you want, Rowan?” Her voice c
The tension between Rowan and Pamela crackled like a live wire, charged with unspoken words and undeniable longing. The moon hung high above them, casting silver light across the vast estate, making everything look surreal, as if time itself had slowed down just for them.Pamela stood by the grand window of Rowan’s study, her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to suppress the storm of emotions raging inside her. Rowan, seated in his chair, watched her with piercing eyes, the weight of unspoken confessions heavy between them.“Say something,” she finally broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.Rowan ran a hand through his tousled hair, sighing. “What do you want me to say, Pamela? That I regret everything? That I should have fought harder for you?” His voice held a sharp edge, laced with frustration and something deeper—pain.Pamela turned, her gaze fierce. “I never asked you to fight for me, Rowan. But you walked away like I meant nothing. Like what we had was just
The dimly lit room seemed to shrink around them, filled only with the tension building between Rowan and Pamela as they stood there, their faces inches apart. For a moment, the world outside their bubble ceased to exist—no threats, no conspiracies, just the two of them bound together by something deeper than either had ever dared to acknowledge.“I don’t want to lose you,” Rowan murmured, his voice laced with desperation. His words hung in the air like a challenge, daring Pamela to let her guard down.Pamela swallowed the lump forming in her throat, her heart racing with each beat. She had fought so hard to keep her heart guarded, to resist the undeniable pull between them. But standing there, cocooned in his arms, resistance felt futile.“You won’t,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above a whisper. The words tumbled out of her mouth as if on their own, as if she was finally ready to admit to herself, to Rowan, that she couldn’t deny their connection any longer.A slow, deviou
Rowan’s grip on Pamela’s hand tightened as they stepped onto the balcony, the city lights shimmering like distant stars. The cool night breeze rustled her hair, and for a moment, she let herself be lost in his warmth. There was something different about him tonight—something softer, yet still as intense as ever.“Are you sure about this?” Pamela asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, unsure if it was from the cold or his proximity.Rowan turned to her, his dark eyes searching hers. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”She swallowed hard, the weight of their shared past pressing down on her. The tension between them had always been undeniable, but tonight, it felt like it was reaching a breaking point.Before she could speak, Rowan closed the distance between them. His fingers gently traced the outline of her jaw before tilting her face up to his. “I need you to understand something,” he murmured. “You’re not just an obligation
Pamela's heart pounded as she clutched Rowan’s hand, their fingers interlaced in a silent promise neither dared to break. The air was thick with tension, but beneath it all, an undeniable pull bound them together—one neither of them could ignore anymore.Rowan’s gaze flickered to Pamela’s lips before meeting her eyes again, his breath heavy with unspoken words. “Pamela,” he murmured, his voice both desperate and tender, “I don’t want to waste any more time. Whatever happens, I want to be by your side.”Pamela’s lips parted, her heart hammering against her ribs. She had spent so much time running—from him, from her feelings, from the life she thought she could never have. But looking at him now, she saw the truth in his eyes—undeniable, unwavering. He was hers, and she was his.The moment between them crackled like a live wire, but before she could respond, the distant echo of footsteps broke the spell. Pamela tensed, her instincts sharpening. Rowan’s jaw clenched, his hand tightening
Pamela’s heart pounded violently in her chest as the room fell into an eerie silence. The man standing before her, the embodiment of her darkest fears, smirked as if he had all the time in the world. Rowan’s grip on her wrist tightened, grounding her, reminding her she wasn’t alone anymore. But the fear clawing at her throat told a different story. She had spent years running from this nightmare, only to have it walk straight through the door, uninvited and unwelcome.Rowan took a step forward, shielding her completely. “You have five seconds to explain why the hell you’re here before I make you regret it.”The man let out a dark chuckle, his laughter echoing with a sense of menace. “Always so eager to resort to violence, aren’t you, Rowan?” He shifted his gaze and locked eyes with Pamela, a sly smile creeping across his face. “I expected a warmer welcome from you, Pamela. After all, we have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”Pamela felt her heart race as she clutched Rowan's slee
The silence between Rowan and Pamela was heavy with unspoken emotions. The dim light in the room cast long shadows, accentuating the tension that neither of them dared to break. Rowan stood close, his piercing gaze fixed on Pamela as she avoided looking at him. The air was thick with electricity, every moment stretching unbearably between them. “You should rest,” Rowan finally said, his voice softer than before. “You’ve been through too much already.” Pamela’s fingers curled into the fabric of her dress, gripping it tightly. “Resting won’t change anything,” she murmured. “It won’t take away the truth of what’s happening.” Rowan exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. “Then tell me what you want, Pamela. Do you want me to walk away?” Pamela’s heart pounded as she looked up at him, her emotions a storm raging within her. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I want anymore.” In an instant, Rowan closed the distance between them. His hand cupped her cheek, tilti
Pamela's heart pounded against her chest as the night air curled around her like an invisible embrace. The moon hung heavy in the sky, its silver glow casting long shadows across the garden where she and Rowan stood, their faces inches apart. His fingers grazed her cheek, and for a moment, she forgot about the chaos that had defined their lives. The only thing that existed was him—the man who had upended her world, the man who now held her heart in his hands."You're shaking," Rowan murmured, his voice low and deep.Pamela swallowed hard. "I don't know if it's because of the cold or because of you."He let out a soft chuckle and pulled her closer, his warmth seeping into her skin. "Then let me be your warmth."She gazed up at him, her lips parting as he leaned in. Their lips met in a slow, tantalizing kiss that sent shivers down her spine. It was different this time—no longer a kiss of desperation but of something deeper, something that neither of them was willing to name just yet. Hi
The night air was thick with tension as Pamela sat in Rowan’s study, her fingers clenching the edges of the armchair. The flickering glow of the fireplace cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline and the intensity in his eyes. He was standing near the window, his back turned to her, as if he was battling demons she could not see.“Rowan,” she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it was enough to make him turn. His gaze met hers, dark and unreadable, yet there was something beneath the surface—something raw and unspoken.“Why did you really bring me here?” she asked, swallowing the lump in her throat. She had been asking herself this question over and over, but now she needed to hear it from him.Rowan stepped closer, the tension between them a tangible force. He reached out, his fingers grazing her jaw before he cupped her face entirely, forcing her to look at him. “Because I can’t let you go,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “Beca