Blair jolted awake, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Beads of sweat clung to her skin, and her trembling hands clutched the threadbare blanket draped over her. Her tear-streaked face caught the faint light filtering through a single cracked window, the weak glow casting uneven shadows across the peeling walls of her small apartment.

  Her breaths were ragged and shallow, yet the memory lingered, heavy and vivid, as she pressed a hand to her chest, attempting to ground herself in the present.

  She buried her face in her trembling hands, but the vivid images resurfaced. The sound of the car plunging deeper into the lake echoed in her mind, deafening and relentless.

  Her tiny hands clawed desperately at the car door handle, slipping on the slick metal as panic consumed her. The fabric of the seat pressed into her knees as she sobbed uncontrollably, her high-pitched voice cracking with each plea.

  “I don’t want to die! Please, Aunt Nathaly! Open the door! Let me out!” she screamed, her words a desperate plea for salvation.

  “It’s okay, my child,” Ezra’s mom said with a warm smile, her voice gentle as if she were promising a trip to a sunny meadow rather than the depths of the lake. “This is our fate. You and Mommy Nath will never be alone forever.”

  The memory faded, only to be replaced by another—the closet.

  She was hiding in her mother’s walk-in closet, her small fingers clutching the delicate fabric of a dress that her grandfather had bought for the Taylor-Wilson family dinner. Excited to surprise her mother, Blair crouched quietly, waiting for the perfect moment to jump out.

  But then her father’s voice echoed through the room, causing her world to tilt.

  “Divorce?” Scott’s tone was sharp and demanding.

  She froze, her heart raced as her mother replied with a trembling voice, “Having a child wasn’t part of the plan…”

  Blair pressed herself deeper into the closet, her hands trembling uncontrollably. “But I could have aborted—”

  She curled into herself on her small bed, her breathing uneven as a storm of memories refused to relent. The sting of her grandmother’s words struck her like fresh wounds, and her mind plunged into the icy depths of that day—the day she lost everything.

  Her hands trembled as she grasped the pen and signed the non-disclosure agreement that severed her ties to the Wilson family permanently.

  Her grandmother’s voice shattered the deafening silence after she made her last stroke of the pen. “You are on your own now, Blair,” she said, each syllable dripping with disdain. “You will live a life worse than death—alone, despised, and forgotten. No one—not even your own flesh and blood—will care whether you live or die. This is the consequence of your actions.”

  When she looked at her parents, they hastily wiped away their tears, their gazes heavy with doubt, believing that she had pushed Diane off the balcony—a silent accusation that cut deeper than words ever could.

  As the towering gates of the Wilson mansion closed behind her, she felt the icy grip of reality settle over her. She was utterly alone.

  Blair sat up slowly, her body trembling as she cradled her aching head in her hands. A sharp, mocking laugh escaped her lips—a fractured sound filled with bitterness and anguish. It was a laughter that clawed at the edges of her sanity, a cruel symphony of all the lies, betrayals, and heartbreaks that had brought her to this moment.

  She gazed at the cracked ceiling, her voice soft yet laced with scorn. “Actually,” she muttered, her lips curling into a hollow smile, “I’ve been truly alone from the very beginning. Isn’t that right, Spencer?”

  She clutched her chest, her fingers digging into her skin as she struggled to hold herself together while laughter faded into gasping breaths. “You know what I discovered?” she said in a hollow tone. “I’ve been nothing but dead weight—someone no one wishes to carry.”

  Her words lingered in the oppressive atmosphere of the dimly lit apartment, unanswered.

  Silence.

  A chilly breeze brushed against her skin, prompting her gaze toward the window. There, half-shrouded in darkness, stood Spencer. He leaned against the frame, his silhouette sharp and menacing, with the faint light from the street outside casting jagged shadows across his face.

  For a long moment, he said nothing. His cold-blooded eyes remained fixed on hers until she returned from her slumber.

  Her breaths slowed as her trembling body finally succumbed to exhaustion. Perhaps it was a desperate yearning for comfort—an unconscious plea to ease her heavy heart—that led her to dream of the happiest moment in her life: her 20th birthday.

  The memory unfolded vividly, transporting her far from the suffocating confines of her small apartment and the darkness of heartaches and misery.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Her excitement bubbled over as she stood outside Ezra’s office, clutching the neck of her ukulele. She had flown halfway across the world to orchestrate this birthday surprise for him on her own birthday. It wasn’t every day that she got to catch the nonchalant Ezra Taylor off guard, and she was determined to make this moment unforgettable.

  Her heart raced as she cautiously pushed open the door to his private workspace. The room was precisely as she had envisioned—sleek, modern, and meticulously organized, with towering shelves filled with technical manuals and a bank of monitors glowing in the dim light. At the center of it all sat Ezra, perched on the edge of his chair, his brow furrowed as his fingers danced across the keyboard.

  He didn’t even glance up when she entered; he was focused on the intricate code scrolling across the screen.

  She grinned mischievously as she slipped inside and closed the door behind her with a soft click. He was so absorbed in his work on his new cybersecurity system update that he didn’t turn his head to look at her. Blair, suppressing a giggle, settled into his massive leather swivel chair, her ukulele resting on her lap. Her fingers lightly plucked the strings as she began the melody of “The Show” by Lenka.

  I’m just a little bit caught in the middle

  Life is a maze, and love is a riddle

  I don’t know where to go; can’t do it alone; I’ve tried.

  And I don’t know why

  Her sweet voice filling the quiet office. She used her foot to nudge the chair’s wheels, scooting closer to his desk. When Ezra stood abruptly to retrieve something from the bookshelf, she grinned mischievously. With a swift push off the floor, she glided behind him, swiveling dramatically as the chair spun to a halt.

  Slow it down

  Make it stop

  Or else my heart is going to pop

  ‘Cause it’s too much

  Yeah, it’s a lot

  To be something I’m not

  I’m a fool

  Out of love

  ‘Cause I just can’t get enough

  Ezra finally turned, raising an eyebrow at her. “Blair, shouldn’t you be celebrating your birthday with a grand banquet with your family and friends?”

  I’m just a little bit caught in the middle

  Life is a maze, but my love is here

  Ezra tried to walk toward his desk again, but she deftly steered the chair in front of him, blocking his path like a determined obstacle course.

  I know where to go; can’t do it alone; I’ve tried

  And you certainly know why—she ad-libbed, laughing as the chair bumped into his leg.

  I’m just a little girl, caught in the act

  Trying to stay my pride, but it’s all just a fact

  Your face is a weapon, and I’m helpless to fight,

  Caught in the web of your handsome delight!

  And just enjoy the show

  My knees get weak, and my heart skips a beat,

  Every time you frown, I can’t help but swoon!—Blair chuckled softly, shaking her head as she continued her song.

  Just enjoy the show

  Dum de dum

  Dudum de dum

  Just enjoy the show

  Ezra pinched his pointed nose, attempting to regain his composure. However, his lips kept on twitching, clearly struggling to suppress his laughter. “I am very busy, Blair,” he muttered, his voice soft yet tinged with an unmistakable hint of humor.

  She pouted her lips, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest as she plopped the ukulele down on Ezra’s desk. Tapping her foot impatiently, she was clearly unimpressed by his lack of enthusiasm.

  “Well?” she asked, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Where’s my birthday gift, Ezra?”

  “I thought flying across the continent just to see my handsome face was the best birthday gift you could ask for?” he said, his voice thick with amusement as he fought to suppress the grin tugging at his lips.

  Her exaggerated pout deepened as she batted her lashes at him in the most ridiculous manner she could muster. Ezra could no longer contain himself; he let out a small chuckle, clearly charmed by her antics.

  “Alright, alright,” he relented, pausing his work on the computer. “What birthday gift do you want?”

  With an exaggeratedly brave expression, she stood up from her chair, puffing out her chest as if preparing for a grand declaration. “Kiss,” she said playfully. “I’m twenty now—a fully legal adult. That means I can ask for... intimate things.”

  She approached him with a teasing elegance, accentuating her beauty. Her amber eyes, brimming with playful mischief, locked onto his, while her lips, slightly parted in anticipation, appeared to be waiting for his next move.

  She lifted her long, proportionate leg; her thin heel made a soft click as it touched the ground. In a fluid motion, she placed her knee between his legs on the chair. The move was daring—a bold invitation wrapped in flirtation. Her glittery, short skirt shimmered with every shift.

  “So, what do you say, Mr. Handsome?” she teased, her voice laced with sweetness as she leaned in just enough for him to glimpse her neckline, the soft curve of her chest subtly revealed by the plunging v-neck of her skin-toned shirt.

  Her sparkling eyes and the way she gripped his shoulder, made it clear that pushing her would not be easy. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze sweeping down to his sexy lips and then back to his blue eyes.

  His breath hitched, and he gulped, clearly taken aback by her boldness. His eyes flickered uncomfortably to the side, as if trying to evade the daring intensity of her gaze. “Didn’t I tell you to wear a proper dress?” he asked, his voice slightly rougher than he intended, the words escaping almost like a reflex.

  Blair’s lips curled into a sly smile as her fingers trailed up to his necktie, playfully toying with it. She gave it a gentle tug, leaning in just enough to close the distance between them. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she loosened the knot, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she had all the time in the world.

  “Isn’t this a proper dress for a woman seducing her fiancé?” she teased, her voice a playful purr that sent a rush of color to Ezra’s face.

  Her gaze flickered between his now slightly loosened tie as she added, “And don’t worry, only you can touch it.”

  She smiled confidently, fully aware that she could push this far without worrying about any serious consequences. She knew he was practically a monk or a piece of wood—solid and completely uninterested in anything unrelated to technology or his precious cybersecurity business.

  That’s what made teasing him so enjoyable, despite his monk-like stoicism. However, instead of retreating, he did the opposite. With a sudden, fluid motion, Ezra jerked his head closer, his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers. His hand slid to her waist, firm yet gentle, pulling her just enough to close the space between them.

  “I’ll count to eight,” each word laced with challenge. “If you don’t push me away by then… you’ll take responsibility for what happens next.”

  For a man who supposedly possessed the romantic instincts of a motherboard, he was proving surprisingly adept at flipping the script.

  Her confident smirk dissolved into a flustered grimace. Her lips parted as if to deliver another teasing quip, but the words became tangled somewhere between her brain and her mouth. Instead, she let out an unintentional, high-pitched squeak.