Sunset drenched Ethan's office in sticky honey light.

I slumped over a pile of calculus papers, brain mushier than a blendered smoothie.

Ethan lounged beside me, gold-rimmed glasses glinting.

long fingers twirling my tangled brown waves.

"You look like a dozing kitten," he murmured, voice smooth as sin.

My eyelids sagged, symbols swimming.

"This junk's tougher than alien code," I mumbled, fading fast.

He chuckled, hand sliding to my neck, Voice firm.

"You've got this, Sophie. For us."

Jerk.

Dreams flickered in like waterlogged film, grainy and blurred.

Six years old, shivering on a foster cot, cold clawing through a thin blanket.

A chestnut-curled kid hops the fence, knees grassy, shoving warm cheesecake into my hands.

"Don't be scared." His face blurs, lost in mist.

***

My phone's buzz jolted me awake.

I blinked—sprawled on Ethan's luxe four-poster bed, cheesecake sweetness haunting my lips.

A random number flashed.

I picked up—Alexander's voice rasped through, panicked.

"Sophie, Emma's gone. Ethan snatched her—I need—"

The mattress dipped.

Ethan yanked my phone, killing the call.

Firelight carved his face sharp, gray-green gaze icy behind glasses.

He pinned me with a predator's stare.

"No interruptions during lessons, Sophie." 

he said, calm as a snake.

I lunged for the phone, nearly face-planting off the bed.

"Where'd you stash Emma, you creep?!"

He pinned me back to the silk sheets, leaning in close.

That woody cologne slammed me—smoky, magnetic, dangerous as hell.

"Stay put this week," with a restrained voice.

I shoved at him, brain spinning.

"You're caging me to kidnap Emma, right?"

Book says he's the lovesick second lead pining for her.

Lovesick? More like unhinged.

He dropped my phone, inching closer, face pale as frost.

His shaky fingers popped two shirt buttons, firelight tracing his collarbone.

"That chick?" he scoffed, voice dripping mockery.

"She's less fun than my coffee table."

I swallowed hard, glaring. 

"Then where is she?"

He snatched my wrists, pinning them down.

His thumbs pressed my pulse, electric sparks jolting through me.

My breath hitched, skin buzzing under his grip.

"I'm clean," he smirked, all smug.

"No kidnapping here."

His fingers trailed up my arm, leaving a buzzy sting.

His pallor flushed pink—weird as sin.

He stood, pocketing my phone.

"Save your fight," he said, striding out.

The door clicked shut, locking me in this steamy, messed-up haze.

I flopped back, rubbing my burning wrists, staring at the ceiling.

Everything I've done for Alexander is to shove this dumb plot along.

drain his cash, bolt home.

But Ethan's crashing in, flipping it all upside down.

I yanked the blanket over my head, thoughts a tangled wreck.

"If he doesn't want Emma, what's he after?"

That cheesecake memory clung to me—soft, warm, too real.

Like a ghost I couldn't shake.

Or a truth I couldn't face.