Chris pushed open the glass door of City Roast Café, the small bell above the frame announcing his arrival. Amber didn’t notice him at first, she was behind the counter, carefully pouring steamed milk into a cup for a waiting customer. Chris walked in quietly, hands in his pockets. “Hey, ma’am. Can I get a cappuccino?”Amber’s head snapped up. “Chris?!” Her eyes widened for a brief second, but her voice remained calm. “What a surprise. Erm… yeah, sure, I’ll get that ready for you.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Not even close. “Thanks.” He hesitated, then added quietly, “I’m not here just for the coffee, Amber. Do you think you can spare a few minutes? We need to talk.” he said, not meeting her eyes.Amber froze mid-step, the cup still in her hand. “Uhmm… yeah, sure,” she said after a moment, her voice lighter than she felt. “I’ll take care of this real quick and join you. Sit wherever you want.” “Alright.” Chris gave a short nod and walked toward a seat at the far

Amber’s breath hitched when Xavier’s lips brushed against hers, hesitant but desperate, as though he’d been holding back for far too long. For a split second, they both froze, their foreheads touching, neither daring to move.“Xav…” she whispered, her voice trembling. She wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a plea.His eyes locked on hers, burning, questioning. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured. His thumb grazed her cheek, slow, tender, dangerous. “One word, Amber. Just one, and I’ll stop.”But no word came.Instead, she leaned in, her lips finding his again, harder this time. It wasn’t soft or unsure anymore, it was raw, urgent. Years of suppressed feelings, unspoken tension, and silent yearning all poured into that kiss.Xavier let out a ragged breath, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. His lips moved against hers like he was memorizing the shape of her mouth, the taste of her. She clutched his shirt, twisting the fabric in her fists as though he was the only

“Mr. Chris Walker?”Chris looked up from his phone. The receptionist at Hudson Federal Bank was smiling politely, gesturing toward the hallway. “Mr. Coogler will see you now.”Chris shoved his phone into his pocket, exhaled, and walked toward the office. His heart was pounding like a drum. This wasn’t the first bank he had tried, but if this one said no too, he didn’t know what else to do. “Chris! Long time,” Mr. Coogler said, standing to shake his hand. His suit was sharp, and his smile looked like it had been rehearsed in a mirror. “Yeah,” Chris said, forcing a grin. “Been busy with the studio. How are you?” “Good, good. Sit down, let’s get right into it. So, you’re requesting a twenty-five-thousand-dollar loan?” Reynolds asked, flipping through a folder.Chris nodded. “Yes. I just need a little push to sort some things out. I promise I’ll pay it back. I’ll work double shifts if I have to.”Coogler hummed. “Chris, you know I respect you, but this is… difficult. Your credit

Amber’s breath fogged in the cold night as she waited by the curb. The dark sedan slowed and stopped in front of her. Matteo stepped out, adjusting his coat, his face as sharp as she remembered. “Amber,” he said with a small smile. “It's not a good thing we keep meeting for your emergencies. You look like you’ve been through hell.”Amber crossed her arms. “I don’t have time for jokes, Matteo. Do you have it?”He raised a brow. “Straight to business? No hello? No ‘how’s the fiancée?’” “Matteo…” her voice had that edge that meant she wasn’t playing. “Fine,” he sighed, gesturing to the car. “Get in.”Inside the car, Matteo pulled a leather folder from the glove compartment and handed it to her. “Your Celeste,” he said, “is far from a saint. You were right to call me.”Amber flipped open the folder, her eyes darting over photos. Celeste, draped over Antonio’s arm in one. Another of her in a bar, laughing with men who screamed trouble. And then, invoices of dirty transactions, offsh

“Antonio?” Lisa’s voice cut through the air like a whip.The music by the poolside was soft, a lazy tune drifting through the air, but Lisa’s blood boiled as she walked barefoot across the tiles. She’d spent the past thirty minutes alone in their hotel room waiting, staring at the ceiling, wondering why Antonio had suddenly gone silent. When she stepped out and saw him laughing with a girl who looked barely twenty-three, sitting way too close on a sunbed, her heart sank. Antonio didn’t flinch. He leaned back, his arm draped across a stange girl’s shoulder, a cocktail glass dangling between his fingers. “Lisa! My darling wife you’re out here. How nice of you to finally join us." “Finally join you?” Lisa’s eyes darted between him and the girl, her jaw tightening. “What the hell is this? Who is she?”The girl smirked, twirling a strand of her glossy black hair around her finger. “Name’s Chloe, and you must be the wife.”Lisa’s breath caught. “Must be the... Antonio, are you ser