POV: Alexander Kane

The car hummed through the night, Brooklyn’s jagged edges fading into the Long Island Expressway’s blur. Elena sat beside me, her duffel clutched tight, her jaw set like she was ready to bolt again. The emerald dress still clung to her curves, a cruel reminder of that kiss on the gala balcony: her lips soft, then fierce, unraveling me in a way I hadn’t planned. Now, her eyes were daggers, cutting through the dim light. She’d given me one chance, but trust? That was a ...