Alara
"Pack what you need," I told my sister as gently as I could. "Clothes. Essentials. Just… enough for now."
Maya blinked at me from across the bedroom, her oversized hoodie swallowed her shoulders. "Are we moving?"
"Temporarily."
"To where?"
I hesitated. "It's a nicer place. Somewhere… safer."
Her eyes narrowed with sixteen-year-old suspicion. "Alara, did you rob a bank?"
Percy, sprawled on the bed, snorted. "Worse. She bagged herself a billionaire."
"Percy," I hissed.
"What?" She sat up, twirling a strand of hair. "You're moving into a penthouse and you've got a black card. That man isn't just buying you dinner, babe—he's buying your zip code."
I ignored her and started folding Maya's clothes into a duffel. "It's temporary. That's all you need to know."
"Are we safe?" Maya asked, quieter now.
I paused and met her gaze. "Yes. I promise. I'd never take you somewhere unsafe."
She nodded. "Okay. But I'm bringing my poster of BTS. No rich guy's gonna stop that."
Percy cackled. "Iconic."
The black luxury car pulled up just after sunset, sleek and glinting beneath the orange hue of the streetlights. The driver stepped out in a charcoal suit and tipped his hat, opening the door without a word.
It felt surreal—like stepping into someone else's life. One I hadn't earned. One I didn't even recognize.
We rode in silence through the glowing heart of the city, past places I used to only see on magazine covers. When we reached the building—Wolfe Heights—it didn't just scream money. It whispered power.
A woman in a fitted gray suit with perfect posture waited outside the main entrance. Her name was Camille, and she barely blinked as she ushered us into a private elevator that required a fingerprint scan.
Of course it did.
"I've taken the liberty of preparing the residence," she said smoothly. "Mr. Wolfe prefers his guests to feel at home."
"Guests," I repeated under my breath.
The elevator opened to a floor that didn't look real. The penthouse was all sharp glass, moody lighting, and views that could stop your heart. The windows stretched from floor to ceiling, and the city glittered beneath like it bowed to this place.
Maya gasped. "Alara… is this heaven?"
"Feels like a movie set," Percy muttered, turning in a slow circle. "God, even the air smells expensive."
We barely had time to breathe it in before the doorbell chimed.
My stomach dropped.
Camille moved to open it and stepped aside.
And he walked in.
Ace Wolfe.
Dressed in black like he owned every shadow in the room.
His presence rearranged the air. Everything slowed. My sister straightened. Percy froze.
He didn't speak immediately. His eyes flicked over the space. Over us.
Then, he moved.
Graceful. Lethal.
Percy stepped forward, flashing her flirtiest smile. "Hi—"
He brushed past her like she was furniture.
Cold.
Calculated.
My mouth parted, stunned at the brush-off.
He stopped in front of Maya. Bent slightly. "You must be her sister."
Maya blinked. "You're… very handsome."
His lips twitched into a rare, fleeting smile. "Thank you."
Then, as if the moment hadn't happened, he turned to me.
Behind him stood two people I hadn't noticed before: a tall, muscular man with arms like tree trunks and a woman in her late thirties dressed in neat black.
"This is Donovan, your security detail," Ace said with smooth authority. "And Mariel, your housekeeper."
"They report to you?" I asked.
"No," he said. "They report to you."
There was a weight in that. A message beneath the message.
You're in this now. Own it.
He reached into his coat and handed me a slim black envelope. Your gala invitation "he says as he hands it over to me "
Gala?
Get ready we are having dinner outside tonight ".