THORNS IN MY HEART (SEX, LIES AND HEARTACHES)

CHAPTER 1

WILL YOU MARRY ME WYN?

Wynter burst out of the warehouse, gasping for air as the cool night breeze hit her face. The long hours of moving boxes had taken a toll on her body. Her chest constricted, and she reached for her inhaler, taking a quick puff. The relief was temporary, and her body still ached. She leaned against a car in the parking lot, scanning the dimly lit area for a place to sit. Spotting a lone bench, she made her way over, her legs feeling unsteady. As she passed the first row of cars, she heard a low, guttural sound. It sent a shiver down her spine, and she hesitated, curiosity getting the better of her.

Wynter crept closer, the rhythmic grunts and moans growing louder. Peeking around the corner of a van, her breath caught in her throat. There they were-middle aged man charastic man whom she guessed he's probably in his early twenties and a lady, her body pressed against the side of a car, their bodies moving in a frantic, unrelenting rhythm, as he thrusts heavily from behind, his hands gripping her hips firmly.

He was big, his thick skin tonned, his muscles rippling under the pale glow of a streetlight, his hands gripping the woman's hips as he drove his dick into her with a force that made the car shake. The lady's back arched, her nails digging into the car's roof, her cries sharp and unrestrained.

Her stomach twisted, a mix of shock, embarrassment, and something else she couldn't quite name. She couldn't look away. The man's movements were hypnotic, each thrust deliberate, powerful, almost possessive. The woman's moans grew louder, more desperate, until they were almost screams. Her body quivered, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed her harder against the car, staring at what was in front of her, her mind, soul and body was fixed into it.

Wynter wanted to leave, but her legs, couldn't move, she couldn't even take a step, backwards, and she knew they were not even supposed to see her there, she couldn't take the embarrassment. Wynter's heart pounded in her chest, her own breath quickening. She felt wrong watching, but her feet were rooted to the spot. The man's head tilted back, a low growl escaping his lips, and the woman's cries reached a fever pitch. It was raw, primal, and utterly intoxicating.

Then, the woman's eyes snapped open, locking onto her. "What the hell are you looking at, bitch?" she snarled, her voice sharp enough to make her flinch. The man's head turned, his piercing gaze meeting hers, and she felt her face flush with heat.

She stumbled back, her feet slipping on the asphalt. "I-I wasn't-" she stammered, but the woman's glare silenced her. Turning on her heel, she bolted, her chest burning as she ran. Her mind raced, the image of the man's muscular frame and the woman's ecstasy etched into her brain. She felt ashamed, but beneath the shame was something darker, something hungry.

Wynter ducked behind a row of cars, her back pressed against the cold metal, trying to catch her breath. Her hands shook as she buried her face in them, trying to erase the scene from her mind. But it was no use. The man's face-his eyes, his body, the way he moved-was all she could think about. He was beautiful, like something out of a fantasy, and the thought of him with her sent a pang of jealousy shooting through her chest.

She took a deep breath, attempting to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. "What am I doing?" she scolded herself, her inner voice laced with frustration. "I don't even know him! I'm being utterly ridiculous!" She reminded herself of the strong, independent woman she was – unshaken and unbreakable. No man would ever look down on her, and she certainly wouldn't allow herself to be drawn to someone so easily.

Yet, the nagging voice in the back of her mind persisted, refusing to let go. "What if you see him again? What if he looks at you like that?" Her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought, and she shook her head, trying to dispel the fluttering sensations. "Get a grip," she told herself firmly. "I need to go home, forget this ever happened."

As she stepped out from behind the cars, her eyes involuntarily darted toward the row where she'd last seen him. The car was still there, but the two of them were gone. She swallowed hard, a strange mixture of relief and disappointment settling in her chest. "Good," she thought. "It's over. Move on."

Her mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions – excitement, embarrassment, and a hint of curiosity. She couldn't shake the feeling that a part of her was still searching for him, wondering if their paths would cross again. The uncertainty was both thrilling and terrifying, leaving her breathless and bewildered.

As she turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of herself in a nearby window reflection. For a moment, she stared at the stranger staring back – a woman with a mix of emotions etched on her face, her eyes sparkling with a hint of adventure. She took another deep breath, the cool air filling her lungs, and slowly let it out. It was time to move on, to leave the encounter behind and focus on the present.

But as she walked away, she couldn't help but wonder – what if?

•

Wynter flopped onto her bed, stretching her muscles and staring at the ceiling. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the vibrant life she'd once known. Her gaze drifted to her phone, where she spotted a dating app she'd never downloaded. "When did I get this?" she wondered aloud. Memories flooded back – a colleague had borrowed her phone, and now she had a slew of messages from some guy called Black Bird.

Wynter's curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the messages. The guy was being super creepy, calling her "cutie" and asking to get to know her. She rolled her eyes and shot back a response, annoyed. "What's your deal, dude?" She added an irritated sticker for good measure.

Just as she was about to put her phone away, he replied. "My deal is you, baby... What's your name?" Wynter scoffed. "My name's Wynter Bliss, and that's more reason to back off, dude!"

The guy's response made her jaw drop. "I love girls like you; they're the cutest." Wynter was fuming. "Girls like me? He's been with tons of ladies!" She warned him to stay away, but he just asked how much she charged per night. Wynter's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "What? How much for a night?!"She couldn't believe this guy, he was getting off her nerves.

A wicked grin spread across her face as she replied, "Why don't we discuss this over lunch tomorrow, sir?" The guy responded immediately, sending her a location – an upscale restaurant in the city. Wynter's expression darkened. "Now I hate you more... How dare you flaunt your wealth?!"She balled her fist, promising herself to show him what exactly she's made off.

•

Malvern sighed deeply, he just arrived at the supposed restaurant, where he was supposed to met his new bitch, and off course he doesn't know what she looked like, but he hope it's a good one, reaching out for the car door handle it was cold under his palm, the metallic chill biting into his skin as he gripped it tightly.

But as he twisted the handle, ready to step out into the night, a sudden heat flared in his gut, sharp and undeniable. His breath hitched, his pulse quickening.

"No, Not now!" He squeezed his eyes shut, his hand trembling on the door. The familiar itch crawled up his spine, burning through his veins.

"I can't. I can't do this." He pulled his hand away from the door like it had burned him, his body already betraying him. His mind raced, his thoughts jumbled and frantic." I need... I need..."

He moved backwards, resting his back on his seat, his breathing shallow. His heart pounded in his chest, the sound deafening in the silence. He definitely know he can't go out like this, he knew fully well he won't make it into the restaurant. He clawed at the collar of his shirt, the fabric suddenly too tight, too suffocating. His skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief. God, I need it. I need... something."

His toys were not in the car, he had left it back home, The calming pills he'd been prescribed were sitting uselessly on his nightstand, forgotten in his rush to get ready." Stupid... So fucking stupid." He cursed under his breath, his desperation growing by the second.

He felt his legs trembling. His hands were shaking, his palms slick with sweat. He have no choice. "I have to... I have to do it myself."He scoffed.

The thought made his stomach twist with shame, but the ache in his body was too much to ignore. It was like a wildfire, spreading faster than he could control. His pulse thrummed in his ears, his body demanding release.

He grabbed a bottle of K-Y jelly from shelves his fingers fumbling with his hardened cap. The familiar scent hit him, sharp and clean, and he nearly groaned. "Fuck....This is it."He grunt. pouring a slick pool into his palm, the cool liquid sending a shiver down his spine. His breath came in short, ragged gasps as he reached down, his fingers brushing against the hard length straining against his pants.

His hips bucked involuntarily, a low moan escaping his lips." Yes. Yes, God, yes." He worked the oil into his skin, the slick warmth sending jolts of pleasure through him. His hand moved faster, his grip tightening as the tension in his body coiled tighter and tighter. His mind was a haze of heat and need, every thought blurred except for one: more.

The car and surroundings was silent except for the sound of his breathing, harsh and uneven, and the slick slide of his hand. His head fell back against the couch, his eyes squeezed shut.He tried to think of something to smoothen his thoughts, but he couldn't think of any.

The fantasy burned through him, his body writhing under his own touch. "Fuck....yeah"He garps.

His pace quickened, his body tensing as the heat built inside him. His breath caught in his throat, a strangled sound escaping his lips." I'm so close, So close"He groaned , his palms, rubbing his cap intensively as he felt his organsms. His hips jerked, his hand moving frantically. And then, with a shuddering gasp, he came undone, his white cum, shooting up, splitering all over the driver wheel.

He collapsed back against the seat, his chest heaving. The car felt too small, too hot, the air thick with the scent of him. His heart pounded in his chest, his body trembling with the Caughting his breath, he reached out for the tissue tearing out some pieces, he cleaned up the wheels, tossing it off the wastebin as he cleaned up himself.

This wasn't the first time he was doing this, but it felt strange, staring outside his mind buzzing with thought of give lady he was going to meet inside, at least, he was gonna add to his count tonight.

He forced himself to his feet, his legs unsteady beneath him. His shirt was wrinkled, his pants still slightly open. He fumbled with the zipper, his hands firm. He had to go, he had already waste Alot of time, getting off the car, he arranged himself .

He walked into the restaurant, preoccupied with the blind date he was about to meet. Wynter or whatever he didn't really register on his radar. He'd agreed to meet her only to satisfy his own desires, not expecting anything meaningful.

As he entered, a waitress welcomed him. "Nice to have you here, sir. Did you book a seat or just walk in?" He cleared his throat. "I booked a seat. It's Number 35."

The waitress smiled. "That's your seat, right behind you. Your date is already waiting for you." He followed her gaze and locked eyes with Wynter. She sat with her back straight, her long brown hair cascading down. Her bright blue eyes sparkled as she sipped her drink.

Time stood still as he took in the sight of her. His feet seemed to move on their own, drawing him closer. The waiter's voice faded into the background as he approached Wynter's table. His heart pounded, and his palms grew sweaty. He felt an overwhelming urge to claim her.

Without thinking, he grasped her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers firmly. Wynter's eyes widened in surprise. "Will you marry me, Wyn?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

Wynter sat at the table, sipping her drink and staring out the window, her mind consumed by the arrogant stranger she was about to meet. She'd never laid eyes on him before, but she was determined to take him down a peg. As she mixed her juice with a straw, her thoughts drifted back to the mysterious but charming guy from the night before.

Her cheeks flushed at the memory of his deep, husky voice, his chiseled features, and his toned skin. He looked like a demigod, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. But her admiration was quickly replaced by annoyance when she remembered he was fucking a lady out there in the streets. The thought made her blood boil over.

Wynter cursed herself for feeling a pang of jealousy. She wasn't supposed to care about someone else's actions, but she couldn't shake the image of him holding someone else close. Her mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions – excitement, embarrassment, and a hint of curiosity.

She was supposed to be the one, he was holding down last night, she was supposed to be the one taking his hard thrusts into her body, but instead another person barked on her.

As she struggled to gather her thoughts, a strong hand grasped her palm from behind. She turned to see who it was, and her eyes widened in shock. It was him – the Charming prince the same stranger she'd been thinking about all night. Wynter's mind reeled as she tried to process the situation.

Before she could say a word, he held her plams possesively as he asked the unthinkable: "Will you marry me, Wyn?"

The room fell silent, and all she could hear was the pounding of her heart. It was as if time had stopped, and all that existed was the two of them.

Wynter's eyes locked onto his, searching for answers. Was this a dream? Was she hallucinating? She felt like she was floating on air, her senses heightened. The sound of his voice, the feel of his hand on hers, the look in his eyes – it all seemed surreal.

As she sat there, frozen in shock, she couldn't help but wonder what had just happened. Had he really just proposed to her? And what did it mean for their future together? The questions swirled in her mind, but she couldn't find the words to ask them. All she could do was stare at him, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Will you marry me, Wyn?"Her mind replayed his questions

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of her lungs. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, but no sound came out. He stood there, towering over her, his grip on her palm firm but not painful. His voice-deep, smooth, and dripping with that same arrogance she'd heard yesterday-was now softened by something she couldn't quite place. Was it sincerity? Desperation? Wyn didn't know. All she knew was that the man who had haunted her thoughts since last night was now standing in front of her, asking her to marry him.

Her mind raced. Marry him? This man-this stranger-who she'd only seen for the first time yesterday, who she'd sworn was the epitome of arrogance, who she'd convinced herself she was going to "deal with" today. What the hell is going on?.

And one thing she was sure about was the he didn't remember her, from last night, at first she was tempted to throw herself at him, tell him yes, that's she's ready to be his, but another one cautioned her and reminded her, she had and would never be a easy target, for any man.

Wynter's eyes widened in incredulity as she forcefully withdrew her hands from his. "What the hell do you think you're doing, sir?" she retorted, her anger palpable.

"You heard me," he said, his tone steady but laced with that same commanding presence that had made her both furious and inexplicably drawn to him yesterday. "Will you marry me?"He asked again, his quest dominant and possesive.

She pulled her away from his, taking a step back. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions-confusion, disbelief, and, to her own frustration, a flicker of curiosity. "You're insane," she said, her voice stronger now. "I don't even know you."She reprimanded.

Malvern was taken aback, seems like he suddenly woke up from a trance, why the hell did he ask her to marry him, and yet again, how dare her reject him, all he had remembered no women had dared rejected him, but she did it, she said it to his face. Calming himself, he felt he'd overstepped, letting his emotions cloud his judgment. "Oh, I apologize... just a slip of the tongue," he whispered, adjusting his shirt.

Wynter's laughter was laced with disdain. "A slip of the tongue? I call that an assult ? You can't just grab someone's hand without consent, and fucking tell them to marry you!"

Malvern offered his most charming smile, taking the seat opposite hers. "I've apologized, Miss. Why are you still upset?"He tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips.

Wynter found his smile repulsive. "What do you think you're doing, taking that seat? It's reserved!"She smirked back at him.

Malvern extended his hand, his smile still on his lips, as he mumbled those words. "Hi, Wyn. I'm Black Bird."

Wynter's eyes sparkled with amusement. "So, this is it?"She trailed off, her mind flashing back to the image of him pressed against a woman in the alley, his hand gripping her thigh, his lips trailing down her neck. The memory sent a jolt of something through her-anger, jealousy? She wasn't sure.

Malvern remained unfazed. "Hi, Wyn. Sorry to keep you waiting, and sorry again for my earlier behavior, I was just teasing my pallet."

Wynter's voice was soft, measured. "So, it was you?, the dude from the...."She paused, taking her eyes off him, when she couldn't bare his beautiful eyes on her.

Malvern smiled. "My name is Malvern Archer. That's me, and you're Wynter right?"He asked.

Wynter maintained a straight face, sipping her fruit juice. Malvern was taken aback – this wasn't the reaction he typically got from women. Because whenever he's around girls he doesn't need to make the move ,but instead they do , girls, women, ladies,they crowd , around him.

He was about to say something,when a waiteress, brought a dish ,in tray right in front of Wynter ,and he could guess she ordered it .

"You ordered , for food already?"He asked, giving the waiteress his own order, as be watched her unwrapped the food.

"Do I need to starve myself because of you?" she asked, her tone icy, hitting him like a baseball.

Malvern was taken aback, but her words struck a chord, breaking the little boldness he had tried to gather up in front of this lady...or girl. "That's a fair point," he thought, "but her delivery is harsh."He pondered.

"Sorry I took up your time; something unexpected came up," he stammered, surprised by the weakness in his own voice.

"I don't need your insincere apology," she retorted, her voice still frosty.

Malvern discreetly clenched his sweaty palms, feeling trapped and uneasy. No woman had ever spoken to him like that before, and his usual charm seemed lost on her.

"Have I wronged you in some way?" he managed to ask. "Why are you all Curt towards me?"He asked.

"What's your name again?" she asked, her tone firm, as she dig her spoon into the soup.

Malvern sighed deeply, her delivery are all harsh, and at this rate he thinks it's high time he let her know what exactly he is."My name is Malvern," he replied softly.

Wynter hissed in disgust."Look at me, really look at me. What do you see?" she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

He locked eyes with her, his gaze sweeping across her upper body. He couldn't deny her beauty – her long hair, sparkling eyes, small round face, and curves that caught his attention. However, his instincts told him she wasn't seeking compliments.

"I don't understand what you're getting at, Wyn," he muttered.

"How old are you?" she snapped.

Malvern hesitated, knowing most people disliked discussing their age. Still, he wanted to please her. "I'm Twenty-Six Wyn," he replied.

And Before he could finish, she cut him off. "I'm nineteen, Mr. Malvern!"

"Mister ?,Why the formal title?" he whispered, his brows raised.

"When I asked you to take a good look at me, you said you saw nothing," Wynter said angrily. "Now, I'm telling you – what you're doing right now is borderline predatory,a child abuse!"

Malvern was taken aback. "Predatory? How so, Wyn?" he asked.

"Because I'm nineteen, and you had the audacity to ask me how much I charge for a night!" Wynter retorted.

Malvern realized he had misstepped. "You're still seeing yourself as a teenager, but I'm only twenty-six that doesn't make me old," he replied.

"Do you know why I came here?" Wynter asked, her voice rising. "I came to give you a stern warning: not every woman you meet will tolerate your inappropriate advances!"

Malvern's smile faltered. Wynter's anger was palpable."She looks adorable when she's angry," he thought to himself.

Wynter, however, was seething. "Do you find this amusing?" she asked, her voice icy.

"No, Wyn, I'm not taking your words lightly," Malvern replied. "My mind was just preoccupied with something else."

Wynter stood up, grabbed her bag, and headed to the counter. "Where are you going?" Malvern asked, following her.

Wynter ignored him, walked up to the cashier, and paid her bill. Malvern was taken aback.

"Why did you pay the bill?" he asked.

"I'm not that broke, and I won't wait for you to pay," Wynter hissed, walking out of the restaurant.

Malvern followed her. "Why are you doing all this?" he asked, trying to stop her from hailing a taxi.

Wynter turned to him. "You don't know?"

Malvern sighed. "Okay, I understand what I said yesterday was wrong, and I apologize. I didn't mean it."He apologized immediately, still not believing himself. Did he just apologized to the girl, for what!?

A sly smirk crossed Wynter's lips as she walked away. Malvern followed her, grasping her hand from behind.

"Wyn, can you –"

Wynter landed a forceful slap on his face, cutting him off. "Next time you lay your filthy hands on me, you'll regret ever crossing paths with me!"

Malvern stood frozen, clutching his face. Never had he been treated this way by a woman – let alone a nineteen-year-old girl.

Malvern watched as Wynter stormed off and hailed a cab. He stood there, transfixed, until the vehicle disappeared from view. Feeling dismayed, he trudged back to the restaurant, remembering he hadn't paid the bill. However, as a regular patron, it wasn't a concern.

Upon entering, he headed straight to the cashier. The lady, attempting to initiate a conversation, said, "Looks like you had a fight with that one. I think she's not interested, if you know what I mean."

Malvern wasn't in the mood for small talk. "I'd advise you to mind your own business, unless you want to risk losing your job," he warned sternly before leaving.

The cashier was taken aback, surprised by Malvern's aggressive tone. "Guess she's special," she thought to herself.

Malvern got into his car and drove to work, his thoughts consumed by Wynter. Her image kept flashing in his mind, and he couldn't shake off the feeling. However, he recalled how irritated she was with him, remembering the disgusted expression she made when he touched her earlier. He also recalled the slap she gave him when he grabbed her hand.

"Damn, I need to stop overthinking this," he muttered to himself as he stepped out of the car and into the large company building.

Blord Archer is the founder and CEO of Pinnacle Holdings, a diversified Luxury Real Estate Development, conglomerate based in Toronto, Ontario, Canada.

But at the same time, he work as a common Director in his company , and this is known to only to few members of the family, the prominent CEO of PINNACLE HOLDING'S is Blord, Malvern's Cousin. Blord stayed as the acting CEO to give family, but to the world, be is give President of PINNACLE HOLDING'S.

As Malvern made his way to his office, he received greetings from numerous women, all vying for his attention. the ones he'd possibly sexed without even knowing it .Their flirtatious behavior was a familiar sight, but it had grown tiresome.

"Gross," he muttered, slumping into his office chair.

"Welcome sir "His secretary entered unannounced.

As usual, she's dressed in a sluty tight, revealing skimpy gown ,hung just above her ass check ,all this plays , just to entice him. While a Nineteen years old kid , barley thinks about him , not to think of acknowledge him, and this alone drives him insane.

Malvern acknowledged her with a curt "Morning, Kyler." He watched as she swayed over to his desk, dropping a file in front of him. "What's this about?" he asked, picking up the file.

"It's the comprehensive file for Pinnacle Holdings' proposal. Your signature is required," Kyler explained, her fingers brushing against her boobs .

Malvern sighed inwardly accustomed to Kyler's overt flirtations as he watched her display,Despite their numerous sex and streamy encounters, he struggled to recall the specifics,he just couldn't recall the countless times he had fucked the woman standing right in front of him ,she gives herself to him freely like a burnt offering.

Malvern sighed inwardly, . "Okay, I'll review it. You can leave now," he said, turning his attention to the computer.

Kyler's face fell, her expectations unmet. Though she often initiated their encounters, she craved more than just physical intimacy. "Alright, sir..." she whispered, turning to leave.

She paused halfway to the door. "Sir, do you need anything else?"

Malvern's gaze remained fixed on the computer. "What do you propose offering me, Kyler?"

Kyler's voice took on a raw, sensual tone. "Do you need... a favour? , like a Blow Job , have become so perfect in it and I can make you feel better"She replied, sensually ,as her fingers traveled around her boobs .

A sly smirk spread across Malvern's face, but his eyes didn't leave the screen. "I appreciate your proposal, Kyler, but I don't require that at the moment. When I do, I'll let you know."

Kyler's face lit up with a secretive smile. "Can I... kiss you, then?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Malvern's gaze finally met hers. "Why?"

Kyler's eyes sparkled. "I just feel like it, and I wish you'd let me."

"That's not enough reasons,for me to let you do that "He replied, keenly .

"So... what do you want me to do ?"She replied, gently.

He sighed deeply." Leave Kyler,when I need you I'll let you know, don't make this hard for you " .

Kyler kept her face down ,as she exits the room ,she and her boss has being the the Erotic relationship for months now ,but he'd never showed any sign of interest in her and it broke her up so badly .

•

Wynter arrived at her workplace, still seething with anger from earlier. She worked at a store in a large shopping mall but had recently been transferred to work in the main mall, responsible for restocking shelves for sales. After changing into her uniform, she began her shift.

Tyler, her colleague, approached her for a chat. "Hey, Wynter, I didn't think you'd make it to work today," she said with a smile.

Wynter's gaze turned icy; she held Tyler partly responsible for her earlier encounter with Malvern. "Is there ever a day I miss work?" Wynter replied coolly.

Tyler backpedaled. "No, that's not what I meant."

Wynter ignored her, continuing to stock the shelves. Tyler tried again, her voice laced with excitement. "So, about that app, did you meet anyone interesting?"

Wynter's expression turned stern. "Tyler, installing that app yesterday should be the last time you try something like that with me. If you do it again, I'll have no choice but to report you to our manager."

Tyler was taken aback, though she had anticipated a reaction. She hadn't expected Wynter's response to be so blunt. "I'm sorry..." she whispered to herself.

•8:00 PM

Wynter let out a deep sigh as she collapsed into the chair beneath the tree, finally done with her first day of work at the mall. Still clad in her uniform, she felt exhausted from the non-stop shelving and catering to customers. "I definitely need a change," she thought, gazing up at the stars, which reminded her of her happy past and large family. Now, however, she was alone.

Her thoughts drifted back to the encounter with Malvern earlier that day, and the slap she'd given him.

"Hope I didn't overreact," she murmured, but she quickly shrugged off the guilt, placing the blame squarely on him.

As she sipped her red juice, Wynter glanced around, checking her watch. It was already past 8, which meant the security guard would soon arrive to lock up the store. She decided to hurry and pack her belongings, changing into her regular clothes.

As she quickened her pace, Wynter chose to pass through the main store, noticing a few lingering customers. With haste, she opened the door and collided with someone, spilling her juice onto their clothes.

"Shit... I'm so sorry!" Wynter apologized, scrambling to pick up the scattered belongings. Face down, she gathered the items, but the person remained motionless, as if transfixed.

Standing up, Wynter met the person's gaze, and her eyes locked onto the one individual she'd sworn never to cross paths with again. Malvern stared back at her, his expression unreadable.

"Malvern?" Wynter whispered, her voice laced with surprise.