Malik pushed himself up on one elbow, his face inches from mine.
“Olivia.” His voice was velvet, dark, and smooth. “My beautiful Olivia.” His emerald eyes burned into me. “I would move heaven and earth to save you. I would never allow anything to happen to you or Roman.”
His gaze dipped to my lips.
He lowered his mouth toward mine.
I turned my head at the last second, burying my face into the soft bedding.
What was happening to me?
Why was I losing myself in Malik’s embrace?
I needed to stop this. I needed to pull away.
Before I could move, Malik leaned in, his breath fanning across the sensitive skin of my neck.
A gasp hitched in my throat, not from touch, but from proximity, from the unbearable heat that pulsed between us.
His hand lingered just above my arm, not quite touching, yet somehow igniting sparks beneath my skin.
“Malik,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
His name felt forbidden on my tongue—dangerous, magnetic, wrong.
He didn’t smile, not really. He just watched me with that unreadable gaze, as if he already knew the war inside me.
“Why am I drawn to you?” I asked, voice barely audible. “Why does my soul feel this connection?”
Malik exhaled, leaning close enough that our foreheads nearly touched.
Then, he chuckled—low and smooth, full of something I couldn’t name.
“You ask too many questions.”
A shiver ran through me, not from his touch, but from the truth humming between us—undeniable, dangerous, and untouchable.
But then?—
Like an insect buzzing in my brain, a thought intruded.
I’m married.
A frown pulled at my lips.
Where did that come from?
And then—like a blade through the haze?—
I’m married to Roman Alexander.
My breath hitched. My body froze.
Roman.
His name was like a lightning strike to my senses.
In an instant, the spell shattered.
