“Shit.”The word escaped Xavier on a ragged breath. He stared at the photograph, his own oblivious, laughing profile a brutal counterpoint to the unmistakable love in Ari's gaze.He snapped the photo strip shut inside the clutch. "Goddammit, Ari," he muttered, not in anger, but in a wave of sickening guilt.He had to fix this. It didn't matter what he felt, or what Genesis told him he felt. It mattered that he had just left his clearly distraught, drunken, and upset secretary alone on a street corner in the middle of the night.He turned and broke into a run, sprinting down the street in the direction she had gone. He ran for two blocks, eyes scanning every passing car and shadowed doorway. He checked the bus stop, the entrance to an all-night diner.Nothing. She was gone.“Ari! ARI!” he shouted, his voice hoarse.He stopped, hands braced on his knees, panting. She was too fast, or maybe, thankfully, she'd managed to flag down a cab immediately. “She must have found a ride. She’s fine.

It was finally Monday morning which was his only guaranteed opportunity to face her. “Ding!” The elevator opened once it got to Xavier's floor and he stepped off. As he walked towards the office area,he saw her Ari was already there. She was seated at her desk. She wore a gray suit and her hair was pulled back so tightly that it emphasized the sharp, cool professionalism of her features. And made her look like she meant business. As he approached, she didn't meet his eye until he was directly in front of her. Then, her movements were swift and precise, like an automaton following protocol. She immediately stood up from her chair, her back straight. She gave him a stiff, formal bow. “Good morning, Mr. Stewart,” she said. Her voice was entirely devoid of the warmth he had gotten used to. It was cold, clear, and perfectly modulated, sounding like it was being read from a teleprompter. It immediately made him believe she has a wall built of ice between them. Xavier felt the blow

Ari’s vision swam. The massive, subterranean space wasn’t just a sight, it was an assault on her senses. Her gaze flew from the men counting money to the men in combat gear, from the mapping software on the screens to the general’s level of discipline in the movement of every individual. She stumbled backward a half-step, her terrified eyes locking onto Xavier. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant commotion. Her hands came up, a small, futile barrier between her and the impossible scene. “This isn’t real. Xavier, tell me this isn’t real. It’s a… a set for a movie, right? You just rented this place for a few hours right?.” But even as the words left her mouth, a cold dread settled deep in her stomach. It was the way the men looked at him. As Xavier surveyed his domain, dozens of heads—hard, watchful, and focused—turned his way. They didn't just look,they nodded, they lowered their eyes, and they offered a silent, ingrained deference that went beyond the res

The iron gates of Gabriele’s villa swung inward, allowing a convoy of three black, armored SUVs to pull through. Leonardo stepped out first, his posture rigid and his eyes sweeping the grounds with disdain. He was followed by his four personal security men. Gabriele was waiting on the marble steps, with false warmth on his face. He was dressed in expensive loungewear,with his arm spread out,ready to welcome Leonardo into his abode “Leonardo! My friend, welcome,” Gabriele said, spreading his arms wider in a welcoming, yet slightly theatrical, gesture. “I am delighted you made the journey. Please, come in. I have prepared everything for your comfort.” The men were ushered into a lavish, almost gaudy, sitting room. Before Leonardo could even settle, a door opened, and a line of six stunning, expensively dressed women walked in, each one offering a practiced, alluring smile. Gabriele grinned, the perfect host. “Consider this as a refreshment, Leonardo. Pick one for yourself, and your

After a long terrifying day,Ari finally stumbled into her apartment. She didn't turn on the lights, letting the street lamps cast weak patterns on the floor. In the kitchen, she reached deep into the fridge for a cold can of hard cider, needing something stronger. Once she grabbed the drink,she returned to the living room and sank onto the floor, she opened the can, the hiss loud in the silence. As she took a burning gulp, the liquid settled her nausea but did nothing for the cold dread. Fueled by a need to understand the monster she'd fallen for, she opened her laptop and typed Xavier Stewart into the search bar. The results were a sterile monument to corporate success, with nothing about his second lifestyle. “He really did so well to erase the information about himself from the internet” she mumbled to herself as she stretched. Then she tried again, typing Alessia, his late wife. The search yielded hundreds of results and she was ready to check them all, but one profile image c