Chase Sterling always felt like furniture. The kind you don't notice, the kind that's easy to shove in a corner and forget. He was used to it: people looked right through him, brushed him off like lint. But it only takes one phone call to erase a lifetime of being overlooked. When his estranged family meets a tragic end, Chase suddenly finds himself in charge of the sprawling Sterling fortune. Turns out, riches aren't the only thing the family left him. There's a curse running through his blood, warping love into something hungry and dangerous, impossible to escape.

Vivian Ashford never set out to blow Chase's life to smithereens. Just one decision (a sharp, ruthless move at graduation) was all it took to set their worlds spinning out of control. While Vivian soaks up the Hollywood limelight and collects red-carpet headlines, Chase slips into his new role as Manhattan's most intimidating heir. But no matter how far they run, something keeps yanking them back together, like a stitch in an old wound that refuses to heal.

The wine bottle is half empty when I finally admit what I'm about to do. It's 1 AM, I'm alone in my apartment, and every rational thought I possessed dissolved somewhere around glass three. Now I'm sitting on my kitchen floor with my phone, scrolling through deleted contacts, trying to remember the number I swore I'd never dial again.


Chase's personal cell. Not his business line, not his assistant's number. The direct line he gave me years ago when we were still pretending we could be friends after destroying each other at graduation.


I deleted it six months ago during a moment of strength and clarity that feels foreign now. But phone numbers have patterns, rhythms, and my fingers remember what my mind tried to forget.


I dial. It rings once. Twice. Part of me hopes he won't answer, that I'll get voicemail, that I can hang up and pretend this moment of weakness never happened.


He answers on the third ring. "Vivian."


Chapter 112 - Midnight Call