I moved around the kitchen with the agility of a gazelle, determined to get everything done as quickly as possible. Today was the big day, and the others would be arriving soon, but I still had some cooking left to do.Suddenly, Chef Russo returned with his daughter. My kids already loved her, and she was a talented cook too — well, except for Zachary, who seemed to have a bit of a grudge against her.Unfortunately, Chef Russo had come down with a sudden cold that morning, leaving me to battle the meal on my own. Thankfully, his daughter and Savia stepped in to assist me, along with the two maids that Rominic had called in to help. I didn't thank him directly, but I knew he understood how grateful I was for his assistance. If he didn't, that was his problem."Lavender!!!" The familiar voice of Rominic suddenly rang out, and I felt a surge of frustration wash over me. I wiped my face and signaled for the maid to watch the stove, then hurried out of the kitchen.I take back everything I
The tiny girl in question was undeniably cute. "Wow, so many pups," I said, eliciting a chorus of delighted laughter from the children. I walked over to her and bent down slightly, smiling as she blushed shyly."Hello, I'm Lavender. What's your name?" I asked, keeping my voice gentle."Laverne," she replied, hiding her face behind her small palms. I looked over my shoulder at Elias, who simply shrugged, while Ginger winked knowingly. Ah, so they had named her after me — or at least a close variation."It's so nice to meet you, Aunty Lavender," Laverne said, peeking out from behind her hands. I couldn't resist scooping her up into my arms, cooing over how adorable she was. She had inherited Elias' dark blond hair and skin tone, but Ginger's captivating reddish-brown eyes."What about me?" another voice cried, and I felt a small tug on the skirt of my dress. Glancing down, I squealed in delight at the sight of the puffy little muffin of a child. "Hello, I'm Wren, and Mommy said you alwa
I turned my gaze back to Tyra, and was immediately struck by the raw emotion etched across her face. Her eyes, once wide with surprise and disbelief, now glistened with unshed tears. Concern flashing across my face, I gently placed my hand on her shoulder, asking, "Tyra, are you okay?"My touch seemed to jolt Tyra out of her trance-like state, but rather than addressing me, a dark fury suddenly clouded her expression. The intensity of her anger made me cringe internally.Without warning, Tyra thrust her daughter into my arms, barking, "Hold her." Then, with purpose in her stride, she marched straight towards Link, rolling up her sleeves as she went. Link's face contorted with panic, cursed under his breath and hurriedly scrambled out of his seat, putting as much distance between himself and Tyra as possible. "I can explain, let me explain!" he pleaded, his voice laced with desperation."Explain?! Explain?!!! What the fuck do you want to explain, you bastard!!!" Tyra's thunderous roar
I tossed and turned restlessly on my side of the bed, sighing heavily. Today had been a whirlwind of events, the drama both concerning and exciting. Tyra and Link had decided to have a private conversation to work things out, and the conclusion of the earlier incident weighed heavily on my mind.Rylee had suggested that I should try to make Rominic jealous, throwing her support behind Phineas's plan. Rylee was always in Phineas's corner, and we all knew that it wouldn't take much to provoke Rominic's fiery jealousy. But that was the very problem I was grappling with.Were they truly serious about me intentionally infuriating Rominic? I could barely handle him as it was; the thought of pushing him to the edge filled me with dread. Rominic was capable of such intense rage that he might even commit violence, and they still wanted me to go through with this scheme. It felt like a disaster waiting to happen. Yet, despite my reservations, I couldn't help but contemplate the idea, questionin
I was taken aback, even though I had anticipated it. My body froze for a moment, caught in the throes of a forbidden desire.I was kissing the enemy!He was kissing me!I should stop!But instead of pulling away, I found myself responding, my lips dancing with his in a dangerous ballet. This single act sealed my fate. He slid his leg beneath mine, adjusting our position on the bed to make me more comfortable, though comfort was the last thing on my mind. Rominic's hands roamed my body, tracing a path of desire up my neck and into my hair. He had a particular fondness for my hair, always tangling his fingers in it. A soft moan escaped from both of us, swallowed by our joined lips.I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, my legs twitching with the urge to wrap around his waist. There was too much space between us, too much distance. I yearned to close that gap, to press myself against him, to feel the friction that would quench my burning desire.I traced the tips of my n
It had been a week since the reunion, and I had unconsciously fallen into a routine with Rominic — or rather, Rominic had orchestrated this routine for us. Every morning, he made sure to steal a kiss or two, whether in front of the children or in private. We always ate breakfast together, and at night, we would cuddle and make out before falling asleep.The most agonizing part about this routine wasn't that I was angry about it, but because of Rominic's half-hearted approach. He would kiss me until I was a wet, trembling mess, my body consumed by desire, and then he would abruptly stop. His excuse was that he had promised himself he would never do anything I didn't want him to do — in other words, he wanted me to ask him directly before he would take things further.Rominic knew that my pride would never allow me to make such a request. No, he was well aware that with enough diligent preparation, he would eventually break down my defenses and make me give in to my desires. The bastard
I let out a heavy sigh as I gazed absentmindedly out the window. My mind was in turmoil, consumed with worry for Rominic's well-being. The situation was far graver than I had initially thought.Even though Rominic always backed up his files in a secure cloud, he had been unable to find evidence of the crucial blueprint. He was not only in shock from the knowledge that his secret cloud had been compromised but also from the fact that the perpetrators had effortlessly accessed his password and shut down his security system without any warning.The only silver lining was that his other important files were stored in a different secured box, protected by a randomly generated password that he had carelessly crafted. He had failed to secure the particular file in question, however, because he needed to access it frequently, and the additional security measures seemed like too much of a hassle.Rominic's password was the pet name my mother had used for me, written in reverse with the additio
I quietly walked into my therapist's office, a heavy weight pressing down on my heart, diminishing any sense of joy. Miss Beira Sinclair raised her head from the book she had been reading and offered me a warm, empathetic smile. But when she saw the distress etched across my features, her expression fell. She closed the book and clasped her hands before her, dropping the professional demeanor she typically maintained. Beira spoke to me then as a friend and a mother, using whatever means necessary to ensure I would listen.I dropped my bag on the desk and plopped down in the chair with a heavy, exhausted huff. "I'm so fucking exhausted," I confessed."I can see that. I'll assume things with Rominic are not going well," she stated matter-of-factly. I sighed deeply in response. Beira leaned back in her chair and gave it a gentle spin, humming softly. "How have you been?""I just said I'm exhausted, in every possible way. Rominic can't seem to see anything beyond his work right now, and i
The color drains from her face. Her chair scrapes against the wooden floor as she jolts to her feet. "Shit." The curse barely escapes her lips before she reaches for the gun hidden at her waist, but Lavender is faster.A flick of her wrist. A barely visible glint of silver.Pain explodes through Giovanna’s hand as something sharp embeds itself into her wrist. She screams, the gun slipping from her grasp and clattering to the floor.Lavender is on her in an instant. She surges forward, pulling out her own firearm and stepping down hard on Giovanna’s fallen weapon, keeping it out of reach. The weight of her shoe against the cold metal is final, unwavering.Giovanna freezes as something much colder presses against her temple—the barrel of a gun.Her body goes rigid. Her mind races. She had underestimated Lavender, had stayed alone in this room like a fool, thinking she had control. But it was fine. It had to be fine.Her guards were right in the next room.Any second now, they would burs
Lavender pulls up to the farmhouse, her car rolling to a stop in front of the small, unassuming structure. The address had led her here—a lonely farm tucked away in an open plain, the kind of place where screams would be swallowed by the wind and a body could be disposed of without a trace. How convenient. How utterly unsightly.She exhales softly, slipping the key card back into the pocket of her coat. Her eyes sweep over the land, taking in the neglected fields, the weathered fences barely holding together. No doubt, the original owners had been struggling—probably desperate enough to sell it off without questioning who was buying. A fleeting thought crosses her mind: purchasing this place herself, restoring it, turning it into something profitable.She shakes that thought away and strides toward the house, her shoes crunching against dry earth. There is no hesitation in her steps, no pause at the door to knock or ring the bell. Instead, she grips the doorknob, twists it, and steps
The clock ticks in slow, measured beats, each second stretching, elongating, suffocating. The rhythmic beeping of the cardiac monitor fills the room, a relentless reminder of the fragile life tethered to its machines. The air is thick, sterile, laced with the sharp scent of antiseptic that does nothing to mask the underlying bitterness of despair. The fluorescent lights cast a cold, artificial glow over the large hospital ward, highlighting the stark contrast between the warmth of the floral-printed bedding and the icy stillness of the girl lying upon it.Serenity remains motionless, her small body pale, her chest rising and falling only by the will of the ventilator. Tubes snake around her, connecting her to a maze of medical equipment that hums softly, keeping her alive. She should be running, laughing, causing the kind of mischief that only she could—but instead, she is trapped in a prison of unconsciousness, a mere shell of the vibrant child she had been days ago.Lavender stands
The sky was a perfect shade of blue, a vast canvas unmarred by even a single cloud. The sun shone brightly, its warmth brushing against my skin, and the faint scent of chlorine and freshly cut grass wafted through the air. Despite the lively scene around me, I found myself staring up at the sky, smiling faintly. It wasn't because I felt at peace—I wasn't. Inside, I was a tangled mess of emotions, but I smiled anyway, if only to keep myself together.I sighed heavily, the weight in my chest pressing harder as my mind drifted to the scandalous headlines that had erupted online just days ago. The rumors of an affair between Apollo and me had spread like wildfire, and the storm they caused had been brutal. Thankfully, Apollo going public about his love for Rominic had turned the tide in our favor. Watching Rominic and Phineas look as if they'd turned to stone when they found out had been oddly satisfying. That, combined with the widely known fact that Apollo and I used to hate each other's
Lavender stood in the dimly lit living room, her nerves fraying with every passing second. The soft glow of the overhead light bathed the space in warm hues, but it did little to soothe the tension crackling in the air. Rominic was pacing, his creamy blonde hair disheveled, winter-gray eyes stormy as they pinned her in place. He wasn't speaking yet, but his silence was worse than yelling. It was the kind of silence that suffocated, pressing down on her chest like an unseen weight.She laughed nervously, the sound brittle as it broke the stillness. "It's not what you're thinking," she said, her voice softer than she intended. "I swear, Rominic, it's not.”His eyes flickered, sharp and unyielding, and she could feel his temper bubbling just beneath the surface. The faint ticking of his wall clock was the only other sound in the room, an infuriating reminder of how slowly time seemed to move in moments like these.Lavender inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. Her cinnamon-brown hair
Apollo's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, sharp and unrelenting. "You alone could've prevented everything, but you chose not to. That's exactly why I despised you. None of you deserve him.""True," I whispered, my voice trembling but steady enough to hold the weight of my resolve. "I don't deserve him." I lifted my gaze to meet his, my expression calm despite the storm raging inside me. A soft, bitter smile curved my lips. "But neither does he deserve me."For a moment, Apollo's sneer faltered, his sharp retort caught in his throat. I turned away before he could recover, the silence between us broken only by the muffled sounds from outside and the deafening beat of my own heart.The room was still thick with the lingering stench of sweat and mildew, but somehow, the suffocating weight of the earlier confrontation had begun to lift. The muffled groans and rhythmic thumping from the other side of the door persisted, but I could almost tune them out now. Apollo leaned back agains
"Useless," I muttered, shaking my head and leaning further into the armrest of the sofa. The fabric felt damp, and I shifted again, trying to touch as little of it as possible.Apollo leaned back against the wall, his legs stretched out and his arms crossed over his chest. He looked as though he were perfectly comfortable, but I knew better. He thrived on tension, and this situation was no different. A heavy silence settled between us, but it was far from peaceful. The noises from outside—the cries, the moans, the unmistakable sound of a furniture slamming against a wall—filled the void like an unwelcome guest."You've changed," Apollo finally said, his voice cutting through the cacophony. I turned to him, my expression flat and unimpressed. "What?" "What you did out there…" he trailed off, his tone strangely contemplative, though the familiar edge of derision lingered."I don't see anything wrong with seducing my husband," I replied sharply, emphasizing the word ‘husband' with veno
You know how sometimes things don't go as planned? Well, my situation was one of those.At first, everything seemed to be going perfectly. I had managed to get under Apollo's skin so effectively that he stormed off, his face tight with fury. Victory tasted sweet—at least for a fleeting moment. With him out of the picture, Rominic was mine, entirely mine. We flirted, trading sharp smiles and lingering glances that set my skin ablaze. We kissed, his hands firm yet teasing, and for a brief while, the club's chaotic energy seemed to fade into the background. Then, as if the universe couldn't let me revel for too long, Lilith and a group of men I'd pointed out started brawling. Rominic and Phineas stepped in, practically dragging them apart before things got bloody. They saved lives; I mostly tried not to get crushed.And somehow—still baffling to me—I ended up here. In the mixed-gender restroom. With Apollo.Let me clarify: calling it a “restroom” was a cruel joke. There wasn't a toilet i
The bass-heavy music from the club reverberated through the walls as I stepped inside, the heavy scent of alcohol, sweat, and expensive cologne hitting me instantly. The lights pulsed in rhythmic patterns, casting shadows that danced across the crowded floor. Bodies moved in sync with the music, a chaotic symphony of energy and decadence.Beside me, Lilith was in her element. Her barely-there silver dress sparkled under the strobe lights, the hem so short it was a miracle it managed to cover her at all. She sauntered forward, her electric-blue eyes scanning the room with the eagerness of a predator sizing up its prey."Isn't this fun?" she chirped, her voice loud enough to cut through the music.I smirked at her. "You're certainly having the time of your life, Mrs. Zǐmò." I say, intentionally reminding her about who's she married to and the possibility of him destroying this club if any man should lay their hands on her.Lilith shot me a wink—ignoring me—before sashaying ahead, her dy