Ella The bathroom door clicked shut behind me, and I felt an immediate shift from chaos to calm. The soft lighting created a gentle glow on the cream-colored marble tiles, soft music played over the speakers, and the air smelled like soap. I let out a soft sigh of relief once I realized that I was alone, and made my way over to the sink. I glanced at myself in the mirror—flawless makeup, perfect hair, a dress that fit like a glove. I looked like the perfect picture of control, but I felt like the exact opposite. My heart was still racing from the dance with Logan, from the way his eyes glinted in the soft light of the ballroom, from the way that he so nonchalantly mentioned that our arrangement was almost over. But most of all, I was still reeling over the fact that I… was actually sad about it. With a sigh, I leaned on the marble countertop, taking in slow breaths. In, out. In, out. Suddenly, the door creaked open. I jerked my head up to see Moana walking in, a

Ella Emerging from the bathroom with Moana, my shoulders felt a little lighter after our chat. Talking to my mom had always been therapeutic, and I was glad to finally get the truth off of my chest, especially to someone who had experience in the realm of fake relationships for publicity. We made our way to the bar, weaving through the sea of ostentatiously-dressed mobsters and businessmen. I felt like a lamb amongst wolves, like prey waiting to be devoured. “Come on, let’s get a couple of martinis,” my mom suggested. “One for you, one for me. It always helps at events like this.” My mom put in our orders, to which the bartender nodded and began preparing our drinks with swift expertise. While we waited, my mom turned toward me, her eyes twinkling as she scanned the crowd. My father was standing off somewhere, having an animated conversation with someone who I didn’t recognize. One would have thought that they were old friends, though, judging from how my father

Logan Harry led me away from the throng of guests, his arm casually draped over my shoulder as if we were the best of pals, like old mates catching up and not rivals who hated each other to our very cores. We made our way to the bar, where I leaned over and ordered a whiskey on ice to calm my frayed nerves. “What did you want to talk about?” I asked, glancing at my brother. He shrugged. “Oh, I was just wondering… How did your recent legal escapade turn out? Ella was representing you, correct?” “Yeah, the murder case,” I said, my eyes narrowing just a fraction. “It went well, actually. Very well. Ella was exceptional.” Harry smirked. “Do tell.” “As it turned out, the opposing lawyer and his client were hiding evidence to frame me. But Ella found out. They’re both in a heap of trouble now; likely going to prison once they’re charged.” Harry let out a deep sigh, a performance designed to fool the unsuspecting. “Ah, such a pity. It was all so perfect, you kn

EllaLogan and I watched Marina saunter away, and it was as if the air suddenly felt ten pounds lighter. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding, and before I knew it I was sinking down onto the edge of the koi pond, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees.Now, even more than before, I wished I had my wolf beside me.“Where the hell are you?!” I called out in my mind, begging for her to return. “I need you, Ema!”I waited for a moment, hoping, but there was no response as usual. Of course she was still dormant. When I needed her the most, she was dormant, still throwing a tantrum over my relationship—or rather, lack thereof—with Logan.Logan, noticing the faraway look in my eyes, turned to face me with a puzzled expression in his gaze.“You sure you’re alright?” he asked.“For the millionth time,” I barked, maybe a little harsher than I intended, “I’m fine.”Logan fell silent, and so did I. I think we both knew it was a lie, but there was no way I could tell him about

Ella Two days after the engagement party, I found myself pacing the cobbled pathways of the downtown farmer’s market, a canvas bag slung over my shoulder. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a golden light over the market stands brimming with fresh produce, homemade jams, and fragrant bouquets of flowers. Today was the day. Logan was coming over for dinner, and my plan was to make him realize how good life could be in my modest apartment. I hated to say it, but it wasn’t necessarily out of the goodness of my heart. I couldn’t exactly tell Logan that I had to cut him off because his brother’s fiancee had hitmen trained on both me and my sister, so this felt like my only option. It was all part of the larger scheme to shift the family fortune to Harry, protect my sister, and give Marina what she wanted. I was just reaching for a head of cabbage when my hand brushed against someone else’s. I looked up, and my eyes met a familiar sight. It was Devon, the guy who I had mir