Ash Leclair wasn’t expecting his life to change when he moved into his best friend’s apartment. It was meant to be temporary, just a quiet few weeks while his place was being renovated. But what he didn’t count on was Celeste Noelle Rivera, the best friend’s little sister, now older, bolder, and breathtaking in ways he wasn’t prepared for.

She walks around the apartment like she owns it, teasing with a smile, speaking with confidence, dressed in clothes that shouldn’t look as dangerous as they do. Ash, ever the polite one, keeps his distance. He’s soft-spoken, reserved, careful with everything he does, especially when it comes to women like her.

But Celeste has always known how to push boundaries, and she’s not afraid of chasing what she wants. And what she wants, more than anything, is him.

At first, it’s playful—flirting, subtle touches, stolen glances across the room. Ash tries to ignore it. He tells himself it’s harmless, that it doesn’t mean anything. But deep down, her presence is starting to unearth something in him he’s buried for years: desire, longing, curiosity, the need to be seen and touched and wanted.

As the days pass, the air between them grows heavier. Their conversations stretch longer. Their silence deepens. One moment, they’re sharing coffee in the kitchen. The next, he’s memorizing the shape of her mouth as she smiles. And soon, she’s kissing him like she’s always known how he’d taste, and he’s kissing her back like he’s afraid to stop.

Ash isn’t the type to chase. He doesn’t take risks. He doesn’t fall easily. But with Celeste, he doesn’t stand a chance. Because the more she touches him, the more he needs her. And the more he resists, the more he aches.

She pulls him into her world with every teasing word and every lingering look. And slowly, he begins to surrender, not just to her body, but to her presence, her boldness, the way she makes him feel seen for the first time in years.

This isn’t just about lust. It’s about emotional seduction, about a quiet man being undone by a woman who never once asked him to change, only to let go. And when he finally gives in, when he lets her see all of him, he discovers that maybe corruption was just another word for being chosen.

And once she has him, Celeste has no intention of letting him go.

"Delivery service!" Rowan announced, muscling two stuffed paper bags inside. "Sugar, caffeine, and whatever else keeps us alive."


Isadora followed, juggling more snacks and bottled juices. She beamed at Ash.


 "Hope you like strawberry milk—I bought three."


Ash—still pink-faced and standing a suspicious distance from Celeste—managed a stiff nod.


Celeste flicked her hair behind one shoulder, posture as relaxed as if she'd spent the last five minutes doing absolutely nothing interesting.


The apartment was buzzing with activity.


Boxes were being torn open. Snacks were being shoved into drawers. And laughter filled the space like nothing was off at all.


Isadora stood a little too close to Ash while arranging his bookshelf.


"I didn't know you read poetry," she said with a sweet smile. "It's kinda romantic."


Ash blinked. "It's just… structured language," he mumbled, tucking a book into place.


Celeste, crouched by the kitchen counter, said nothing.


She was arranging utensils in a drawer—mechanically, wordlessly—until her phone lit up and vibrated across the counter


But what greeted her was a shaky voice on the edge of tears.


She straightened, alarm flashing in her eyes.


"H—he broke up with me," Lyka sobbed. "He just ended things like I was nothing—after everything…"


"Why are you quiet?" Lyka asked, still sniffling.


"Because I had no idea you even had a boyfriend."


Lyka sniffed. "I know. I know, I'm sorry. I didn't want to jinx it. I thought he was different. I'm so stupid—"


"I'm near the west plaza, at Cinna Bean. Corner seat."


Celeste glanced toward the others—Ash and Isadora still talking by the shelves, completely absorbed, and Rowan only a few inches away, crouched in front of the lower cabinet while sorting stacked plates.


"Hey," she murmured, brushing past him slightly.


Rowan glanced up, a towel slung over his shoulder.


"I'm heading out. Something came up." already turning toward the door. 


The door clicked shut as she stepped out.


His head turned instinctively toward the sound—but no one stood there. Just the faint sway of the door settling back into its frame.


Chapter 20 - CHAPTER EIGHTEEN “Three’s a Crowd”