Juliette’s POV
The city lights shimmered through the rain-streaked window, turning the world outside into a blurry painting. Inside, the apartment felt too small, too heavy. My chest still burned from the confrontation at the rink, the words of the shadowed figure replaying on an endless loop: “Choose wisely, Juliette. The storm has only just begun.”
I couldn’t breathe without feeling the pull of it—the tension, the danger, the unspoken desire that both Bryan and Dorian radiated. My body ached with it, my mind spun with questions, and my heart… my heart had no map, no guidance, just a frantic rhythm that mirrored the storm brewing outside.
The texts hadn’t stopped. Whoever was behind them wasn’t giving up. My phone buzzed on the counter, and I flinched. I wanted to ignore it, to pretend
