Desiree's POVCaspian has been gone for a while now. I keep looking out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but all I see is the sea. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.When he finally returns, he slams the door shut behind him. His eyes are on me.“Caspian,” I say. “Are you alright?”He doesn’t answer. He just keeps staring at me, his gaze burning with something I can’t quite read. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he bends down, removes his left shoe, and flings it aside. Then he takes off the right one with the same slowness, flinging it aside too.Before I can ask what’s going on, he’s on me—his lips crashing into mine with a force that steals my breath. It’s wild, desperate, like he’s trying to pour everything he’s feeling into the kiss.“Oh, my god,” I gasp, pulling back for air. “What’s gotten into you? You’re like a wild animal.”“I want you,” he growls, voice low and rough. He sweeps his arm across the dresser, sending everything tumbling to the f
He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes darken as he stares up at the ceiling. For a second, I wonder if he’ll brush it off, deflect with some sarcastic comment, or change the subject altogether. But then he looks at me—really looks at me—and I can see the weight he's carrying.“I saw Mike,” he says. “We had a conversation. Things got... heated.”I frown, trying to piece it together. “About what?”“It’s complicated. But let’s just say, everything feels like a fight now. I’m fighting Mabel, I’m fighting Mike, I’m fighting for what’s mine. And when I came back here... all I wanted was you. To feel grounded. To remind myself what’s real.”I tilt my head, watching him closely. The strength he usually carries in his posture seems worn, weighed down by whatever confrontation he’s just come from. It makes my heart ache. “I’m here,” I say, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m always here.”He leans into my touch, his eyes softening for a brief moment. “I know,” he whispers. “That’s why I can’t
Our first stop is a little shop selling the most colorful handmade trinkets. I pick up a tiny ceramic donkey painted bright reds and yellows. “Look at this! It’s adorable!”Caspian raises an eyebrow. “That thing is hideous.”“What?” I clutch the donkey to my chest. “This donkey has more personality than you.”“Sure, if you’re into things that look like they’ve been cursed by an ancient Greek god,” he says. I roll my eyes and place the donkey back on the shelf. “You have no taste.”“Correction—I have impeccable taste. That’s why I married you.”I smirk, trying to hide the blush creeping up my neck. “Flattery won’t save you.”We leave the shop, and Caspian leads us to a bustling open-air market, where vendors shout in Greek, offering everything from olives to handmade jewelry. We stop at a stall selling fresh seafood, and Caspian, with the confidence of someone who has no idea what he's doing, orders calamari in Greek. “Do you even know what you just asked for?” I ask, suppressing a g
My heart is beating fast. I lie frozen next to Caspian, staring wide-eyed at the chipped wall where the bullet hit. Before I can fully process the shock, I hear the screech of tires. I glance up, just in time to see a black-tinted car speeding off into the distance.“Caspian…” I breathe. “Who the hell just shot at us?”Caspian’s eyes are sharp and focused, scanning the area, his body still tense from the sudden danger. He doesn’t answer right away, too busy calculating, assessing. His face is like stone—determined, angry, but controlled.“Are you okay?” he finally asks, his voice low, brushing the hair from my face as he checks me for any sign of injury.“I’m fine,” I manage to say, though my hands are trembling. “But what the hell was that? Who’s after us?”He doesn’t respond at first, his gaze shifting to the road where the car vanished. “It could be anyone at this point,” he mutters under his breath. “Mabel. Someone else with a grudge. But whoever it was, they’re going to regret th
Caspian's POVIt's been two days since the attack, and even though we're back in New York, things still feel tense. My security team is on edge, guarding every inch of the house. But despite the extra protection, the weight of the situation hangs over us.Desiree paces by the window, arms crossed tightly. “Any word from Antonio yet?” she asks, sounding frustrated.I shake my head. “It usually takes time to investigate these things.”“Well, we don’t have time,” she says, turning to face me. “We’re practically chained to this house like prisoners.”She’s right. The apartment, usually a safe place, now feels more like a cage. Every noise outside, every shadow that moves, makes us both uneasy. I don’t blame her for wanting answers. I want them, too.As if on cue, my phone buzzes on the table. It’s Antonio.I answer quickly, putting the call on speaker so Desiree can hear. “What have you got for me?”“Boss,” Antonio says, “I’ve got some information about the hit-and-run. The other thing wi
I chase after her, heart pounding. I run into the bathroom just in time to see Desiree hunched over the toilet, her head buried as she pukes her guts out. The sound makes my stomach turn, but it's the sight of her—so fragile, so vulnerable—that really shakes me.“Cherry, are you okay?” I ask. I kneel beside her, one hand gently rubbing her back in circles.She waves a hand weakly, barely looking up. “Give me a minute,” she croaks, her voice hoarse and strained. “It’s just... something I ate.”But I don’t buy it. Not for a second.“Do you want me to call someone? A doctor?”“No, no,” she says, dragging herself up to the sink. She bends over and rinses her mouth. “I’m fine. Just... give me a second.”I stand there, watching, helpless as she splashes cold water on her face. Her breath is ragged, and every second feels like a lifetime.When she finally turns around to face me, her face is flushed, eyes watery, and she looks utterly drained. I can't take it anymore.“Fuck it,” I say, stan
Desiree's POVDr. Williams sits across from me, his pen moving across the notepad with that same calm, detached expression he always has. But right now, I feel anything but calm. My stomach is still in knots from earlier, and it’s not just the nausea. It’s fear.“Desiree, how are you feeling this morning?” he asks.“Like shit,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest.He doesn’t even blink. Just nods and writes something down. “I know you do, but I’ll need something more specific than that.”I roll my eyes, though not out of disrespect—it’s just how I cope when I’m uncomfortable. “I’ve been nauseous, throwing up. Headaches. I’m exhausted all the time.”He scribbles again, looking up briefly to check my face. “How’s your cycle been recently? Any irregularities?”The question catches off guard. “Um... not exactly regular,” I admit, shifting in my seat. “But it’s never been regular. It’s always been all over the place.”“And what about your pill? Are you still taking it as prescribed?”
We’re walking to the car, and Caspian has been unusually quiet. His silence makes me uneasy, but I pretend not to notice. I’ve already lied once today, and I’m not sure how long I can keep it up.Then he speaks. “The flu, huh?”I nod, slipping my arm through his as we approach the car, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, nothing serious.”He opens the car door for me, ever the gentleman, and helps me in. His hand lingers for a second longer on my arm, and I can feel him watching me, still not convinced. “How about medication?” he asks, sliding into the backseat beside me. I point to my bag. “It’s in there.”He pauses for a moment, then leans sideways to grab my bag. “Can I see?”My heart skips a beat. I don’t know if that’s a good idea. There's no flu medication in there, but I can’t just refuse him without raising suspicion.I force a laugh, trying to deflect. “So you can hide them like you did with my contraceptive pills?”Caspian smirks, but there’s something serious behind his eyes.