The town square was alive. Bunting of red, white, and blue curled around light poles and storefronts. Booths lined Main Street—grilled corn, funnel cake, lemonade, hand-carved crafts. Laughter echoed across the green where kids ran with sparklers and old-timers tuned…

The early mountain sun broke over the trees with sharp clarity—no haze, no softness—just crisp beams of light cutting through the glass of the cabin like truth. Jack stood at the sink in his kitchen, steaming mug of black coffee…

The private jet touched down just before sunrise. Tyrone Dominian stepped off the aircraft like a returning king. Tailored charcoal coat draped over one arm, sunglasses on despite the early hour, and the faint scent of leather, sex, and dominance…

The light through the cabin windows was golden and soft, filtering through the trees and spilling across the floorboards in wide slats. The fire from last night had burned down to glowing embers, but the air still carried the thick…

Charlene didn’t leave that night. Not after the table. Not after the second round on the bearskin rug in front of the fire, when Jack had bent her over with her heels still on, his hands gripping her hips like…