The storm hit just after midnight.
Orla sat curled on the edge of the bed, a towel wrapped loosely around her, the thunder outside matching the pulse still hammering in her chest. Rain slammed against the windows of the cliffside villa like a warning, sharp and relentless. Stanley was still asleep—half-naked, arm thrown over the empty space she’d just left.
He looked peaceful like this.
Almost human.
Almost not the same man who’d pinned her to the table hours ago like he was trying to rewrite the ache between them with every breath, every thrust, every broken vow.
But they both knew nothing about them had ever been peaceful.
She stood slowly, walking to the narrow window, watching lightning tear the sky apart. Somewhere far below, the sea howled, wild and angry. And in her chest, som
