Continue reading ➡️
“Rules are optional.” I hated him on sight 😤—Danny Vega, the West Side biker with a sharp mouth and dangerous grin 🏍️🔥. He mocked me, challenged me, made me feel seen when I didn’t want to be. What I didn’t know? The man I fought in real life was the same man who held me together in the dark 😳💔. Ghost—the voice who listened when I cried, who made me feel wanted without touching me—was standing in front of me the whole time 😮💨. When I realize the truth, everything shatters. Because how do you fall for the man you were taught to hate… when he already owns your soul? 🖤❤️🔥 Chapter 1 Nora’s POV Tristan is talking about himself again. I watch his mouth move, shaping words I stopped hearing ten minutes ago. His father's investment firm. A merger. Summer plans at the Hamptons house that our parents are already discussing without us. "And my mom mentioned the engagement timeline again," he says, swirling his wine. "Next spring. After graduation. Your father agrees." "That's nice," I say. He does not notice the flatness in my voice. He never does. Tristan reaches across the white tablecloth and takes my hand. His grip is firm, possessive — the touch of a man who has already calculated exactly what I am worth to him. "You seem distracted," he frowns. "Just tired. Long week." "You should take better care of yourself. I need you looking fresh for the charity gala next month." He squeezes my hand once, then releases it to check his phone. "Mom's already picked out your dress." I nod and smile, performing the role I have perfected over years of practice. He does not ask how my week was or why I am tired — he has never cared. I am an asset in his portfolio, a checkbox on his life plan. And I stay. Because this is what I know. Because my parents raised me to understand that love is a transaction and I should be grateful anyone is buying. He pays and walks me to my car. His goodnight kiss is brief, mechanical — all the passion of a handshake. His hands stay at my waist because he
