rned to her world of chandeliers and champagne, but something inside her had shifted. Every polished smile felt h

rough rain-slick streets, and quiet corners where the city hummed like a living organism. Elena learned the rhythm of his world: the smell

as waiting by the curb, leaning against his bike like he belonged to the night. No words were needed; the

ths across the waves. Elena confessed things she had never said aloud-the pressure of her family

unshakable. "You're not your last name," he s

nce. For the first time, Elena wondered if she could rewr

like knives. Her mother's voice grew colder, her father's gaze heavier. Elena felt the walls closing in, ye

secret, every lie, ever