Mia is barely conscious when Osborne guides her through the door of his apartment. She stumbles, leaning heavily on him as they make their way inside. The soft click of the door shutting behind them seems distant, muffled by the haze of alcohol clouding her senses. Her eyes flutter, half-closed, but she still notices the familiar sharpness of his space—the black couch, the spotless countertops.
Everything here is always too perfect, too untouched, as if Osborne just passes through his own life without bothering to leave a mark.
Osborne kicks off his shoes, half-dragging her to the bedroom. "Come on," he mutters under his breath, not with annoyance, but with that same casual tone he always uses, like none of this really matters. He pushes her onto the bed, and the mattress dips beneath her weight.
She lets out a soft sigh, sinking into the cool sheets. His fingers work quickly, tearing open a condom wrapper, the sound slicing through the room like a blade.
But then, he pauses.
Osborne looks down at her—her face flushed, her eyes glassy—and something shifts in his expression. He isn’t the kind of guy to back down, not when things are already set in motion, but even he has his limits. He frowns, shaking his head, before sitting on the edge of the bed, the wrapper still in his hand.
“Mia,” he says quietly, almost as if he’s speaking to himself. “Do you even know what’s happening right now?”
She doesn’t respond. Her eyes are half-closed, her body limp, and in that moment, she turns her head toward him, placing a hand on his cheek. "Puppy," she murmurs softly, her lips curling into a small, drunken smile. She’s so far gone that it takes him a second to realize she isn’t talking to him—she’s just lost in whatever world her mind has escaped to.
Osborne sighs, tossing the condom onto the nightstand. There’s no point in this—not tonight. He pulls the covers over her, watching as she nestles into them, her breathing deepening into something resembling sleep. He stays up for a little while, sitting there in the quiet darkness, thinking, but not about her. His mind is elsewhere—maybe on work, maybe on something, or someone, else.
When he finally lies down next to her, his body turns away, and sleep comes quickly.
***
Morning creeps in softly, the first rays of sunlight slanting through the blinds. Osborne flips over in his sleep, one arm thrown over his head as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. Mia, now fully awake, watches him from the windowsill, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the cigarette balanced between them. She takes a slow drag, enjoying the remnant taste of him in her mouth.
She’s not as drunk as she let on last night—never really is. Osborne doesn’t know that, though. He never asks, never checks. He just assumes, like he does with everything. Mia smirks to herself, thinking about how often she’s played this game. How many times she’s pretended to be drunk, hoping it would stop him from expecting more. Hoping it would save her from facing the reality of what they are—or rather, what they aren’t.
She exhales a stream of smoke, watching as it curls up and fades into the air. Osborne shifts slightly, his handsome face still in deep sleep, completely unaware of her thoughts, of her growing detachment. She loves him—God, how she loves him—but she knows he doesn’t feel the same. He might care for her in some distant way, but love? No. He’s drawn to something else, someone else, and she can feel it in every touch that doesn’t stay, every kiss that feels more like habit than passion.
Mia glances around the room, her eyes settling on the impersonal details of his life. The apartment is too neat, too carefully arranged, as if Osborne lives here but doesn’t truly belong. It’s a reflection of him—closed off, distant, a man who’s here but not really here. The expensive furniture, the art on the walls, the countertops—they’re all part of an image, a life that looks good on the surface but lacks any real warmth beneath it.
She takes another drag, letting the cigarette dangle from her lips as she pulls his shirt tighter around her body. It smells like him—like the cologne he wears that’s somehow both intoxicating and cold. She loves that smell. She hates it too. Because it reminds her that she’ll never have more of him like he wishes to. She’s always wanted to ask him—what are we doing here? What does any of this mean?
But she never does.
Mia shifts her gaze back to Osborne, watching the way the sunlight falls on his face, the strong line of his jaw softened by sleep. He looks peaceful like this, so far removed from the version of himself that everyone else sees. She almost convinces herself that this is enough—these quiet mornings, the brief moments of tenderness they share when no one’s looking. But deep down, she knows it isn’t. Deep down, she knows she’s losing him, if she ever had him to begin with.
Her fingers tremble slightly as she flicks the cigarette ash into a nearby tray. She knows he’s drawn to someone else, someone he won't admit to, and it’s killing her. The way his eyes linger just a little too long when Sienna walks by, the casual comments that seem harmless but aren’t. She pretends not to notice, pretends it doesn’t hurt, but it does. Every single time.
Mia drops the cigarette into the ashtray and stands up, walking over to the bed. Osborne doesn’t stir as she crawls in beside him, pressing her body against his, seeking comfort in the only way she knows how. She buries her face in his back, breathing in his familiar scent.
“I know everything,” she whispers into the silence, her words swallowed by the room. But she won’t say it to him. Not yet. She’s not ready to face what she already knows.
All night, Sienna can’t sleep, and this morning starts off rough. Her mind is fixed on one person: Noah King. Even in his absence, he fills up her mind.Sienna’s fingers instinctively wander to the necklace draped elegantly around her neck, the cool metal like an electric shock waking every nerve. The delicate platinum chain holds a stunning diamond solitaire, accompanied by a vibrant peridot – her birthstone – and surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds that sparkle like whispers.Her mind is a jumble of emotions as she thinks about Noah gifting it to her. She can’t shake off the feeling that there’s more to this gesture than meets the eye. Is it a genuine attempt to connect or a clever manipulation? Sienna’s thoughts swirl, replaying their encounter in vivid detail.As her fingers trace the pendant’s curves, she feels an unsettling sense of vulnerability. This beautiful necklace, meant to adorn her, now feels like an invisible thread binding her to Noah. The peridot, once a symbol
Sienna peels herself off the bed, her limbs heavy with her own emotions. Her body feels like a burden, as if it’s been anchored to the mattress by the sheer force of her sorrow.Her legs tremble beneath her, threatening to collapse under the strain of her exhaustion. Each step feels like a Herculean effort, as if she’s wading through quicksand.As she rises, the room around her seems to spin, a dizzying show of colors and shadows. Sienna’s eyes struggle to focus, her vision clouded by the tears she's desperate to hold back.With a leaden heart, she forces herself forward, driven by a fragile thread of determination. Her feet carry her toward the bathroom.The silence of the apartment is a blessing; Mia’s absence means she can avoid the awkwardness of pretending to be okay. She shuffles to the bathroom, seeking refuge in solitude in the quiet, dark space.As she stands before the small mirror above the sink, her gaze meets her reflection. The exhaustion and anguish all over her face ar
The faint clicks of the laptop’s keyboard fill the silence between them, but it does nothing to ease the tension building in Sienna’s chest. Her hand rises to the necklace resting against her skin, her movements uneasy. She avoids Noah’s eyes, wary of letting her emotions spill over. Taking a deep breath, she prepares to speak, but Noah beats her to it.“I can see you staring at me,” Noah says, clearly growing tired of the looks she keeps stealing.“I want to talk,” she finally manages.Noah’s gaze remains glued to his laptop screen. “What’s on your mind, Sienna?”She hesitates for a moment, her grip tightening around the necklace. “Let’s start with this,” she says, lifting it slightly so it catches the dim light inside the car. “I can’t accept something this valuable. Please, take it back.”Noah’s expression remains neutral, his eyes never leaving the screen. “It’s just a necklace, Sienna. If you don’t like it, throw it away.”Finally, she forces herself to look at him, her frustrati
Sienna doesn’t realize the car is slowing until Noah yanks her out, gripping her wrist tightly. Blinking in surprise, she takes in her surroundings: a sprawling villa stands alone, surrounded by endless land and a chilling silence, broken only by the wind. The villa’s modern lines and grand windows feel cold and isolated.It’s practically impossible to sneak in without getting caught on camera overlooking every corner.“Noah, wait,” she protests as he pulls her forward, stumbling over the gravel. He doesn’t care; his hold tightens as he drags her to the front door—a massive slab of wood with beautiful carvings. When they step inside, the heavy door creaks, and Sienna begins to tremble out of fear.The villa is as lifeless as the land outside. High ceilings and marble floors amplify their footsteps. A single chandelier illuminates the grand foyer. A winding staircase spirals upward, its polished banister gleaming in the gloom. The place feels immaculate, untouched, as if it has been wa
“Noah, please—stop!” she screams again, her voice breaking as she kicks against him. Her knee connects with his side, but it barely fazes him. His fingers dig into her skin as he presses his body closer, his need overpowering any sense of restraint. Tears blinds her vision as she fights, but it’s like pushing against a wall. He’s too strong, too driven by something dark and uncontrollable.Sienna’s breathing grows ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her panic turns into full-blown terror. “Noah, no—stop!” she gasps, struggling harder. She kicks again, this time with more force, her heel connecting with his shin. It’s enough to throw him off balance for a moment, but his hands are back on her in an instant, rough and demanding as they move up her leg again.But then her body betrays her—her breath comes in quick, shallow bursts, her chest heaving uncontrollably. She’s hyperventilating, her vision darkening at the edges. Noah pauses, his hands freezing as he looks down at he
She fetches a small first-aid kit and begins treating the bruises with delicate hands. The silence between them is heavy, but it’s what Sienna needs right now. No words. No explanations. Just the quiet support of someone who’s always been there.Sienna winces as Mia dabs at a particularly dark bruise on her wrist, the spot where Noah had gripped her the hardest. Mia’s hand hesitates, her jaw clenching, but she still doesn’t ask. She doesn’t need to.Sienna leans back against the couch, so tired as her mind finally replayed everything like a broken record. She can barely keep her eyes open, but before she can drift off, her phone buzzes on the coffee table. The sound jolts her, pulling her from the edge of sleep.Mia glances at the phone, then back at Sienna. “Do you want me to get it?” she asks softly.Sienna doesn’t answer, her eyes fixed on the screen, but she doesn’t move. The caller ID flashes Noah King in bold letters. Shaking her head, she turns her face away. She can’t deal wit
“I don’t bite—what are you so afraid of?” Ethan’s voice is light, casual, as he releases Sienna and returns to his seat, settling in like he’s got all the time in the world. He gestures to the sofa across from him. “Come on. I’d like the company. Sit down.”Sienna stays planted where she is, suspicious. There’s no telling what he’s really after. Throwing his hands up in mock surrender, he grins. “Just sit and relax. You look like you could use it. I swear, I won’t do anything. If I do, feel free to kick me where it hurts.” His laughter softens the edge of his words.She considers his offer. Her feet ache in the stilettos she’s been wearing, reminding her how much she misses her sneakers and jeans. She’s never felt so out of her element.Finally, she gives in, setting her tray down and moving to the sofa. She eases herself onto it, crossing one leg over the other and meeting his gaze.Ethan leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know,” he says, studying her, “you’re real
Sienna skips breakfast, rushing to class bright and early after waking up late. Just as her stomach begins to growl, a message pings on her phone—a summons to the school’s office. Something about her scholarship. She barely waits for class to end before slipping out, her heart thudding with hope and dread. But as she rounds the corner, she stops cold. Standing in her path, looking every inch like royalty, is her half-sister, Nylar.Nylar’s skin glows in the morning light, hair spilling in dark, perfect curls, lips painted a bold red. Everything about her screams money and confidence. Sienna’s instinct is to look away, avoid her entirely, but it’s too late. Those raven eyes are fixed on her, not about to let her escape.“Sienna,” Nylar calls out.Sienna’s steps slow, wary but determined not to let her discomfort show. “Nylar.”“I need to talk to you.” Nylar gestures toward a nearby café, her eyes narrowing as if testing how much control she still has. Sienna knows she should walk away,