Chapter 11

POV: Daniella

The apartment buzzed with soft music, warm lighting, and the scent of melting brie and toasted bread. The boys were already halfway through setting things up when I arrived with Nate.

Bob immediately offered me a beer, only for Ace to intercept with a wine glass. “No,” he said, “tonight is red. She came dressed for it.”

They argued in good humor—Bob dramatically insisting beer was “the drink of the people,” while Ace countered with a passionate monologue about tannins and body. Nate stayed quiet at first, leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping his drink with that half-smile like he was just happy to watch it all unfold.

I laughed more than I had in weeks.

Later, as we stood by the kitchen island, Bob leaned in close, holding a tiny plate of spring rolls and cheese cubes.

“You know,” he murmured, “you keep showing up looking like that, I’m gonna start a petition to burn that ‘no-dating-between-us’ rule.”

I raised a brow. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would absolutely light that thing on fire,” he grinned. “I’d piss on the ashes too.”

“Classy.”

“You knew that already, beautiful.”

There was a moment where his smile faded just a little, and he glanced down. “I liked bringing you lunch. I like knowing you’ll text me. Even if it’s just about tea.”

My chest fluttered. I touched his arm, gentle. “I liked it too.”

He winked, masking something softer behind it. “We’re all gonna fall for you, you know that, right?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

He walked away before I could try.

Nate joined me near the balcony window, where I had stepped for a breath. He offered me a slice of pear and a quiet smile.

“I like watching you laugh,” he said simply.

“That’s kind of a dangerous thing to say.”

“It’s true.”

We stood in silence for a beat, then I asked, “Is it weird that this all feels so easy? With you. With them.”

Nate looked at me, deep and quiet. “No. Not weird. Right.”

The way he said it made something inside me break and rebuild all at once.

Later still, I found Ace on the couch, swirling the wine in his glass like he was decoding the secrets of the universe.

I sat beside him. “You really pulled this night together, huh?”

He turned his head, his expression softening when he looked at me. “I wanted to give you something calm. You deserve that.”

I lowered my voice. “You’re leaving for the weekend, right?”

He nodded. “Bauer family weekend. Politics, power plays, tension you could cut with a steak knife.”

I hesitated, then whispered, “I’ll miss you.”

Ace’s throat worked. “You have no idea how much I’ll miss you.”

It hung there between us. Real. Unspoken. Charged.

Then Bob yelled from the kitchen, “I found more cheese!”

And the spell, gently, broke.

By midnight, the wine buzzed through my veins, my cheeks warm, laughter still echoing in my chest like the tail end of a perfect song.

“I should grab a cab,” I said, standing too fast and swaying just a little.

Nate was already shaking his head. “No way. It’s early. Tomorrow’s Saturday. Stay a bit longer.”

“Or stay the night,” Bob added, casual and reckless as ever. “I’ve decided. You’re not leaving.”

“I don’t think—” I started, but then I looked at them.

Three grown men, looking like sad-eyed puppies.

I narrowed my eyes. “This is emotional blackmail.”

“Is it working?” Bob smirked.

I opened my mouth, but Nate beat me to it. “Why not stay?”

And I froze.

Because I didn’t have a real answer.

Ace leaned forward, voice smooth as satin. “Why can’t we all stay? Couch night. I’ll make it comfortable.”

“You planned this?” I asked, laughing.

“Not before,” Ace said. “But I’m planning it now.”

“You guys are gonna ditch your perfect beds just to crash with me on the couch?”

“Without a second thought,” Bob said.

“For sure, baby girl,” Nate added, voice a warm hum in my spine.

“I was the mastermind,” Ace said, raising a brow. “Obviously, I’m staying.”

I shook my head, smiling. “But I don’t have pajamas—”

“We’ll loan you something,” Ace offered.

“You really are a problem-solver, huh?” I teased.

“I do this for a living,” he replied, all smooth arrogance.

“I call shirt duty!” Bob shouted from the kitchen.

“I’ve got boxers,” Nate said, already on his feet.

“And I’m giving you the hoodie,” Ace added, like it was the final move in a checkmate.

I took the bundle of borrowed clothes and headed to the bathroom, heart hammering against my ribs.

Was this happening?

It was.

And the wine softened the edges of doubt.

I slid the dress from my body and slipped into their pieces—Nate’s soft cotton boxers, Bob’s black oversized tee, and finally Ace’s hoodie, thick and warm and smelling like cedar and expensive cologne.

I looked in the mirror.

Ridiculous.

Happy.

Buzzing.

Alive.

“Y’all are out of your minds,” I called, stepping out.

“We’re just invested,” Nate replied from the couch.

The lights were low. A few candles still flickered in the corners.

They sprawled across the massive L-shaped couch, blankets tossed everywhere, limbs relaxed. I settled in the middle.

Bob wrapped himself around me from behind, one hand on my waist.

Nate laid beside me, his arm tucked under my head, steady and strong. My fingers stretched over his arm to where Ace sat near my feet, his hand sliding naturally into mine.

For a long beat, none of us spoke. Just breathing. Skin. Warmth.

My brain tried to say this is too much, this is complicated, this doesn’t make sense—

But I shut it off.

Because it felt good.

It felt right.

Wrapped in their arms, wine in my blood, laughter in my mouth, something dangerous and beautiful thrumming in my chest—

I let myself belong.

Just for tonight.

The morning light crept in, lazy and golden, warming my skin before I even opened my eyes.

I shifted, slowly realizing I was caged between bodies—Bob behind me, his arm heavy over my waist, and Nate in front of me, his chest warm against mine, my hand still curled around his forearm like I’d fallen asleep mid-hug.

A perfect, ridiculous tangle of limbs and breath.

And my body reacted to it. I breathed in deep, loving the weight, the closeness, the heat.

Bob’s breath stirred against the back of my neck, his fingertips flexing sleepily at my waist. Nate made a quiet sound in his throat—something between a sigh and a hum. I should’ve felt suffocated.

But I didn’t.

I felt safe. Held.

Almost whole.

Except—one of them was missing.

Ace.

It was like I needed to feel all three of them. Some part of me was searching for his presence, his steadiness, his calm.

Then I heard it—the soft sounds from the kitchen. Cabinet doors opening. The clink of mugs. The scrape of a spoon against ceramic.

He was up.

Of course he was.

I slipped out from between the boys as carefully as I could, ignoring the sleepy protests that came immediately.

“Mmh… where are you going?” Nate mumbled, eyes barely open.

“Don’t move,” Bob groaned, voice muffled. “He always wakes up first. Makes breakfast like a golden retriever in designer clothes.”

I stifled a laugh and padded toward the kitchen, following the scent of coffee and something warm and buttery.

I was still in the clothes they’d given me—Nate’s boxers, Bob’s T-shirt, and Ace’s hoodie. Like I was wrapped in all three of them at once.

And then I saw him.

Barefoot, in dark sweatpants, shirtless.

Muscles carved and sharp under smooth skin, the kind of body that made your brain stop working for a second. His hair was a mess of waves, like he’d just rolled out of bed—except I knew better. Everything about him looked effortlessly in control.

He was whisking eggs like he belonged in a Michelin-starred kitchen. A pot of coffee brewed behind him, and the toaster popped obediently. Even appliances respected Ace Bauer.

I hopped onto the counter, legs dangling. “You’re a menace. Do you ever sleep in?”

He looked up—and his whole face softened when he saw me. “Good morning, trouble.”

“You once called me Princess.”

“Princess Trouble, then?”

I chuckled, cheeks already warming.

“I could get used to seeing you in my hoodie,” he added, voice low.

My breath caught. Heat rushed to my face.

“You’re making breakfast?” I asked, reaching for calm and failing.

“Someone’s gotta feed your fan club. And I’ve gotta leave soon, so I figured I’d earn some points before disappearing.”

“The weekend with the Bauers?”

He grimaced like he’d bitten into a lemon. “Exactly. My dad wants a ‘bonding weekend.’ Or an interrogation disguised as brunch. Jury’s still out.”

“Oof. That bad?”

“You ever been cross-examined about your entire life while cutting into a poached egg? No? Lucky you.” He smirked without looking up.

“Want me to fake a medical emergency? I’m really convincing.”

“I appreciate the criminal conspiracy energy this early in the morning.”

“It’s love,” I said, stealing a piece of toast from the rack.

He glanced over his shoulder—and for a moment, all the teasing faded from his face.

“I’ll miss you this weekend,” he said, quietly.

Chapter 12

POV: Daniella

I blinked. Ace was always so composed, so sure. I forgot he could be sincere too.

“You just saw me all night.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I won’t still want more.”

My breath caught again. God, he knew exactly how to say things that made my chest ache.

The kitchen felt warmer. Or maybe that was just me.

“I already told you, I’ll be just a message away.”

“I know.” His eyes met mine. “And that helps more than I can say.”

I slid off the counter and padded toward him. “Need help?”

“You can stir the eggs. But if you burn the toast, I’ll ban you from my kitchen.”

“Bossy,” I muttered, bumping him with my hip as I grabbed the spatula.

“You like it.”

I didn’t argue.

Because he was right.

And as I stood shoulder to shoulder with Ace Bauer, barefoot, wearing pieces of all three of them, I let myself pretend—for just a second—that this could be something real.

That maybe this wasn’t ridiculous at all.

The kitchen had started to smell like heaven—eggs sizzling in the pan, fresh toast, the sharp notes of coffee swirling in the air. I stood next to Ace barefoot and content, moving around in his oversized hoodie and the ridiculous, perfect mismatched pajama combo they’d lent me.

“I can chop something,” I offered, and Ace handed me an onion with a smirk and a very sharp knife.

“Prove your worth, woman.”

“Bossy,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes. “You’re lucky I like you.”

I peeled the onion, laughing when my eyes started watering. “Why does something so small hurt so much?”

Ace said nothing, just gave me a sideways glance as he stirred the eggs, but the air between us was easy, flowing. Familiar.

It got hot.

Too much stove, too much warmth, too much Ace. I shrugged off the hoodie without thinking, tossing it on the stool behind me. I stood there in Bob’s black tee and Nate’s boxers, sleeves rolled up as I worked.

And then I felt it.

A shift.

Ace had gone still.

When I glanced up, his eyes weren’t on the eggs anymore. They were on me—on my arms.

My stomach dipped.

I knew what he’d seen before I even looked. The soft pink scars on the inside of my forearm, too faint to notice unless you were close. Too many mornings spent trying to cover them up. Too many nights spent wishing they didn’t exist.

Shit.

I cleared my throat and turned slightly, reaching for the salt, anything to fill the space.

“They’re old,” I said, trying for casual. “Barely there now.”

But Ace didn’t move. He didn’t speak. Just reached out with one hand and took my wrist, so gently I nearly lost my balance.

“He did it?”

I couldn’t answer, I just nodded with my throat tight.

His fingers brushed over my skin, slow and reverent, like he was reading a language written in raised flesh.

I tried to pull back, just a little, just to spare myself the heaviness.

But he wouldn’t let me.

Instead, he brought my arm to his mouth and pressed his lips against one of the scars. A feather-light kiss. Nothing lustful. Just warmth. Just silence. Just… care.

I froze.

Every muscle in my body stilled. My breath hitched so sharply it nearly hurt. The world shrank to the feel of his lips on my skin and his eyes on mine—blue, fierce, devastating.

I didn’t feel broken in that moment.

I felt seen.

I felt… safe.

His mouth hovered a second longer, and then he spoke against my skin.

“I hate that someone did this to you.”

I swallowed, blinking fast, the edges of my vision blurring—not from onions anymore.

“I’m okay now,” I whispered.

“You shouldn’t have had to be.”

The words cracked something open in me. My chest. My ribs. Something deep and aching that I’d buried.

Ace leaned closer, his hand still around my wrist, his other now ghosting up my spine. “You’re not alone here. Not anymore.”

I nodded, lips parting slightly.

And we were leaning in—drawn by something slow and magnetic, his breath brushing my face, my heart pounding so hard I could barely think—

“Holy hell, that smells good,” Bob’s voice yawned from the living room.

A beat.

Then Nate: “Who do I need to kiss for coffee?”

I blinked hard, the spell breaking, and Ace let go of my arm slowly, with a soft, almost apologetic smile. I backed up a step, wiping my cheeks quickly as Bob shuffled in, hair messy and eyes half-shut, throwing himself into a chair.

Nate followed, still shirtless, grinning when he saw me by the stove.

“Now that’s a breakfast view,” he teased.

I smiled, still rattled, but grateful. Grateful for them. Grateful for this morning.

We all gathered around the little kitchen table like we’d done it a hundred times. Ace poured coffee, Nate stacked pancakes onto plates, Bob handed me a fork with a wink.

And we laughed.

We laughed.

It was messy and loud and warm, and it felt like healing.

Later, Ace slipped into the hallway to shower. He emerged ten minutes later, clean-shaven and dressed in his sleek weekend clothes, dark bag over his shoulder.

He kissed the top of my head as he passed, fingers brushing the hoodie still on the stool.

“Don’t forget to miss me,” he murmured against my hair.

“I already do,” I replied, too softly for the others to hear.

He smiled. And then he was gone.

And I was left in the kitchen, heart still trembling, skin still burning with the ghost of his kiss.

The breakfast dishes were mostly cleared. Bob had wandered off to take a shower, muttering something about smelling like toast. Ace was already gone. And for a moment, it was just me and Nate—sitting in the lingering warmth of coffee and laughter.

He was sprawled out in one of the chairs, hair still wild, coffee mug half-full in his hand, his gaze drifting over me like he was trying to memorize the quiet.

I pulled my knees to my chest, still in their borrowed clothes, and sipped what was left of my own cup.

“I got a message this morning,” I said, glancing at him. “That patient we’ve been working on together? The one post-op? Jordan.”

“Yeah, what about him?” Nate straightened a little.

“He scheduled a physio appointment with me again. Said he asked specifically for me because of how I handled him.”

Nate’s mouth tilted into a soft smile. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

I looked at him. “It surprised me.”

“Dan…” He set his mug down, leaned forward. “You’re incredible at what you do. You make people feel seen. Safe. That’s rare, especially in hospitals.”

I looked down at my fingers. “Sometimes I think I’m just… trying not to fuck things up.”

“You’re not,” he said firmly. “You’re doing more than most of us are capable of. You just don’t see it yet.”

There was a beat. His voice dipped, earnest and a little nervous. “I know you just got in this job, but… I know people. I could help get you a position at the hospital. Something on your terms.”

My heart swelled and ached at the same time.

“You’d do that?” I asked softly.

Nate’s gaze was steady. “I’d do anything to help you succeed.”

Something in me cracked wide open.

The thing with Nate was that he never said too much, never pushed—but when he looked at you like this, it felt like the world held still.

“That means more than I can say,” I whispered.

“I meant every word.”

Silence, thick and full of things we weren’t saying. Then I smiled, trying to lighten the mood before I drowned in it. “You’re always trying to save people.”

“Part of the job description.”

“But it’s not just a job for you.”

“No,” he said, almost to himself. “It never has been.”

He looked at me for a long moment. “I wish I could stay with you today.”

My breath caught. “Yeah?”

“I’ve got a shift this morning. They’re short-staffed.” He gave me a rueful look. “You’re not the only one people want more of.”

I laughed softly, but something tugged deep in my chest.

“I’ll be okay,” I said. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you.”

There it was again—that open, honest thing that Nate did. He didn’t know how to be anything but genuine.

I leaned forward, resting my chin on my knees. “You’re kind of dangerous, you know.”

“Me?”

“You’re sweet. Thoughtful. You make a girl want to fall.”

He smiled, slow and devastating. “Then fall, baby girl.”

Chapter 13

POV: Daniella

I didn’t have time to respond. Not with the way my breath caught and my heart jumped.

Bob’s voice echoed from the bathroom. “Whose turn for hot water?”

Nate stood, his hand grazing my shoulder as he passed. “I’ll grab a quick shower before I head out.”

I nodded, watching him walk away, pulse still racing.

And for a second—just a second—I wanted to reach for him, to say stay.

But I didn’t.

I just watched him go, knowing something big was coming.

And not knowing at all how hard it would hit.

The kitchen had quieted, warm with the scent of coffee and toast, the morning light spilling lazily across the countertops. I leaned against the sink, watching the last wisps of steam rise from the mugs.

Bob padded in barefoot, hair still damp from his shower, wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a fitted shirt that looked like it was doing its best to contain all of him. His eyes found me instantly, soft and a little too honest.

He crossed the room slowly, like gravity pulled him to me. Then, without a word, he kissed me.

It was sweet at first—like he was just checking if I was still his. His lips brushed mine, slow and careful, and I leaned into it, breathing him in. But then something shifted. His hand slid to the small of my back, and his body pressed closer.

He pulled away, just barely, his forehead resting against mine.

“I can’t wait for Nate to leave,” he whispered, voice thick with honesty.

I blinked up at him, caught in the warm brown of his eyes. “Bob—”

He gave a lopsided smile. “Not in a jealous way. I just… want a moment with you. Just us.”

I exhaled, my hands curling in the soft fabric of his shirt. “You had a moment. You literally slept together last night—”

“Correction,” he said, cocking a brow. “I had you on my couch. In borrowed clothes. With two other guys. It was great. But… not ours. Not the kind of slpet together I like.”

Something in my chest squeezed tight.

He kissed me again, this time a little longer, a little deeper, like he was trying to fill in all the cracks I didn’t know were showing.

“When I was in the shower,” he murmured, lips brushing against mine, “I realized how quiet it is without you. I don’t want that kind of quiet again.”

My breath hitched. “Bob…”

His smile turned teasing. “You’re so much better than anything I’ve ever had. It’s kind of unfair.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. Nate appeared, bag over his shoulder, hair still damp, keys twirling in his fingers.

“Hey,” he said, voice soft as he glanced between us. “I’m heading out.”

I stepped back from Bob instinctively, smoothing my hair, guilt pricking hot under my skin—even though there was nothing wrong with this. Not really.

“Be safe, okay?” I said, walking over to Nate.

He leaned down, kissed my cheek gently. “Text me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

His eyes lingered on mine, something quiet and unreadable behind them. Then he gave Bob a nod and disappeared out the door.

The silence after it closed was deafening.

Before I could say anything, Bob grabbed my waist, lifted me easily, and set me on the kitchen counter.

“Bob—”

He stepped between my legs, cupping my jaw, and kissed me like he needed it—slow and deep and aching. I moaned into his mouth before I could stop myself, fingers curling into his shirt. My thighs tightened around his hips. The heat between us burned slow and molten.

When he pulled back, his voice was a rasp. “You make me insane.”

I smiled against his lips, breathless. “Good. I like you unhinged.”

His forehead touched mine. “Then don’t disappear. Not even a little.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered.

But deep inside, a storm was already brewing.

And none of us had any idea what was coming next.

Bob was between my legs, his body pressed to mine, and I could feel how hard he was. My thighs wrapped instinctively around his hips, locking us in place, my body already soaked, reacting to him in a way I couldn’t explain. Couldn’t control.

Sitting up on the kitchen counter put us eye-level. Bob was tall—broad—and all that energy he carried, all that wild heat, was focused entirely on me.

I slipped my arms around his neck, and when his mouth found mine again, I swore the world vanished. Just heat. Just tension. Just the electric snap of his lips devouring mine like he was starving.

It had started with lust and anger and tension, but this—this kiss—was something else. There was weight to it. Emotion, messy and sharp, tangled in every brush of his lips. My heart beat so hard I could barely breathe through it.

His hands clutched at my waist like he was afraid I’d vanish. Like he didn’t want to let go. His tongue slid into my mouth, and I whimpered into him, feeling my whole body tighten with the pressure. He kissed down my jaw, to the curve of my neck, my collarbone. His lips were velvet and his hands were fire and I arched into him, desperate for more.

Then—

The front door clicked open again.

The air sucked from my lungs before I could even turn.

“I forgot my lab coat,” came Nate’s voice. Playful. Warm. Unaware. “Probably your presence, baby girl, made me lose my damn mind.”

My heart collapsed.

Bob’s body jerked like he wanted to pull away—but it was already too late.

Nate froze in the doorway. Bag in one hand, keys in the other. His gaze locked on us. His mouth parted, eyes wide—shattered. And everything inside me broke with him.

He dropped his bag. Keys clattered to the floor.

“What the hell?” His voice was small, hoarse. Cracked.

Chapter 14

POV: Daniella

I pushed lightly at Bob, trying to leap from the counter. “Nate—”

He took a step back. Like the distance could help. Like he needed air and couldn’t find it.

“You two are doing this?” he asked, voice trembling.

“Nate, we were all flirting with her,” Bob said, tone uneven. “What did you think would happen? I didn’t sign that stupid rule.”

“Stay out of this,” Nate snapped, sharp and raw, his eyes never leaving mine. “You were the one who made the rule.”

“Nate,” I whispered, my throat too tight to breathe through. “Please… just—look at me.”

He did. And it hurt.

His warm, golden-brown eyes were drowning in betrayal. The kind of betrayal I wanted to deny, but I couldn’t. Because I knew I had hurt him. And that knowledge tore something inside me wide open.

“I thought you were different,” he said, voice cracking like glass under pressure. “I was falling for you, Dani. I was falling. And you—” A broken laugh slipped out of him, bitter and raw. “You let me fall while you were kissing him?”

His words were blades. And I felt each one slice deep into my chest. Because deep down, I knew. I knew I was doing something wrong, and still—I let it happen. I let my body betray me. I let my heart outrun my reason. I was falling for three men at once while kissing one and sleeping with another.

And it wasn’t fair.

But it was true.

I stepped closer. He didn’t back away this time. My fingers, trembling, reached his face, brushing his cheek. His skin was warm, and I felt the way he reacted to my touch—the way he still wanted me even in his heartbreak.

“I like you,” I said, voice broken and small. “I like you more than I should. More than I’ve ever felt this fast… for anyone.”

His chest rose sharply. His eyes searched mine like he was looking for a reason not to fall apart.

“I like you too,” he breathed.

And something shattered inside me. Something opened. My lungs filled like I’d been underwater and finally came up for air.

Then—I moved without thinking. My hand cupped his cheek, and I pulled him down to me. Our lips crashed together like the world was ending. Like I needed this kiss to survive.

For a moment, he didn’t move. He just felt it. The desperation. The ache. The truth.

Then—

Nate kissed me back like he was unraveling. Like the only way to stop from falling apart was to fall into me instead. His lips were rough, frantic, full of emotion he couldn’t name. It wasn’t sweet.

It was raw. Visceral. Real.

His arms locked around me, crushing me against him like he couldn’t bear the thought of space between us. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. His tongue swept into my mouth with a kind of urgency that made my knees buckle. And I kissed him back with everything I had.

Like it was the last time.

Because maybe… it was.

And it felt right. Our bodies fit like puzzle pieces. Like we were built to find each other in chaos.

When the kiss broke, our foreheads rested together, breaths ragged and hearts racing. He looked at me, eyes so full of pain I thought I’d drown in them.

“I like you,” I whispered again. “But I like him too.”

Behind me, I felt Bob’s presence—so close. I didn’t have to look to know his heart was pounding just like mine. His hand brushed the small of my back, grounding me. I turned slightly, my fingers lifting to his cheek, thumb grazing his stubble.

“I can’t explain this,” I said, voice shaking. “I tried to choose… I tried. But I can’t. I’ve never felt anything even close to this before. I like all of you. I feel safe with you. Cared for. Loved in a way that doesn’t make sense.”

My eyes flicked between them. “It’s like I can’t breathe. Like I need both of you.”

One of my hands was still on Nate. The other, now on Bob. Their eyes—hazel and brown—haunted me. And when I leaned toward Bob, it was like time slowed. Like one wrong move would shatter the spell.

And then—I kissed him.

Soft. Slow. A kiss laced with apology and longing. With questions we didn’t know how to ask. Bob exhaled into it like he’d been holding his breath. Like he needed it just as much as I did. Like he didn’t understand any of this—but he feltit.

“I like you so much,” Nate said behind me, voice low and broken.

His lips brushed my neck, and my whole body trembled. I was being touched by both of them, held by both of them, wanted by both of them—and I couldn’t name what we were doing, what it meant.

But it was real.

It was fire and gravity and madness.

It was connection. It was pull.

And somehow, I was caught between them—my body tangled in theirs, my soul too full to make sense of anything.

I was falling.

For both of them.

And I didn’t know how to stop.

Or if I even wanted to.

I felt Nate’s lips on my neck while my mouth moved hungrily against Bob’s. My head was spinning, my body pulled taut between the two of them—one in front, one behind. Bob’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of my—his—shirt, brushing my bare skin, sending a wave of shivers up my spine. My body arched instinctively, every nerve alight.

Behind me, Nate’s hands gripped my ass, grounding me, claiming me. Bob broke the kiss only long enough to tug the shirt over my head, exposing me completely to them. I could feel their gazes like heat against my skin.

“Gods, baby girl,” Nate murmured, his voice thick and reverent. “You are just… fucking perfect.”

His lips crashed into mine again, kissing me like he was drinking me in, like he was desperate and starving. His hands roamed my body with purpose, while Bob pressed against my back, his hard cock grinding into my ass, his breath warm in my ear.

I was surrounded. Consumed. Caught between fire and lightning.

Nate’s kiss trailed downward, slow and worshipful, while Bob’s lips pressed against the curve of my neck, his teeth nipping at my skin. His hands cupped my breasts from behind, thumbs brushing over my nipples, and I gasped.

Nate reached my chest, and his lips closed around one nipple, gentle at first—a featherlight tease that made me cry out. Bob’s hand tightened on my waist, like he was holding me together as my body started to unravel.

Then Nate’s mouth moved to the other nipple, sucking softly, while Bob pressed kisses down my shoulder, grounding me, stoking the fire.

And then—Nate dropped to his knees in front of me.

His fingers curled in the waistband of my boxers. He looked up at me, his brown eyes molten and hungry.

“I loved seeing you in these,” he whispered, “but I’ll love even more seeing you without them.”

My breath caught.

Slowly, he peeled the boxers down my legs, his fingers grazing every inch of skin as he revealed me. I stood there, completely bare, exposed under their gazes, heart hammering, skin flushed.

Nate’s eyes devoured me. And without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my belly—then lower.

Lower.

Until his lips brushed against my clit.

My hips bucked instinctively. A moan broke from my lips, loud and raw.

“Fuck, that sound,” Nate said, voice gravel and worship. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

“She’s perfect,” Bob murmured, his mouth hot on my neck. “Even when she moans.”

They were talking about me—about how I felt, how I tasted, how I sounded—while I stood there between them, trembling. And it made it even hotter.

Nate gently guided my legs apart, making space for himself. Then his mouth was on me.

His tongue licked a slow line through my folds, savoring, exploring. He groaned like I was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

And then—he sucked my clit. Hard.

My back arched. My head fell against Bob’s shoulder.

“Fuck—Nate—”

Bob’s hands were on my breasts again, teasing and pinching my nipples as Nate’s mouth worked me. The contrast was too much. Bob’s roughness, Nate’s slow precision. The way their bodies pinned me in place and made me theirs.

“I won’t last,” I gasped. “God—I can’t—”

Nate’s lips curved against me. “Good,” he said, voice muffled and low. “Come for me, baby. In my mouth.”

And he sucked harder. His tongue moved in wicked circles, and then flicked rapidly over my clit.

Bob bit down gently on my shoulder, his voice in my ear. “Let go. Let us take care of you.”

The pleasure built in waves. My body locked up, trembling. And then it broke.

I cried out, hips bucking against Nate’s mouth, pleasure crashing over me like a tidal wave.

Nate groaned against my core, licking every drop of me, drawing it out until I was shaking.

Bob whispered in my ear, his voice rough and reverent. “Just like that, beautiful. You’re fucking incredible.”

Bob’s hands were still on my waist as Nate kissed his way up from between my legs, licking my release from his lips like a man who’d just tasted divinity. My breath came in shallow gasps. My thighs trembled. I was held between them—Nate in front of me, Bob behind—my body a livewire stretched between two magnets.

Nate’s lips met mine again, this time sticky with the taste of me, and I kissed him back like I needed to consume him. Bob’s voice growled low in my ear, “Bedroom. Now.”

Chapter 15

POV: Daniella

I didn’t even have time to breathe before Bob scooped me into his arms, bridal style, and carried me out of the kitchen like I weighed nothing. Nate followed close behind, his hands already tugging at his shirt, exposing that golden skin, his toned chest.

Bob placed me gently on the bed while Nate was peeling his clothes off, and I didn’t get the chance to move—because Nate climbed onto the mattress, crawling toward me like a panther with hungry eyes.

“You sure you’re ready for this, baby girl?” Bob asked, voice gravel and heat, tugging his pants down with lazy, deliberate movements that made my core clench all over again.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I whispered. And I meant it. I wanted them both—right now. Right here. I didn’t know how to explain it, I just needed them.

Nate was the first to touch me again—his hands running down my thighs, spreading me open, while Bob knelt behind me, kissing the back of my neck, then my shoulders, while his hands brushed the sides of my breasts. My whole body trembled.

“She’s shaking,” Nate murmured. “God, Danny… you look like sin.”

Bob leaned down, his chest against my back. “She’s more than that. She’s ours.”

Ours.

The word did something to me. I moaned at just the sound of it.

Bob laid back and tugged me on top of him, his cock hard and thick between us. “Ride me, sweetheart,” he said. “I want to watch your face when I’m buried inside you.”

Nate’s breath caught. “Fuck. Yeah. Let me—” His voice was cut off as he grabbed the lube from the nightstand. “I want to feel her clench while she’s full.”

My lips parted. I looked at them both. “You want to… at the same time?”

Nate nodded, eyes dark, pupils blown wide. “If you’re okay with it. We’ll go slow. You tell us to stop, we stop.”

“Please,” I whispered. “I want to feel both of you.”

Bob kissed me hard. “That’s our girl.”

He held my hips as I lowered myself onto his cock, inch by inch. I moaned loud—he stretched me open in the way only he could. Bob cursed under his breath, grip tightening as I bottomed out.

“Fucking hell, you feel like heaven,” he groaned.

Then Nate moved behind me, kneeling between Bob’s legs, fingers gentle as they brushed over my ass, then lower. He leaned close, lips brushing my shoulder. “I’m going slow, okay?”

I nodded, barely able to breathe. One of Nate’s hands held my waist while the other gently teased me open, lubed fingers working me slowly, carefully, until I was gasping, rolling my hips helplessly on Bob’s cock.

When I finally felt the tip of Nate’s cock press against my ass, I exhaled a moan that came from somewhere too deep for words.

They both moved so slowly at first—giving me time, giving me space, but the moment Nate slid inside, my world fractured. I felt a hint of pain first, but he was so gentle, and that felt so fucking good. In seconds was just pleasure, higher then I ever felt.

“Fuck, fuck, beautiful, you’re so tight,” Bob hissed.

“You’re incredible,” Nate groaned. “Fucking perfect, baby girl. Made for this.”

My nails clawed into Bob’s chest as I felt both of them inside me—filling me completely. I was trembling, whimpering, caught between two bodies, two cocks, two men I wanted with everything in me.

And then they moved.

Slow at first, their rhythm matching, syncing like they were made for this. Nate kissed my back, my shoulder, my neck. Bob kissed my lips, my breasts, whispering dirty, tender things in my ear.

“Look at you… our perfect girl.”

“So good for us. So fucking good.”

“You take us like you were born for it.”

Pleasure burned through me like wildfire. I was drenched, trembling, gone. Nate’s hands caressed my stomach while Bob gripped my thighs, guiding me in the perfect rhythm as they took me.

Their moans mixed with mine. Sweat slicked our skin. Everything blurred—heat, sound, movement.

I came with a cry that ripped from my throat, and neither of them stopped—fucking me through it, riding my waves, whispering how beautiful I looked, how they could feel me pulsing around them.

Nate came first—his shout rough, raw, as he collapsed against my back, shaking, teeth nipping my shoulder.

Bob wasn’t far behind. “Fuck, baby, fuck—” His hips slammed up, and I felt his release inside me as he clutched me to him like I was salvation.

When we finally stilled, we were a mess of tangled limbs, bodies slick with sweat and sex and something far more dangerous—feeling.

I collapsed between them, cradled in warmth and muscle and quiet breaths.

No one spoke for a moment.

Then Nate’s fingers brushed my hair back. “What the hell are you doing to me, Dani?”

My eyes fluttered shut, heart thudding. “I don’t know. But I don’t want it to stop.”

Bob kissed my temple. “Then don’t. We’re right here.”

I was nestled between them, boneless and wrecked in the best possible way, the sheets tangled around our sweat-slick bodies. Nate’s fingers traced lazy circles on my lower back, while Bob played with a strand of my hair like he couldn’t stop touching me even now.

Silence stretched for a long moment, comfortable and warm—until I spoke, voice quiet, hesitant.

“I’ve never done that before,” I murmured.

Bob’s hand stilled.

Nate propped himself on an elbow, brows drawn. “What?”

I glanced at both of them. “What we did. With both of you. I mean… the, um… the anal part.”

Nate blinked. Then grinned. “That was your first time?”

I nodded, a flush creeping up my neck.

Bob looked at me with something between reverence and hunger. “And you still let us…?”

“I wanted to,” I whispered. “It was intense. A little overwhelming. But I liked it. A lot.”

Nate leaned in and kissed me softly, reverently. “You’re amazing, Dani.”

“She really is,” Bob agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “God, you were perfect.”

I smiled shyly, lips brushing against Nate’s shoulder. “A little sore now. But no regrets.”

They both chuckled, and I basked in it for a beat longer before glancing at the bedside clock.

“Oh shit. Nate… aren’t you late?”

Nate looked over his shoulder and cursed. “Fuck. Yes. I have a meeting in twenty minutes.”

Bob groaned. “Same. I’ve got a client waiting in less than an hour.”

We scrambled in a chaotic mess of limbs, grabbing clothes and half-laughing, half-moaning as we winced at the sore spots we didn’t even know we had.

Nate was hopping on one leg, tugging on his pants. “I swear I’d call in sick if I could spend the day just… devouring her.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Bob muttered, buttoning his shirt while eyeing me like I was still the dessert he hadn’t finished.

I was pulling on my bra when I said, “I’d love to do this again.”

Nate and Bob glanced at each other. Bob was the first to smirk and nod. Nate followed, his eyes never leaving mine.

“So… what about dinner tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Bob said. “Here. The three of us.”

“You sure?” I asked, heart in my throat.

Bob stepped closer, his fingers gently cupping my jaw. “We’re sure, beautiful.”

Nate leaned in, kissing my shoulder as he passed. “We’re doing this, baby girl.”

And just like that—something clicked. It was no longer a dream or a moment they’d pretend never happened.

It was real.

Nate kissed me goodbye, slow and tender, full of promises. “I can’t wait until tonight.”

And I couldn’t either.

Bob drove me home. The goodbye kiss was slow and lingering, and I could still feel Nate’s bite on my neck like a brand.

I was counting the seconds until I could be with them again.

But when I got inside, something tugged at me.

A newspaper was sitting on my kitchen table.

I stared at it for a long second, trying to remember when I’d picked it up. But I hadn’t. I never bought the paper. I told myself it was just the boys. Or maybe I’d grabbed it on autopilot on my way in yesterday, too distracted by… well, them.

But the thought didn’t sit right.

I shook it off.

Then my phone buzzed.

Ace.

“Missing you. This restaurant’s too good not to share. Pistachio and white chocolate mousse. You’d love it.”

He’d sent a picture of the dessert. Beautifully plated. Elegant. And beside it, a blurry glimpse of an older man—his father, maybe.

Then another message.

“I’m imagining you sitting across from me. Just to stay sane.”

My chest ached.

Guilt twisted hot in my gut.

I was still sore from being stretched between two men I was undeniably falling for—and yet here I was, aching for Ace too. His quiet steadiness. His warmth. His mind.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I wanted all of them.

And I was terrified that meant I was going to lose them all.

Chapter 16

POV: Daniella

I stared at it too long. I typed:

Me: You’re sweet. Save me a bite?

Then deleted it.

Instead, I wrote:

Me: Looks delicious. Hope the lunch isn’t too painful.

Sent.

I tossed the phone onto the couch, but it didn’t stop the guilt from simmering low in my chest. I wanted Ace too. His calm, his quiet charm. His intensity behind those careful eyes. And this morning I was… tangled up in Nate and Bob’s sheets, moaning their names.

But I didn’t have time to spiral.

I spend the whole day tryng to not freak out.

A ping from my phone made my heart lurch.

Bob (in the group chat):

Leaving in 10 to pick you up. Hope you’re hungry.

Ace:

You guys taking care of her?

I held my breath.

Nate:

Good care.

My cheeks burned. My stomach twisted with guilt and need.

God, I was in trouble.

I put on a great dress and some makeup. This was a date, right?

Bob picked me up, and when I stepped into the apartment, my breath caught.

The lights were dim. Candles glowed on the table. The soft sound of music played from the speaker. The table was set, a warm scent in the air—some kind of Thai dish with lots of garlic and spice. And wine. There were two bottles, already uncorked, and a six-pack of craft beer chilling in an ice bucket.

They’d prepared this. For me.

“You guys cooked?” I asked, stunned.

Bob grinned. “No, we ordered. But we plated it like we did.”

Nate handed me a glass of wine. “We’re not total savages.”

“Only in bed,” Bob whispered against my ear.

My whole body flushed.

They guided me to the table like I was royalty. Nate pulled out my chair. Bob refilled my wine. They didn’t stop looking at me—not for a second. And the tension between us curled like heat rising from a flame.

Dinner was amazing. The flavors danced on my tongue, but it wasn’t just the food—it was them. The way Nate’s thigh brushed mine under the table. The way Bob’s fingers played lazily with the strands of my hair. The stolen glances. The teasing smiles.

“You know,” Nate said casually as I moaned at the spice of the noodles, “that sound is going to haunt me all night.”

“Oh yeah,” Bob added, smirking. “She moans for noodles. What do we have to do to get the same reaction?”

“Pretty sure you already got it. Multiple times,” I teased, sipping my wine.

Nate leaned in, his voice low and full of promise. “Doesn’t mean we’re done chasing it.”

Bob’s hand slid beneath the table, resting on my knee. His thumb stroked soft circles up my thigh.

Conversation slowed. Heat bloomed.

I shifted in my seat, breathing just a little faster. Nate leaned closer, brushing his knuckles down my arm. Bob’s hand was inching higher now, the pad of his thumb pressing just beneath the hem of my dress.

“Fuck, you’re warm,” he whispered, so close to my ear it sent a shiver down my spine.

I bit my lip.

Nate reached over, his fingers tipping my chin so I looked at him. “You okay, baby girl?”

“Yeah,” I breathed. “More than okay.”

“Good,” Bob said. “Because dessert’s next.”

And I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about anything that came from a restaurant.

I helped them clear the table, sliding plates into the dishwasher, fingers still trembling from all the stolen touches and promises. But when I turned around, I froze.

They were both watching me.

Bob leaned casually against the counter, wearing nothing but a fitted, stretched-out t-shirt and sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Effortlessly hot. Like sin in soft cotton.

And Nate—God—he stood by the island in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, top buttons undone. Polished and composed, but his eyes? They burned.

He was every fantasy I’d ever had about professors with secrets.

My body pulsed just from the sight of them. Desire curled inside me, greedy and bold.

I walked toward them slowly, deliberately, like a cat testing its prey. My fingers skimmed across Nate’s chest, teasing along the line of buttons—then drifted to Bob’s abs, tracing the firm muscle beneath the cotton.

Then I bolted.

Their laughter followed me—deep and playful—until I felt strong arms scoop me up from behind.

Bob.

He threw me onto the couch like I weighed nothing, and I laughed so hard I nearly cried. Then their weight was on me—Nate kneeling behind, Bob over me, the two of them surrounding me like predators with a single prey.

I kissed Bob first, pulling him to me by the collar of his shirt. His mouth was hot, hungry, his tongue brushing mine with greedy promise.

Behind me, Nate’s hands slid over my hips, then down to cup my ass.

“This ass should be illegal,” he muttered, and in the next second, I was being lifted, pulled back against him, his hard cock pressing against me through the fabric.

I moaned softly as Bob gathered the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. I wasn’t wearing much beneath—just a bra and matching panties. Nate unclasped my bra and kissed my spine while Bob knelt at my feet.

He took his time.

He kissed my ankle first. Then the inside of my calf. My knee. Up, up—until his mouth hovered over my core. He looked up at me with pure worship before dragging my panties down and kissing the crease of my thigh.

Nate’s hands slid up my ribs, grazing the undersides of my breasts. His touch left goosebumps in its wake, soft and reverent, as if he were memorizing every inch of me.

Bob’s mouth finally landed on my clit, and I cried out—sharp, high, and helpless.

Nate kissed my neck, his breath hot against my skin. He laced his fingers with mine and held me steady as I writhed, my body no longer under my control.

Then Bob slid a finger inside me—deep, slow, curling just right.

“Oh God—”

“She’s so fucking tight,” Bob groaned against me, his mouth returning to my clit while his finger moved inside me, expertly dragging me higher.

“I need to feel her,” Nate said, voice rough, nearly feral.

“She’s ready for you,” Bob murmured before sucking me again, and I shattered—my whole body convulsing, back arching, breath stolen. I came hard, crying out, unable to hold back, drowning in them.

I was still shaking when I turned and positioned myself on all fours, chest heaving, hair falling in wild waves over my face.

“You’re not seriously—?” Nate’s voice cracked, already breathless as he stripped.

“Fuck me, Nate,” I whispered, looking back at him. “Now.”

He knelt behind me and ran his hands up my thighs before sliding inside in one deep, slow thrust. I gasped at the stretch, the fullness, the perfect pressure.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re right—she’s perfect. So fucking tight.”

He stayed still for a moment, hands gripping my hips, his breath ragged. I started to move first, meeting his thrusts, my rhythm desperate and hungry.

Bob stepped in front of me, sweatpants already gone, his cock thick and hard, waiting for me.

I took him into my mouth without hesitation.

Both of them groaned—deep, raw, filthy sounds of pleasure that made my pulse race faster.

Nate’s thrusts grew sharper, and his hand reached around to rub my clit, circling in time with my mouth on Bob.

“Fuck, Dani,” Bob groaned, fingers curling in my hair as I sucked him deeper.

I could feel them both unraveling—Nate’s grip tightening, Bob’s hips jerking forward as I flicked my tongue around his head.

Bob came first, with a loud, guttural moan, spilling into my mouth as his body shuddered. I swallowed every drop, the taste of him dizzying.

That was enough to push me over the edge again. I clenched around Nate with a cry, my body pulsing in aftershocks, and that was it—he came with a sharp growl, his hips jerking as he emptied himself inside me.

We collapsed into a tangled heap on the couch, breathless and wrecked, laughing softly between kisses and sweat-slick skin.

My head rested on Nate’s shoulder. Bob’s hand lazily stroked my thigh.

I didn’t know what time it was. I didn’t care.

All I knew was that I was the happiest, most thoroughly ruined woman alive.

Sunlight crept through the slats of the blinds, soft and golden, casting long stripes over the living room.

I woke tangled between them, limbs knotted and skin sticky from sex and sweat and hours of touch. My cheek rested on Nate’s chest, the slow, steady thud of his heart grounding me. Bob’s arm draped over my waist, his hand resting low on my belly, thumb lazily moving like even in sleep he couldn’t stop touching me.

The room smelled like sex and heat and them. My thighs ached in the best way. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so thoroughly… cherished.

“Morning,” Nate murmured, voice gravelly and warm.

“Mm.” I kissed his chest. “What time is it?”

“Early,” Bob mumbled behind me, already pressing a lazy kiss to the nape of my neck. “Too early to move.”

“We didn’t even make it to bed,” I said with a sleepy grin.

“Who needs a bed when you’ve got a goddess between you?” Bob’s voice was low, flirtatious, still half-asleep.

I rolled onto my back, stretching like a satisfied cat. The sheet slipped down my body, exposing my breasts to the morning air. Both men groaned softly, appreciation heavy in their eyes.

“You’re gonna kill us,” Nate muttered, brushing a strand of hair off my face.

“You’re the ones who kept going,” I teased, reaching down to squeeze Bob’s thigh. “I was just the innocent victim.”

Bob laughed, deep and rough. “Innocent? Baby girl, you’re the reason we’re both sore.”

Nate leaned in and kissed me, slow and soft, his hand sliding up my ribs, over my breast, like he needed to feel me again. Bob joined him, kissing my shoulder, and for a moment it was gentle chaos—three mouths, four hands, lazy touches and morning arousal building like a tide.

We stayed like that for a while, basking in the safety of what we’d become. Until someone’s stomach growled loud enough to make us all laugh.

“Okay, okay. Breakfast before sex round… five?” I said, sitting up with a stretch.

“I vote for breakfast in the nude,” Bob said, already pulling me toward the kitchen.

“Agreed,” Nate called out behind us. “But let’s at least open a window. It smells like an orgy in here.”

We laughed all the way into the kitchen.

I was still naked, wearing nothing but a few bruises and bite marks like badges of honor. Nate threw on boxers. Bob didn’t even bother.

They worked together like a dance—Bob prepping coffee, Nate cracking eggs, me stealing kisses and stealing bites. They handed me a spatula and insisted I flip the pancakes like I wasn’t still recovering from being railed on the couch two hours ago.

“You’ve got syrup,” Nate said, brushing a sticky spot from my collarbone with his finger, then licking it. “Mmm. Breakfast of champions.”

“Focus,” Bob said. “Or I’ll end up bending her over the counter.”

“You say that like it’s a threat,” I murmured, grinning as I leaned against the counter.

And then—

The front door opened.

Ace.

His voice carried before he appeared, keys jingling in his hand. “Hey, I thought I’d surprise—”

He froze.

I froze.

Everyone froze.

I was still naked. Bob was naked, his hand on my hip. Nate was standing behind me with bedhead and a freshly bitten mark on his collarbone.

Ace just stood there, blinking, the bag in his hand dropping with a soft thud to the floor.

“What the fuck?”

Chapter 17

POV: Daniella

“Ace—” I started, but he held up a hand.

“No. No, what the hell is this?” His voice cracked. “What is this?”

Neither Nate nor Bob moved.

“You’re with both of them?” His gaze darted between me and the guys. “I thought—fuck, I thought you were into me. That we had something. Dani. I let myself—God, I let myself feel something for you.”

“I didn’t plan this—” I whispered.

“Didn’t plan it?” He laughed, hollow and broken. “You’re naked in their kitchen. You smell like sex. There are bruises on your thighs, Dani.”

I crossed my arms, trying to cover myself, suddenly ashamed in a way I hadn’t felt in their presence. “Please just—listen.”

He looked at Nate and Bob like he didn’t recognize them anymore. “You two? You’re supposed to be my friends. My brothers. And you’re sharing her?”

Nate stepped forward, his voice low but steady. “Ace, it’s not like that. It just… happened. We didn’t plan it. But it’s real.”

“Real?” Ace laughed bitterly, shaking his head as his eyes turned glassy. “You guys are fucking sick.”

Then his gaze shifted to me.

And the pain there—God, the pain—cut deeper than any scream. Like he was unraveling from the inside out.

“Leave,” he said quietly.

“Ace, please,” I whispered, taking a step toward him.

“Just… leave.” His voice cracked, pleading and furious all at once.

I hesitated, frozen. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to give up.

“Leave!” he shouted, loud enough to make me flinch.

I grabbed my dress and yanked it over my head, my hands shaking. Nate and Bob started to follow, both still naked, both stunned and helpless—but I couldn’t bear their closeness.

I bolted from the apartment, ran down the stairs barefoot, heart pounding, throat burning. I hailed the first cab I saw and climbed in, not looking back.

And as the city blurred past the window, one truth settled deep in my chest like a stone:

There was no coming back from this.

I’d lost him.

And maybe… I’d lost all of them.

The moment I stepped into my apartment, I thought I saw it.

That car.

That car.

Parked half a block down. The same dull gray. The same dent on the side door. The same model Alexander used to drive.

I froze, breath hitching.

But then I blinked. And it was gone. Or maybe it never was there. Maybe my brain was cracking under all this weight.

I closed the door and leaned against it, sliding to the floor in a tangled mess of fabric and tears. My chest heaved, but the sobs didn’t come right away. Just a sick, tight ache curling in my stomach.

Then my phone buzzed.

Bob: Are you okay?

Nate: We’re sorry, Dan. For all of it. Ace is… he’s broken.

Another message.

Bob: We think it’s best if we all take some time. Just a few days. To breathe. Think. Please take care of yourself.

I stared at the screen until the letters blurred, and then I broke.

The kind of crying that left no air, just raw noise clawing out of me. I curled into the floor like a child, hands over my mouth, as if I could hold the pain inside. But it leaked out anyway.

I had ruined everything.

All three of them.

I lost them.

How could I have been so fucking stupid?

So greedy. So naive. So hopeful.

I thought I could have this—them. I thought maybe, just maybe, I could be loved that deeply, that wildly, and it wouldn’t come crashing down. But of course it did.

Because it was me.

I was the common denominator in every fucking disaster.

And now, I was alone.

Utterly, horribly alone.

I dragged myself to the couch at some point, blanket clutched to my chest, phone by my side, the screen dark.

I tried to breathe. I tried to sleep. I tried to forget.

But my body wouldn’t settle. My mind wouldn’t stop.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw their faces. Ace’s eyes full of betrayal. Nate’s guilt. Bob’s helplessness.

And the ache in my chest grew deeper.

By 3 a.m., I was still awake, staring at the ceiling, hollowed out and shivering in my own skin. The silence was too loud. My apartment felt too exposed.

And deep down… I couldn’t shake the feeling that something—someone—was watching.

Monday.

I shouldn’t have gone to work.

I shouldn’t have left my bed. Or the couch. Or the puddle of tears I’d become.

But I had to. Bills don’t stop just because your heart does.

I looked like a ghost in the mirror—red-rimmed eyes, skin pale and blotchy, lips cracked. I barely recognized myself. I didn’t even bother with makeup. What was the point?

I grabbed my bag with shaky hands and opened the door. And that’s when I saw it.

The car.

Same gray paint. Same dent. Same fucking license plate.

This time it wasn’t in my head.

It was parked across the street, just idling.

I froze, breath gone, nausea twisting in my stomach like a knife.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even move.

Just as I stumbled back inside to hide or vomit, the cab I’d called pulled up. The timing saved me.

Barely.

I rushed down the steps and dove into the cab, slamming the door shut behind me like it could keep the past out.

“Go,” I said to the driver, my voice hoarse.

As we pulled away, I dared a glance back.

The car didn’t follow.

But it was still there.

Still watching.

In the back seat, my hands trembled uncontrollably. I thought about texting Ace. He was the one I’d told about Alexander. The only one who knew everything.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Why would he help now?

I was the one who destroyed everything.

The pain in my chest ached like a cracked rib. I bit my lip to stop the tears, but they came anyway, silent and hot. I turned my face to the window, hiding from the driver, from the world, from myself.

When I got to the clinic, Maria took one look at me and pulled me into the back office.

“Jesus, Dani… what happened?” Her voice was gentle, but her eyes were wide with worry.

I shook my head. “The three hot guys… they’re not my friends anymore.”

That was all I could say.

Maria’s lips parted like she wanted to ask more—but then, seeing how broken I looked, she pulled me into a hug instead. I didn’t hug back. I just stood there. Numb. Cold. Hollowed out.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

I wasn’t even sure I heard it right. Everything felt underwater.

Later that afternoon, she came back.

“Just to let you know, I’ll be out of town for a few days, visiting my sister. You’ll be okay without me?” I just nodded, and she handed me a small envelope in her hand.

“These were dropped off for you.”

Inside were a set of car keys.

My car keys.

I stared at them like they were foreign objects.

No note. No message. Not even a take care.

Just cold metal in my hand.

It hurt more than anything else. More than yelling. More than silence.

It was distance. A wall.

He was gone.

And now it was final.

I cried again. Couldn’t stop. Not even in the bathroom, or the break room, or the fucking stairwell.

When I finally dragged myself back home, exhausted and hollow, something was… wrong.

The hallway felt too quiet.

The door was cracked open.

Just slightly.

But enough.

I knew I hadn’t left it that way.

I hadn’t even locked it this morning.

I stepped closer, heart slamming so hard I thought I might pass out. My hand trembled as I pushed the door.

It creaked open.

My apartment was dark. Still.

Too still.

And I knew, deep in my bones—

Someone had been inside.

Chapter 18

POV: Daniella

At first, I didn’t register what I was seeing.

It was like stepping into a stranger’s apartment.

My home—my safe little sanctuary—wasn’t mine anymore.

The door creaked as I pushed it open fully, and the faint scent of my lavender candle couldn’t hide the stench of something wrong. Something rotten. Something violated.

Everything was upside down.

Drawers torn open. Couch cushions gutted and thrown on the floor. My bookshelves—empty, the contents dumped and stomped on, pages torn like shredded wings. The fridge was open, door swinging slightly. Food spilled out onto the floor, milk pooling into a sour-smelling puddle. Eggs cracked and smeared into the linoleum like some grotesque painting.

I walked in on autopilot. One trembling step at a time.

My breath turned shallow. Sharp.

I stumbled over my own boots, thrown across the hall like weapons. Clothes—my clothes—were everywhere. Panties flung over picture frames, bras tangled in curtain rods, my favorite dress torn and slashed across the floor like a body.

My throat closed.

I turned toward my bedroom.

No, no, no—

My knees buckled, but I didn’t stop.

I needed to see.

And when I did—when my eyes finally landed on the wall—

I stopped breathing.

YOU BITCH. YOU WERE MINE. I WILL CATCH YOU.

The words were written in big, jagged, angry letters. My red lipstick smeared across the pale wall like blood.

I staggered back, slamming into the doorframe. My hands gripped the wood like I might fall. My pulse was a hurricane. My heart thrashed so hard it hurt, as if it were trying to escape my chest.

I couldn’t breathe.

Not really.

I gasped like I was drowning. My vision blurred. My limbs shook. Every sound was too loud—my panicked wheezing, the creak of the fridge door, the distant hum of the hallway lights.

A sob ripped out of me, messy and broken. My knees hit the floor.

It’s happening again.

He found me.

Alexander found me.

He was here. In my home. He touched my things. He wrote those words with my lipstick. He stood in the same room where I slept. He chose that message. He wanted me to read it.

I curled in on myself, shaking violently. My chest seized, ribs constricting so tight I couldn’t move. I was choking on air.

He’s going to grab me again.

He’s going to leave bruises again.

He’s going to drag me into the car.

His father—God, his father—he has people. Money. Weapons. Strings he can pull. If Alexander asked, he could make me disappear. And no one would even know where to look.

I pressed my palms to my ears, but it didn’t block out the noise in my head.

Run. Hide. Scream. Do something.

I thought of Maria.

She could help. I trusted her. She had my back. She—

No. I remembered her voice this morning. “I’ll be out of town for a few days, visiting my sister. You’ll be okay without me?”

I said I would.

I fucking lied.

Tears poured down my face as I curled tighter, my forehead pressed to the floor. The cold ground against my skin was the only thing keeping me tethered.

The only thing real.

I thought about calling the boys.

My first instinct. My only instinct.

Bob. Nate. Ace.

They’d protect me. They always did.

But then I remembered Nate’s shattered face. Bob’s unreadable silence. “We need some time, Dan.”

And Ace.

The way he looked at me like I was poison.

Like I was the reason he was breaking.

“Just leave.”

They weren’t mine anymore.

I had no one.

No one.

Just me, in the wreckage of my life, surrounded by the mess of a man who once promised to love me and only gave me terror.

And still—I had to move. I had to get out. I had to get away.

Or next time, I wouldn’t survive.

I knew it was a bad idea the moment I stepped out of the cab.

But I had nowhere else to go.

I was still shaking—my hands, my legs, my goddamn teeth. My whole body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry. My coat was wrapped tight around me, but I was freezing. Inside and out.

Tears blurred my vision as I raised my hand to knock. My knuckles barely tapped the door before it opened.

Bob.

The moment he saw me, his face changed. His warm brown eyes filled with pain, and his brows drew together like he was trying not to fall apart just from the sight of me.

“Beautiful…” His voice broke. “I don’t think it’s a good idea you’re here.”

I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t breathe. Behind him, I saw movement—Ace. He was walking down the hall but stopped dead when he saw me. He didn’t look at me. He just… froze. Turned his back and stayed completely still, like if he didn’t move, I’d disappear.

“I…” I barely got the words out. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Bob’s jaw clenched.

“I can’t go to a hotel,” I said, my voice cracking. “He was in my apartment. He trashed it. I just—please. I just need a night.”

Ace turned.

Slow. Almost reluctant.

And then his eyes met mine.

His expression broke me. I’d never seen someone so shattered.

“Alexander?” he whispered.

I nodded, my lips trembling. “I saw his car yesterday… I thought I was just being paranoid. But I saw it again this morning. And today, when I got home…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was sharp, but underneath it, I heard the pain. The fear.

“Because you were already broken,” I whispered. “Because I already fucked everything up. I thought saying anything would only make it worse.”

Nate appeared behind them, stepping into the hallway. His eyes landed on me, on the state I was in, and something dark flashed in them—like a storm about to break.

“He destroyed everything,” I choked, my voice barely more than a breath. “My fridge. My clothes. My bookshelf. Everything. And in my bedroom, on the wall, he wrote with my lipstick…” My chest seized. “You bitch. You were mine. I will catch you.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I broke.

I didn’t even realize I was falling until Bob caught me—his arms strong and warm as he wrapped me tight against his chest. I sobbed into him, my body convulsing with each breath. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.

“Who the fuck is Alexander?” Bob asked, his voice rough, angry, confused.

Ace stepped toward me. Slowly. Gently.

I turned my face, my eyes locking with his.

He reached for my arm, the same one still clinging to Bob. Carefully, like I might break under his touch, he pushed up the sleeve of my coat.

And there they were.

The faint scars. The faded bruises. The past I never wanted anyone to see.

Ace ran his thumb over one of them, tender and soft. Reverent.

“This,” he murmured, his voice breaking, “is the guy who did this.”

Bob looked down.

His breath caught.

Nate swore under his breath and turned away, running both hands through his hair like he was seconds from losing control.

My body felt weightless, like I’d fall right through the floor if they let go.

Bob pulled me closer, tucking my face into his neck. Ace stepped in and rested a hand between my shoulder blades. Nate came in from the side, silent but close.

I felt all three of them around me.

And then I heard Ace’s voice—low, steady, sure.

“You’re staying,” he said.

Chapter 19

POV: Daniella

I didn’t know how I got to the couch.

My knees had stopped working somewhere between the door and the living room, and my entire body felt like it had given up. Bob helped me sit while Nate disappeared for a moment and came back with a small pill and a glass of water.

“Here,” he said, crouching in front of me. “Just something to calm your body down a little, okay? You’re safe now.”

My fingers trembled as I took it, swallowing the pill with a sip of water that tasted like nothing. My mouth was dry. My heart still pounded in my ears like a drumline gone rogue.

I barely noticed that Ace hadn’t sat down. He was pacing. Slow, calculated steps, like a lion in a cage trying to stay in control. His voice came calm, but I could feel the edge underneath.

“I need you to tell me everything you know about him,” he said. “Start from the beginning, Dani. Please.”

I closed my eyes, took a slow, shaky breath, and began.

“His name’s Alexander Grimaldi. I met him in college. He was older, charming, from this rich, untouchable family. At first, he was… everything. I thought he saw me. Chose me. God, I was so stupid.”

Bob sat down beside me, and Nate pulled up a chair, silent but listening. Their attention burned into me.

“It didn’t start with the hitting,” I whispered. “It never does, right? It was slow. Controlling. He didn’t like my clothes, so I stopped wearing certain things. He didn’t like my friends, so I stopped seeing them. He started going through my phone, deleting messages. He’d get angry, but always say he was sorry after. And then… it got worse.”

I could feel the bruise on my soul as I spoke. Like I was reopening wounds I’d spent years stitching shut.

“He hit me once, then twice. And then… I found out his father was involved in all sorts of illegal shit. Drug trafficking. Laundering. Men going missing. I was terrified. I was living in this fucking penthouse like a princess in a golden cage, and I couldn’t breathe.”

Bob cursed under his breath. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Nate looked like he was made of stone, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles in his neck pulsed.

“I ran the second I saw the cracks,” I said. “The second I knew it was real. I left, changed everything. But I always knew… if he wanted to find me, he could.”

Bob touched my arms and turned to me, his voice low and filled with hurt. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? Why didn’t you tell me—any of us?”

My throat tightened. “Because I was trying to forget. And then I got here, and you guys—” My voice cracked. “You made me feel safe. I didn’t want to bring that darkness into this.” I looked at Ace, my voice barely a whisper. “I mentioned it to Ace once, but… I came here for a fresh start. I thought I could leave it all behind.”

My hands shook as I reached into my bag, pulling out my phone like it weighed a thousand pounds.

“I installed a camera in my apartment a few days after moving in. Just in case. I haven’t had the courage to look at the footage, but… I think you should.”

I handed it to Ace.

He took it gently, like I was placing something sacred in his hands. His fingers brushed mine—warm, grounding, steady—and for a second, I could breathe again.

Then he turned away and pressed play.

The room went still. So still I could hear the faint tick of the wall clock, the rustle of Nate’s shirt as he crossed his arms, the soft click of Ace’s thumb tapping the screen.

Ace’s body tensed. His back straightened like a rod, every muscle in his shoulders pulling tight. Then he muttered a curse under his breath. I had no idea how much time passed as he kept watching, but I could feel it—he was analyzing the footage like it was evidence.

Because it was.

“He’s been inside since day one,” Ace said, his voice flat and cold, like steel drawn from a sheath. “He’s been watching you. Coming and going like he owns the place. Leaving things. Messing with your head.”

My stomach lurched. The room tilted slightly.

The journal. The newspaper. The feeling I was being watched. All of it.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

Ace turned to Nate, eyes sharp. “This isn’t just some obsessed ex. This is bigger. This is the kind of shit we take to your dad.”

Nate nodded slowly, his jaw locked so tight I thought it might snap. “I’ll call him.”

Bob ran a hand down his face like he was trying to rub the shock out of his skin. “You’re telling me this guy—this piece of shit—hit you, stalked you, broke into your home… and his father’s a fucking drug lord?”

“Yes.” My voice broke, splintering at the edges. “And I have nowhere else to go. But I don’t want to put you all in danger. I just need a place to sleep tonight. Then I’ll leave. Again.”

Ace crouched in front of me, the phone still in his hand. He placed it gently on the table, then looked up at me—those bright blue eyes full of something fierce and devastating. Softer now. Cracked open.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said quietly.

And that broke me. And healed me. All at once.

A tear slipped down my cheek.

I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him, the weight of everything sitting in my chest like stone. My body ached. My soul ached.

“You trusted the wrong man once,” he said, voice steady and sure. “But not this time. You’re safe now, Dani. I promise you.”

And in that moment… I almost believed him.

The couch felt too big for me. I curled into the corner like I could disappear into it, watching the room move around me.

Nate was pacing, phone pressed to his ear, his voice low and clipped. Serious. Focused. I could only catch fragments—something about locations, something about “him being connected.” His father, probably. Whatever Nate’s family was tied to, it sounded powerful.

Bob moved quickly when Nate gestured to him. He grabbed a notebook and opened his laptop, sitting beside Nate like they were planning a war. Maybe they were.

And Ace… Ace poured himself a shot of whiskey. No words. No sound. Just the clink of glass against glass and the soft swish of amber liquid. Then he walked to the balcony, sliding the door open and stepping into the night.

My chest tightened as I watched him go. The way his shoulders dropped as he leaned into the railing, elbows braced like he was holding up the world.

I stood up before I could stop myself.

The cool air hit my skin first, then the city sounds—distant traffic, a dog barking, a soft breeze rustling through something green. Ace didn’t look at me as I stepped up beside him, mimicking his posture, resting my arms on the railing.

“I’m sorry,” I said, voice barely louder than the wind.

He didn’t look at me. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re not the one who did this. You’re the victim, Dani.”

“I know,” I whispered. “But I still dragged you all into it.”

Silence stretched between us. And then, softer now, I added, “I’m sorry.”

That made him turn.

He looked at me, those bright blue eyes catching the faint light, and something in his expression changed—shifted like tectonic plates underneath his calm. “You’re not talking about him anymore, are you?”

I shook my head.

Ace looked away, exhaling hard. “Dani…”

“I ran from everything before,” I said quickly, needing him to hear me. “When I left Alexander, I was terrified I’d never get to live the life I wanted. I used to lie awake at night thinking I’d die before I ever got the chance to love. To feel free. I made myself a promise—if I got out, I’d stop being afraid. I’d live. Really live.”

He turned fully to me now.

“I didn’t plan for this,” I said. “I didn’t mean to fall for any of you. And I didn’t expect to meet three impossibly gorgeous, funny, brilliant men who just happened to be best friends.” My voice cracked. “And I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I know I did.”

He studied me in silence. My chest rose and fell like I couldn’t catch my breath.

Then he said, softly, “I told the others already. But you deserve to hear it too.”

He stepped in closer.

“I like you, Dani.”

The words landed in my heart like thunder.

His gaze locked into mine, eyes blazing blue and tender all at once. “I like you more than I can admit. And more than I should. I cared about you. I thought we had something. Something real. I thought maybe… we’d be it.”

My throat tightened.

“And then I saw you,” he said, voice raw now, “naked in my kitchen. You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of that. Of seeing you like that. But not like that. Not with them.” His breath hitched. “You were supposed to be with me.”

The guilt slammed into me so hard I could hardly stand. I took a trembling step closer, my fingers finding his arm, trailing up until my thumb brushed along his cheek. I felt the way he leaned into it—just slightly, like he didn’t mean to.

“I like you, too,” I whispered. “So much. I never meant for it to happen like this. But I do. I really, really do.”

His eyes dropped to my lips. His breath slowed.

I rose to my tiptoes, inching closer. My lips were just a breath from his, and I could feel the heat of him, the storm of all the things we hadn’t said swelling between us.

But he didn’t move.

He just stayed perfectly still.

Waiting.

Torn.

Chapter 20

POV: Daniella

And just as my lips barely brushed his—almost—

“Guys!” Nate’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “I’ve got something. You need to see this.”

The moment shattered.

Ace pulled away first, slowly, like it hurt.

Neither of us spoke. We just turned and went back inside.

But my heart stayed behind on that balcony, still reaching for his.

We walked back in, and the shift was immediate.

The air inside felt thicker—like something invisible and irreversible had been said while we were gone. Nate was pacing in the living room, one hand tugging at his hair, the other holding his phone tightly like it was the only thing anchoring him.

He looked up at us, eyes sharp. “This is big.”

My stomach dropped.

Ace moved beside me, standing taller, calmer than I’d ever seen him.

Nate exhaled and ran both hands through his hair. “I talked to my father. He already knew the name—Alexander Grimaldi. He has a file. But his father…” Nate hesitated. “His father’s not just some shady businessman. He’s major. International connections, covered in layers of offshore bullshit. Drugs. Laundering. Arms deals. Corruption. Untouchable, almost.”

My hands started shaking again. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep my body from spiraling into full-blown panic.

“He’s had a file in both the FBI and DEA for years,” Nate continued. “But Grimaldi Senior knows how to play the game. Pays off the right people. Keeps things buried.”

“Jesus,” I breathed.

Nate looked at me, expression grim. “My dad doesn’t think it’s safe for you to stay here anymore. He’s organizing a safe house for you. For all of us.”

I took a step back like the words physically hit me.

“No,” I said. “No, no, this isn’t your problem. You can’t all just drop your lives—”

Ace turned to me, voice steady but soft. “You came to us, Dani. That was the right thing to do. And we’re not letting you go through this alone.”

“But I don’t want to drag you into this—”

“You didn’t drag us,” Nate cut in. “We walked into it. Eyes open. And we’re staying.”

I opened my mouth to argue again but stopped.

Because… what could I say?

That I didn’t deserve this kind of protection? That after everything I’d done to them, I didn’t have the right to ask for help?

I stared at the floor, guilt and fear twisting inside me like vines.

Then Nate turned and disappeared into his room. A few seconds later, I heard the sound of something metallic—cold, final.

When he came back out, he was carrying a sleek black duffel bag and a gun. Two, actually. My breath caught in my throat.

“What… are those really necessary?” I asked, voice smaller than I meant it to be.

Nate didn’t flinch. “Just for protection. My father insists.”

He turned to Bob and handed him one of the guns. “You remember?”

Bob nodded and took it easily, checking the chamber like it was second nature.

“Wait—what?” I asked. “Since when do you know how to handle that?”

Bob gave me a soft, almost apologetic look. “My dad was military. We used to go hunting. He taught me.”

Nate added, “Mine taught me, too. I’ve handled them since I was a teenager. We’re not looking for a fight. But if one comes to us, we won’t be unprepared.”

The weight of it all was crushing me now. Guns. Safe houses. FBI files.

I felt like I was drowning in a life I’d already escaped once—dragged back into it by claws I couldn’t shake.

Nate grabbed a few more clothes and slammed the bag shut. “We go now.”

The drive was quiet at first.

Ace drove, hands steady on the wheel, eyes fixed forward with that focused calm I’d started to rely on more than I should. Nate sat beside him, laptop open on his lap, his fingers flying over the keys as he mapped out whatever coordinates his father had sent. The glow from the screen lit his face in flashes—concentrated, intense.

I was in the back, next to Bob. My hands were frozen on my thighs, fists clenched so tight I could feel my nails in my skin.

Bob wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him.

I didn’t fight it. I just let myself fall into the warmth of his body, let his hand trace gentle patterns along my arm like he was sketching a promise he couldn’t put into words.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against my hair. “We’ve got you.”

I nodded, but the tears still came. Silent. Hot. Humiliating.

Ace’s eyes flicked up to the mirror, meeting mine.

And I saw it.

That crack still there. That pain. That tenderness.

But also something unshakable.

They were all here.

They stayed.

Even when I wouldn’t have blamed them if they’d run.

And I don’t know how I’ll ever deserve it.

Ace’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

I glanced up at the rearview mirror, my stomach knotting at the way his eyes narrowed, flicking again and again to the road behind us.

“Ace?” I whispered, sitting up straighter in the backseat beside Bob. “What is it?”

“We’ve got company,” he muttered, jaw clenched. “Black SUV. Been behind us since the last turn.”

My pulse roared in my ears. I whipped around. Sure enough, there it was—too close, too steady.

Nate leaned forward in the passenger seat, tapping rapidly on his laptop. “Shit. They’re not just tailing. They’re tracking. We need to move, now.”

“What? Who is it?” My voice came out shrill and breathless.

“We don’t know yet,” Nate said calmly, but I could see the tension in his body. “Could be Grimaldi’s men. Could be worse.”

I wanted to scream. Instead, I grabbed Bob’s arm and squeezed hard. He reached for me without hesitation, pulling me against his chest.

“It’s okay, beautiful,” he murmured, brushing his fingers through my hair even as I felt the rigid tension in his muscles. “We’ve got you.”

Ace’s voice cut through the silence. “Hang on.”

The car swerved suddenly, taking a hard right down a narrow road. Gravel spat out beneath the tires, dust clouding the rearview.

“We’re off route,” I said, panic rising in my throat.

“I know,” Ace replied, eyes locked on the road. “Nate?”