Constantine's POV By the time the car rolled to a stop outside the address, I’d finished reading into Lexi’s files. The images and texts I found were shocking, I was not expecting this but I knew how to turn a situation in my favour. I kicked open the front door, striding in with Carlisle and Cavalon flanking me.“Darling, I’m home," I called as I stepped into the room to see Lexi and Kate, curled together on the couch like conspiring schoolgirls. They sprang apart upon seeing me and Kate jumped to her feet, instinctively placing herself in front of Lexi. I had to admire her bravery. “Where’s Jones?” Kate demanded, her voice defiant. I tilted my head, amused by her courage as I stepped forward, wrapping my hand around her throat. Her pulse raced beneath my fingers. “You’re in no position to be asking questions, sweetheart.” Kate’s lips twisted into a smirk even as my grip tightened. “If I were straight, maybe I’d actually be enjoying this,” she sneered, trying to keep her
April's POV It had been a week and a half since I’d arrived in New York, and already, the city felt like it was stitching me back together, piece by piece. My mornings had a rhythm now: a cup of coffee cradled between my hands as I sat on the gallery's front steps, watching the endless stream of people passing by. Each face, each hurried footstep, reminded me of how easy it was to lose yourself in the hum of the city, and in a way, that was exactly what I needed.I was the new manager at Gravia’s Art Gallery—a small but renowned space known for showcasing some of the most daring contemporary artists. The gallery was tucked into a narrow street, surrounded by antique bookstores and cafes that always smelled of freshly baked bread. The job was fast-paced and unpredictable, every day offering something new. I loved it—the feeling of being at the center of something vibrant, of finally finding my place among people who shared my passion for creation and self-expression.In the back room
I opened my eyes to complete darkness. The sheets around me were too soft, too luxurious. I wasn’t in my apartment—that much was obvious. I sat up slowly, my heart thudding as I stood and ran my fingers up and down the walls for a light switch.Finally landing upon it I flipped the switch on and took in the room, the dark walls, the faint scent of leather and wood bombarding me with the truth of exactly where I was..Then my gaze fell on the wall across from me, and I froze. My painting—the one I’d done in a fit of rebellion, my not-so-subtle middle finger to Constantine. He not only kept it... He hung it up.And then my eyes drifted to the other wall, and I felt the invisible dagger twist deeper into my chest. A portrait I’d painted of him, when he was all I could see, all I wanted to capture. What I told myself would be an orange. He never returned the painting and I never wanted it back given what it represented.I didn't want to see the light in Constantine. I needed to believe h
Constantine left to attend an emergency business meeting. His simple instruction had been not to leave the room until he returned. He’d never restricted me to his office before. It felt like he was hiding me.I stayed put, though, because wandering the house felt odd considering I had never done it alone and that there could be actual skeletons in his closet.The thought of staying with him for two weeks gnawed at me as I sat on the plush leather couch in his expansive office, staring at the skyline through the tall windows.But I knew if I hadn’t agreed, Constantine would never let me have my own life. A knock interrupted my thoughts, followed by the sound of the door creaking open.“Constantine—” Carlisle called, stepping inside. His voice died as his eyes landed on me. He froze.“April,” he said softly, breaking out of his trance and walking toward me. “I thought you were in New York?”“I was,” I admitted, my tone wary.He sighed, leaning against the desk, arms crossed as he scrut
This is a story about how I met a man I hated to love. His name is Constantine... ××× It was a summer morning, and I was feeling slightly off about today. Something in me told me not to go outside but I couldn't help it. I needed to work in order to pay for my wedding. Everyone was so proud that little old me was marrying a man who was a dentist. Such a respectable profession my mother quipped when she learned of my relationship with Doctor Evan Sterling. Your children will be geniuses and beautiful, my father said, happily shaking Evan's hand and shaking the man's whole body in the process. Did I want to marry Evan? That I didn't know as yet. He put me on the spot in a restaurant filled with people after a year of dating and I felt too bad to say no not yet I'm only twenty-five and not a woman from the eighteen hundreds. I did care for Evan. He was a nice guy and I found him attractive I just didn't think we'd settle into marriage so soon. I thought we would have more time. T
Day three of looking for a job didn't go as well as I thought it would. I still haven't told Evan that I got fired and I wasn't planning to. Instead, I told a little white lie about working shorter hours— and that's why I was currently looking for a new job. Evan didn't need to know it was because of my stupid manager that thought he was the monkey's eyebrows —just because he told a group of people trying to earn an honest living what and what not to do as well as tutored them on the proper and most effective way to kiss a customer's ass. "I admire you, April," Evan said, leaning over my coffee table and kissing my forehead. "Why is that?" I asked. "You're looking for a better job while your boss cut your shift hours. You have determination," please stop talking, "you're focused. Goal driven." He sang my praises. "You always get back on that horse and grab it by the reigns." Not the horse. The horse barely gave anyone a break. The horse seemed to dislike me and kept kicking me o
Sunday evenings we had lunch with my parents or Evan's. Recently we've been having it with both our parents and this time Evan's grandmother was going to be there. I was close to my family but no one ever supported my dreams of being an artist except Rain. Not even Evan though he said he did but he would often refer to it as a nice hobby which I translated into a pass time. Something not serious. But painting wasn't a pass time for me. It was a piece of my soul going into every one of my creations and no one seemed to see that. Evan parked his car in the driveway behind his parent's car. "Do you need a lift in the morning to work since your car is in the shop?" He asked.I was barely managing to keep up with my lies. I hid my car from Evan because the front bumper was a little banged up. "No," I blurted and he had a confused look on his face. "Okay..." He dragged out. "I already made arrangements with a co-worker." I slid out of the car in a rush to go inside before I told more l
Constantine's Pov The door slammed causing me to sit up quickly in bed, firstly mishearing and thinking it was a gunshot. "Constantine!" My father's voice pulled me back to the land of the living and angry, chasing the remnants of my sleep away. My eyes squinted though the room wasn't bright-— that door slam sent shock waves to my head. I focused on him standing at the foot of my bed. He was dressed in a grey suit and looked more stressed than when he left. He was home two days early. "You're back," my words sounded like a groan. He let out a sigh of disapproval and reached for the master remote on the dresser. He pressed a button and the thick black curtains slowly parted. Bright sunlight bombarded the dimly lit room irritating my eyes. "What is the meaning of this!" He demanded glancing at the two women in my bed. I balanced on my elbows, pushing myself up to look at him. "I can explain it in a few words or a lot of words." I grinned. After a certain age, a man stopped fearin
Constantine left to attend an emergency business meeting. His simple instruction had been not to leave the room until he returned. He’d never restricted me to his office before. It felt like he was hiding me.I stayed put, though, because wandering the house felt odd considering I had never done it alone and that there could be actual skeletons in his closet.The thought of staying with him for two weeks gnawed at me as I sat on the plush leather couch in his expansive office, staring at the skyline through the tall windows.But I knew if I hadn’t agreed, Constantine would never let me have my own life. A knock interrupted my thoughts, followed by the sound of the door creaking open.“Constantine—” Carlisle called, stepping inside. His voice died as his eyes landed on me. He froze.“April,” he said softly, breaking out of his trance and walking toward me. “I thought you were in New York?”“I was,” I admitted, my tone wary.He sighed, leaning against the desk, arms crossed as he scrut
I opened my eyes to complete darkness. The sheets around me were too soft, too luxurious. I wasn’t in my apartment—that much was obvious. I sat up slowly, my heart thudding as I stood and ran my fingers up and down the walls for a light switch.Finally landing upon it I flipped the switch on and took in the room, the dark walls, the faint scent of leather and wood bombarding me with the truth of exactly where I was..Then my gaze fell on the wall across from me, and I froze. My painting—the one I’d done in a fit of rebellion, my not-so-subtle middle finger to Constantine. He not only kept it... He hung it up.And then my eyes drifted to the other wall, and I felt the invisible dagger twist deeper into my chest. A portrait I’d painted of him, when he was all I could see, all I wanted to capture. What I told myself would be an orange. He never returned the painting and I never wanted it back given what it represented.I didn't want to see the light in Constantine. I needed to believe h
April's POV It had been a week and a half since I’d arrived in New York, and already, the city felt like it was stitching me back together, piece by piece. My mornings had a rhythm now: a cup of coffee cradled between my hands as I sat on the gallery's front steps, watching the endless stream of people passing by. Each face, each hurried footstep, reminded me of how easy it was to lose yourself in the hum of the city, and in a way, that was exactly what I needed.I was the new manager at Gravia’s Art Gallery—a small but renowned space known for showcasing some of the most daring contemporary artists. The gallery was tucked into a narrow street, surrounded by antique bookstores and cafes that always smelled of freshly baked bread. The job was fast-paced and unpredictable, every day offering something new. I loved it—the feeling of being at the center of something vibrant, of finally finding my place among people who shared my passion for creation and self-expression.In the back room
Constantine's POV By the time the car rolled to a stop outside the address, I’d finished reading into Lexi’s files. The images and texts I found were shocking, I was not expecting this but I knew how to turn a situation in my favour. I kicked open the front door, striding in with Carlisle and Cavalon flanking me.“Darling, I’m home," I called as I stepped into the room to see Lexi and Kate, curled together on the couch like conspiring schoolgirls. They sprang apart upon seeing me and Kate jumped to her feet, instinctively placing herself in front of Lexi. I had to admire her bravery. “Where’s Jones?” Kate demanded, her voice defiant. I tilted my head, amused by her courage as I stepped forward, wrapping my hand around her throat. Her pulse raced beneath my fingers. “You’re in no position to be asking questions, sweetheart.” Kate’s lips twisted into a smirk even as my grip tightened. “If I were straight, maybe I’d actually be enjoying this,” she sneered, trying to keep her
Constantine's POV I was nearing the final hour—the countdown to when Lexi’s captor threatened to end her life if the ransom wasn’t delivered. My security team had identified the woman’s face: Kate Kravosky. I wracked my brain, trying to recall if I’d ever crossed paths with her, but came up blank. Even the mayor didn’t have answers, though he promised to mobilize his security to search every corner of the town. With time slipping away, I requested my best IT guys to hack into Lexi’s phone to dig up her chat history and current location. If only she’d used one of my company’s models, the process would’ve been faster. I grabbed the duffel bag of cash and moved to head out. “I’m coming with you,” I heard Carlisle’s voice, turning to find him standing by the stairwell. “Don’t need company,” I replied, moving for the door. As I reached my car and placed the money in the backseat, I heard Cavalon say, “I miss the times we kicked ass together.” I turned to see him and Carlisle behin
Constantine's POV “Fuck!” I roared, hurling the bottle of whiskey against the wall. Glass exploded, sending shards in every direction; one grazed my hand. I barely felt it. I was too blinded by anger. The sting of her words felt like acid coursing through my veins. I had never been so raw with anyone before, never allowed myself to feel anything. I felt like a fucking fool begging her. But I wasn't prepared to beg anymore. She shook my soul when she put that gun in my hand, asking me to kill her so she could be free from me. I thought I was good to her. I thought maybe she felt something for me after all this time. Why would she leave? Did she have unresolved feelings for Evan… or for Carlisle? I just wanted her to talk to me, but she wouldn't. She kept accusing me, assuming I wanted to shame her into making her my mistress. I flung another bottle at the wall, and as it shattered, a low whistle came from the doorway. Cavalon, ever the calm shadow in my storm, leaned against th
Constantine pulled me away from Carlilse and through the crowd. "Don't say a word and don't make a scene," he warned as he led me away from the dancers. I had no choice but to listen. He wasn't going to stop harassing me tonight and his family was starting to notice the tension between us. We had to resolve this. Whatever it was. He led me to a boardroom and shut the door. "What the fuck?" He demanded. "I don't think I owe you any explanations." I could feel the expression on my face change. He closed the distance between us, his finger tilting my chin up so that I was forced to make eye contact with him. "What do you take me for?" "What do you want, Constantine?" I moved away from him. "You," he crossed his arms casually as if what he said didn't sound insane. "Great," sarcasm laced my tone, "what about Lexi?" I asked. "Our marriage is an arrangement," he repeated the same words over and I was tired of hearing it. "Yeah sure it is," I smiled, but there was no happin
The moment I stepped into the ballroom, it felt like every pair of eyes locked onto me, dissecting, scrutinizing—even though I knew they weren’t. All of them were here for Constantine and Lexi, the city’s power couple.I was just another guest—or rather, a pawn—trapped in a ridiculous green dress Lexi had personally picked out. She’d said it "matched the theme." In reality, it was hideous: a swampy, sickly color that felt more like a taunt than an outfit. The fabric scratched against my skin, and I caught hidden laughs from the other staff dressed in equally unflattering shades.We were a parade of walking insults.Clenching the stem of my champagne flute, I forced myself to smile through the growing sense of discomfort, nodding politely to a few members in the crowd. My hands felt clammy, and I took a shallow sip to calm my nerves, the bubbles tickling my nose. Finding a safe corner near a tall potted plant, I blended into the background—hidden enough to breathe but with a clear vie
"April, what have you done?" my mother shouted over the phone as I rushed to get into the elevator."Mom, it's not what I wanted," I admitted."Evan came by earlier and told us everything. Did you have an affair with your boss?" she yelled."Evan just assumed because I didn't want to marry him. I wasn't having an affair," I said, infuriated. Why would he tell my parents that?"April, you need to make this right. Evan is a good man. You're being silly, and you're not a child anymore. It's time to grow up.""With all due respect, Mother, it is my life. Evan is someone you want me to marry, but I do not want to marry him. I would be miserable. He doesn’t support my ambitions, and I don't feel that spark when I'm with him. I want what you and Dad have." There was silence. "Just because I'm not a doctor, lawyer, or accountant doesn't mean I'm not grown. Those aren't my passions, and I'm tired of pretending to be something I'm not just to make everyone feel comfortable with me. Accept me as