“I think it’s a boy,” Cecil whispered into my ear, her breath warm against my skin as she rested her head on my shoulder. Her hand gently rubbed her slightly bulged stomach, a tender gesture that made my heart swell. “You haven’t gone for a scan yet?” I asked, a bit surprised.“Not yet,” she sighed, taking a long noisy slurp from her smoothie.“And why is that?” I pressed.“I want it to be a surprise,” she admitted. “But Theo doesn’t. He wants us to know the gender so we can start buying things. Do you think it’s a good idea?”“C, you have less than four months left,” I pointed out gently but firmly. “You still haven’t gotten anything for the baby. What do you think will happen when you give birth? It will be chaos, total chaos.”She nodded, biting her lip thoughtfully. “Well then, will you come with me to the doctor?” “Yeah, sure,” I replied, squeezing her hand. “I’ll come with you.”“Now” “Now?!” We waited until 4 PM when the sun looked like it was about to set before I freshene

I met Tatiana, the twenty three year old fashion blogger with over millions of followers on all social platforms, at our new warehouse that evening. With a striking ginger hair that made her stand out in a crowd. Her energy was infectious, and it put me at ease immediately. As we shook hands, I could tell she was excited about the tour. I was too. It wasn't every day that we got to showcase our hard work to someone who could help us reach a wider audience.We started the tour in the main production area. The large, open space was filled with rows of tables where skilled workers were cutting and sewing fabrics. I explained the layout and how each section had a specific role in the creation of our clothing line. Tatiana was attentive, her eyes bright with curiosity as she jotted down notes and snapped photos and made videos with her assistant/cameraman. “How do you ensure the quality of your materials? If you don't mind me asking, but I'm sure fashion obsessed people like you and I wou

I went through the month's catalogue for Luxury, flipping through the pages filled with high-end fashion designs. The bed was covered with design idea papers, sketches, and notes, all scattered around me. Among the mess were a few invites to a high-profile charity gala. I'd hit the jackpot, no doubt, but the work that came with such luck was overwhelming. If I were fully human, I'd probably be overdosing on painkillers from different brands. Yup, you read that right.The sheer volume of tasks that was still undone was staggering. From finalizing designs to coordinating with suppliers and ensuring everything met the exacting standards of Luxury, it felt like there weren't enough hours in the day. My phone buzzed constantly with emails and messages, each one demanding immediate attention.I sighed, rubbing my temples. The excitement of seeing my work featured in such a prestigious publication was blocked by the heavy workload. I glanced at the invite to the charity gala, a brief flicker

I stared out of the window from my room that overlooked the back of the house, wondering if my senses were glitching. It wouldn't be a surprise if they weren't, though, because lately, Penelope had been on my case and tail. The scent I had perceived a few minutes ago was definitely hers. It had to be.The full moonlight cast a soft glow over the backyard, highlighting the trees and gardens. It was full moon, soon you'll hear the men going out for hunting like they do.I sighed and turned away from the window, pacing my room. My thoughts kept circling back to Penelope. The last few times she came to me, she seemed on edge, constantly looking over her shoulder. I knew she was hiding something, that something was wrong, but whatever it is, it was her mess, her problem, and the last thing I wanted was to get involved with her, ever again.The last time I did, I left with my heart in my palm, so no more trusting.A sudden tap on the window startled me, making my heart race. I turned back q

The sound of the doors being pushed open with force sent a jolt of fear through me. I could hear them entering, their footsteps heavy and deliberate. My heart pounded in my chest as I darted into a small storage room, barely big enough for two people. I pressed myself against the wall, trying to make myself as small as possible.The clanging sounds of weapons hitting metal echoed through the warehouse, each strike making me jump. The noise was terrifying. I could hear them stalking closer, their movements methodical and unhurried, as if they were enjoying the game.My hands shook as I fumbled with my phone, dialing number after number. I tried calling everyone I could think of—Victor, Zara, Elizabeth, Jennie, even Damon—but every call went straight to voicemail. My heart sank with each failed attempt. "Please, someone answer," I whispered desperately, but there was only silence on the other end.I furiously prayed to the moon goddess, begging her to wake me if this was a nightmare or