The Alpha's Desire Series Book 2 by Black Barbie

In the world of Alphas, power is law and mates are claimed, not chosen.

One reckless night binds her to a pack ruled by violence and secrets. Marked by an Alpha who thrives on control, desired by others who refuse to let fate decide for them, she becomes the spark that ignites old rivalries and new wars.

Each Alpha wants something different.

Protection. Possession. Revenge.

None of them are willing to lose.

As the mate bond tightens and blood is spilled in her name, she learns the truth love is not the danger. Power is.

Because in a world where Alphas never share, the greatest sin is wanting more than one… and surviving it.

Blrub

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Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Prologue

She was folded into the farthest corner of the darkened room, seated on the icy tiles, her knees drawn tightly to her chest as though she could hold herself together by sheer force. Tears streamed unchecked down her face. She made no move to wipe them away. What was the point? The pain inside her was far greater than the sting on her cheeks.

Her heart throbbed with a relentless ache, sharp and suffocating, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quiet it.

Deep down, she knew exactly where it came from.
It was because of him.
It had always been because of him.

Why did he have this kind of power over her?
She had never been this fragile. Never this easily shattered.

“Jacqueline.”

His voice low, rich, unmistakable cut through the cold stillness of the room. It sent a shiver racing up her spine, the fine hairs at the back of her neck rising in response.

She buried her face deeper into her arms and curled further into herself, as if she could disappear into the shadows. She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t even want the sound of him reaching her ears.

The heavy rhythm of his footsteps echoed across the tiles as he approached. They stopped directly in front of her. Her fingers tightened around her arms until her knuckles blanched white, her nails biting into her own skin.

“Jacqueline.”

This time his voice cracked strained, almost wounded. Why did he sound like that? Why did he sound as though he were the one hurting? He wasn’t supposed to hurt. He was supposed to be happy.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

The words left him in barely more than a whisper, but to her they rang loudly in the suffocating quiet.

How cruelly ironic it was how someone could take your heart, crush it into a million splinters, and then offer an apology as if it were enough. As if a single word could gather those shards and restore what had been destroyed. Sorry was nothing more than a thin smear of ointment over a festering wound. It didn’t heal. It only delayed the rot.

She had once believed she was composed, resilient, unbreakable. He had proven otherwise. He had shown her just how fragile she truly was how easily she could be reduced to something small and trembling.

When she felt his hand settle gently on her arm, she recoiled as if burned. Her head jerked upward, and their eyes locked.

Olive green colliding with dark brown.

He inhaled sharply at the sight of her face her swollen, reddened eyes, glistening with tears. For the first time, he saw something in her gaze he had never witnessed before. The light that usually danced there was gone, replaced by raw, unguarded anguish. It twisted painfully in his chest.

She stared at him in return.

He was kneeling in front of her.

His own eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Why? Why did he look so devastated? Why did he appear as though he were the one undone?

“I… I’m sorry,” he repeated, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears.

But apologies could not rebuild ruins.

“You can’t fix something that’s already broken,” she murmured softly the same sentence he had once thrown at her.

His shoulders sagged as though the weight of her words pressed down upon him. His head bowed, and a single tear slipped down his cheek.

His chest tightened painfully.

What had he done?

Mr. Loïc brought the car to a smooth stop at the university’s main gate.

“Thank you,” Jacqueline said brightly, already reaching for the handle before he could step out to open the door for her. She hopped out with easy grace, slung her bag over her shoulder, and started toward the entrance.

Eyes found her immediately.

They always did.

She was one of the known faces on campus. Not just her, her entire gang. It was only their first year, yet somehow they had already built a reputation for themselves. Between their ridiculous pranks, loud laughter, and constant chaos, their names floated through the corridors like gossip that refused to die.

She had barely set foot inside when a shrill voice pierced the air.

“JACQUELINE!”

Thérèse came hurtling toward her and threw herself into a bone-crushing hug. Jacqueline burst into laughter, wrapping her arms around her dramatic friend.

“You scream like”

Thérèse pulled back instantly, eyes wide in warning. “Don’t even start.”

Jacqueline snorted.

Thérèse also known as the melodramatic queen of their circle was all long manicured nails, sky-high heels, glossy red lips, and blonde perfection. She looked intimidating, high maintenance even. But beneath the glamour, she had the softest heart of them all.

“Aww, such a touching reunion,” Laurent drawled as he strolled over, rolling his eyes. “How many years has it been since you last saw each other? Oh right. Eighteen hours.”

Laurent was tall, devastatingly handsome, with warm tan skin and unruly curls. And his smile his smile alone was enough to turn heads wherever he went.

“Don’t be jealous, Laurent,” Jacqueline teased.

He grinned at her shamelessly.

“Am I interrupting a private party?” Gilles called out as he jogged toward them in his jersey.

Gilles the campus jock, the resident bad boy, and absolutely aware of it. He was popular beyond reason, yet his real circle consisted only of Laurent, Thérèse, Jacqueline, and Fanny. The five of them were inseparable.

Most people assumed they’d met at university. No one knew they went further back same college, family ties woven between them. Laurent, Gilles, and Thérèse had practically grown up together. Fanny and Jacqueline joined their orbit later, and from that moment, the most chaotic, borderline psychotic, but fiercely loyal gang was born.

It wasn’t all fun and games though. They had worked hard very hard to earn their admission to Crystaldel University. Each of them made it in on merit. Well… almost. Poor Fanny had nearly dragged Gilles across the academic finish line. The so-called bad boy had been hopeless in studies until she took charge.

“Where’s Fanny?” Gilles asked, deliberately ruffling Thérèse’s hair.

She growled at him.

“She’s the nerd of our circle. Class starts in two minutes where do you think she is?” Thérèse shot back, arching a brow.

Gilles chuckled.

“Cafeteria at recess?” Laurent suggested.

They nodded and headed off to their respective classes.

Jacqueline, Fanny, and Gilles were all business majors, which meant most of their lectures overlapped. Laurent was pursuing law, while Thérèse was hopelessly, passionately in love with history so much so that she majored in it without apology.

Inside the classroom, Gilles headed straight for the back row, not before tugging Fanny’s ponytail as his version of greeting. She shot him a lethal glare. He smirked and claimed the last seat.

Jacqueline slid into the seat beside him in the back, while Fanny, the only responsible one among them, occupied the very first row.

The rest of them were proud backbenchers.

That didn’t mean they were failing, though. Far from it. They were blessed with sharp minds. They studied when it mattered, aced their exams, and still found time to wreak havoc. Balance, after all.

A minute later, footsteps echoed down the aisle. The professor entered, greeting the class as everyone straightened in their seats.

“Class,” he began, “we have a new student joining us.”

Confused murmurs rippled through the room. A new student? In the middle of the semester?

Then came another set of footsteps heavy, deliberate.

Every head turned toward the door.

He walked in.

Tall. At least six-two. Maybe more.

His head was slightly bowed, dark black hair brushed back by careless fingers, though one rebellious strand had slipped forward to rest against his forehead. His skin was sun-kissed tan. A neatly trimmed beard sharpened the lines of his jaw. Jacqueline immediately guessed he was older than most of them.

Her gaze lingered.

Pink lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line. High cheekbones. Straight nose. Thick brows drawn together as though permanently irritated. Was he angry? His lashes were dark and thick.

Her eyes drifted lower.

A fitted black full-sleeved T-shirt hugged his torso, outlining a body that made her blink twice.

Oh.

Damn.

She glanced sideways at Gilles, who was already looking at her. She lifted a brow meaningfully.

Looks like someone might finally challenge Gilles’ bad-boy throne.

Because this guy radiated danger without trying.

Black pants. Black boots. Effortlessly intimidating.

She finished her thorough inspection and lifted her gaze back to his face

and froze.

Olive green eyes locked onto hers.

Cold. Hard. Unsmiling.

He looked furious. She had no idea why.

Look away, dude, she muttered inwardly.

I know I’m pretty. But don’t stare at me in the middle of class. Where are your manners?

She held his gaze stubbornly.

Then her jaw nearly dropped.

He rolled his eyes.

Rolled. His. Eyes.

Excuse me?

What do you think of yourself? she fumed silently, returning the gesture.

Unfortunately, Gilles had witnessed the entire exchange and was now fighting laughter beside her.

Perfect.

“This is Damien Ruiz,” the professor announced.

The name lingered in the air.

“Take a seat, Damien.”

There were only three seats left. Two in the front row.

And one.

Right beside Jacqueline.

Of course.

The tall stranger walked down the aisle without a word and dropped into the empty seat next to her.

Silence settled thickly between them.

Jacqueline blinked and glanced at Gilles, who was still wearing that infuriating smirk.

Oh no.

She would not give him the satisfaction.

Determined to wipe that grin off his face, she turned toward the silent newcomer.

Damien.

Unique name.

“Hey!” she said brightly, offering him one of her signature smiles.

He didn’t even look at her.

Not a glance.

Did he just ignore me?

A snicker escaped Gilles.

Jacqueline shot him a glare.

Idiot.

She turned back stiffly, staring ahead.

Stupid, arrogant Damien.

“Here goes nothing,” she whispered under her breath.

Drawing in a steady breath, Jacqueline walked toward him with measured, almost regal steps as though she wasn’t marching straight into potential humiliation. She slid smoothly into the chair opposite him.

He didn’t look up.

Didn’t even register her presence.

He remained focused on his food as if she were invisible.

She refused to glance at her friends. They were definitely grinning like idiots right now.

Jacqueline cleared her throat dramatically.

That worked partially.

He paused mid-bite for exactly two seconds.

Then resumed eating.

Still not looking at her.

She cleared her throat again, louder this time.

Without lifting his gaze, he calmly grabbed his can of Coke and set it in front of her.

Her cheeks flamed instantly.

Behind her, she heard the explosive, shameless laughter of her ridiculous friends.

“Thank you,” she said stiffly, forcing composure as she popped the can open and took a gulp. He still hadn’t looked at her. She subtly raised the drink toward her friends in a sarcastic toast, earning more suppressed laughter.

Time to recover.

“So,” she began lightly, “why did you take admission so late?”

Silence.

No reaction.

God, what are you? Ice royalty or something? she fumed internally.

“Are you Frosty?” she continued. “Do you communicate in sign language?”

She flashed a sloppy little wave of a signed hello. She only knew a few signs things she’d picked up during a visit to an orphanage for special children but she used them anyway.

And then

He looked up.

Her heart stuttered.

Olive eyes locked onto her hazel ones, sharp and unblinking.

Her palms turned damp instantly. She dropped her gaze not out of fear.

No.

His stare was just… intense. It felt like it peeled through layers of her, straight to the bone.

When she dared to glance back up, he had already returned his attention to his food.

She exhaled quietly.

“So, Mr. Frosty,” she went on, as if she hadn’t nearly combusted under that stare, “I came over to ask if you’d like to be my friend. And before you misunderstand no, I don’t roam around campus asking random guys to be my friend. You’re the first. You should feel honored. Becoming friends with the great Jacqueline is a privilege.”

She paused dramatically.

“Oh wow. I didn’t even introduce myself. That was rude of me.” She placed a hand over her chest. “I’m Jacqueline. Nineteen. Business major which you probably figured out since you’re in the same class.”

Still nothing.

“Oh please, don’t bother introducing yourself. I already know you won’t speak. I’m adapting.”

She leaned forward slightly.

“You’re majoring in business too. Maybe you failed a few times? That would explain why you look like you belong in your final year.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Let me guess your age. I’m excellent at guessing. Twenty-two? Twenty-three? Maybe twenty-five at most. You don’t have wrinkles, so we’re safe.”

Not even a flicker of reaction.

She powered on.

“By the way, my friend is already head over heels for you. Thérèse. Blonde. Perfect nails. Red lips. She wanted your number.” She waited.

Nothing.

“She’s really hot, you know. I don’t usually play matchmaker, but you’d like her. And I have this whole gang two boys, three girls. If you ever feel like joining, that’d be fun. Again, I don’t normally recruit strangers, but Mr.” she paused theatrically, studying him, “you’re not exactly a stranger anymore. We’ve established a very special relationship where you ignore me and I keep talking because I need your number to prove you didn’t ignore me. So… what do you say”

He stood up.

Just like that.

No interruption. No glance. No word.

He picked up his tray, walked to the trash bin, dumped his leftovers, placed the tray on the counter, and strolled out of the cafeteria without sparing her a single look.

Jacqueline watched him go.

He walked like he owned the floor beneath him. Calm. Controlled. Intimidating. Dark energy clung to him like a second skin. She noticed the way girls openly stared as he passed.

Yes, he was handsome.

But honestly control yourselves.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Thérèse appeared beside her, patting her shoulder before dropping into the seat.

Gilles, Laurent, and Fanny followed, settling down with their trays.

“So?” Thérèse sang sweetly.

Gilles tried to hold it in.

Failed.

He burst into loud laughter.

Within seconds, the entire table dissolved into hysterics.

Jacqueline scrunched her nose, folded her arms across her chest, and leaned back in her chair, glaring at the cafeteria doors through which Mr. Frosty had just exited.

Great.

“You were blabbering nonstop,” Gilles wheezed, slapping the table. “You only blabber like that when you’re nervous. And he didn’t say a single word.”

She shot him a murderous glare.

“He offered me his drink,” she said defensively, lifting the Coke can for evidence.

Thérèse tilted her head sympathetically. “Babe, you kept clearing your throat. He probably thought you were choking. That was basic human kindness.”

Fanny covered her mouth, shaking her head as if she wasn’t laughing.

“Whatever,” Jacqueline muttered.

“So,” Laurent leaned forward with a wicked grin, “no funfair for us. Which means you lose. And we get to punish you.”

“Excuse me?” Jacqueline straightened, her smile slowly turning dangerous. “I didn’t say I gave up.”

They paused.

“And none of you mentioned a time limit,” she continued smoothly. “So technically, I’m still in the bet.”

She flashed them her most innocent smile.

“Fine,” Thérèse said. “You have one week.”

“Two weeks,” Jacqueline countered immediately.

“You can take two years,” Gilles grumbled.

“Two weeks,” Fanny voted calmly.

“One week,” Thérèse and Gilles said together.

All eyes shifted to Laurent.

He considered it carefully before grinning.

“Two weeks.”

He high-fived Jacqueline.

She smiled slowly, eyes drifting toward the exit.

“Two weeks,” she repeated thoughtfully. “For Mr. Frosty to finally speak.”

A new mission sparked to life behind her gaze.

“Judging by Jacqueline’s face, I am dying to hear this,” Thérèse chirped dramatically.

Fanny lifted one perfectly shaped brow at Jacqueline, her expression clearly asking, What did I miss?

“So,” Gilles began lazily, leaning back in his chair, “the professor introduced a new student today.”

Thérèse immediately set her spoon down and clasped her hands together as though preparing for a royal announcement. “I’m all ears,” she declared solemnly.

These two belong in a circus, Jacqueline thought, rolling her eyes.

Her gaze drifted across the cafeteria and landed on him.

Two tables away.

He sat alone, a tray in front of him, posture straight, expression unreadable. He didn’t glance at anyone. Didn’t smile. Didn’t acknowledge the noise around him. He looked like someone had dragged him there against his will and threatened him to stay.

“Jacqueline was checking him out,” Gilles continued with a low chuckle, “when the dude rolled his eyes at her.”

Jacqueline scrunched her nose at him. “Stop.”

“Woah,” Thérèse gasped theatrically. “He must be something special to roll his eyes at this beauty.”

“Shut up, Thérèse,” Jacqueline muttered under her breath.

“That’s not even the best part,” Gilles added, enjoying himself far too much.

“Oh?” Laurent raised a brow, taking an enormous bite of his burger. “There’s more?”

“The professor told him to take a seat,” Gilles went on. “There were only three seats left. Two in the front row… and one beside Jacqueline.” He paused for effect. “Guess what happened?”

“You don’t need to narrate it like a bedtime story,” Jacqueline snapped.

“What?” Thérèse, Laurent, and shockingly even Fanny said in unison.

Jacqueline stared at them in disbelief. Even Fanny was entertained. Wonderful.

“The guy walks straight to the back,” Gilles continued, barely holding in his laughter, “sits beside Jacqueline, and Jacqueline, being over-smart, goes” He pitched his voice higher in mock imitation. “‘Hey!’”

He lost it at that point, snorting mid-sentence.

“Then?” Thérèse leaned forward eagerly.

“He ignored her existence.” Gilles burst into full laughter.

The table erupted.

“Not funny,” Jacqueline muttered, stabbing at her pasta while her so-called friends laughed themselves breathless.

“I would love to see this hunk who dared ignore her,” Thérèse mused dreamily, nibbling at her salad because of course she was dieting.

Gilles’ head turned slowly, predator-like, scanning the cafeteria before locking onto their target.

“There,” he said. “Two tables to my right. The lone wolf. Damien Ruiz.”

Thérèse’s jaw dropped.

Fanny went still.

Both of them stared openly.

“He’s f**king hot,” Thérèse sang under her breath, shamelessly devouring him with her eyes.

“I agree,” Fanny added calmly.

Jacqueline’s eyes widened slightly.

Fanny never found anyone attractive.

Fantastic.

“No wonder he ignored you,” Thérèse murmured. “He looks like a Greek god.”

“He didn’t ignore me,” Jacqueline shot back quickly. “He just didn’t hear me. That’s all.”

The four of them scoffed in perfect harmony.

“Is that so?” Thérèse arched a brow with exaggerated skepticism.

Jacqueline hummed dismissively and took another bite of her food.

“Why don’t you go get me his number?” Thérèse suggested sweetly, waggling her brows.

Jacqueline laughed low in her throat. “Why don’t you get it yourself?”

“But he ignored you,” Gilles cut in smoothly. “And you said he didn’t hear you. Why not test that theory now?”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m not doing that just to prove you idiots wrong.”

“What are you afraid of?” Gilles pressed, clearly enjoying poking the fire.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” she growled.

“Then prove them wrong,” Laurent said mildly, tilting his head.

“I’m not in the mood,” she replied flatly.

“He ignored her. That’s why she won’t go,” Fanny said matter-of-factly.

More laughter.

Jacqueline leaned back slowly in her chair, crossing her arms. Her voice turned dangerously calm.

“What do I get if I prove you wrong?”

The four of them fell into thoughtful silence.

Before they could answer, she did.

“Funfair.”

A collective groan echoed around the table.

“Not that,” Gilles whined immediately, looking like a traumatized puppy.

“Funfair,” she repeated sweetly. “Or I’m not moving.”

She knew their weakness.

They hated rides. Especially the horrifying ones. Gilles and Thérèse would rather run five miles barefoot than step onto a roller coaster. Which meant they would back down.

“Fine,” Gilles said at last, though his smirk told her he thought he had already won. “If you get his number, we all go to the funfair. And yes we sit on every ridiculous ride you choose.”

Jacqueline felt the smallest crack in her confidence.

The jerk knew Damien would ignore her again.

But she was Jacqueline the Great.

She could make a statue speak if she tried hard enough.

“Fine,” she muttered, pushing her chair back. It scraped loudly against the floor as she stood.

Her heart beat faster than she liked to admit as she walked toward him.

“Here goes nothing,” she whispered under her breath, taking a steadying breath before stepping into his space.

The shrill scream of her alarm ripped through the quiet of the room, dragging a groan of pure irritation from her throat. Jacqueline fumbled across the bedside table, seized her phone, and silenced it before collapsing backward into the welcoming softness of her pillows. She had barely released a breath of relief when a sharp knock rattled her door.

“Go away,” she muttered into the mattress.

But she already knew that was useless.

The door creaked open anyway. Light footsteps crossed the floor, followed by the decisive swish of curtains being thrown apart. Ruthless sunlight flooded the room, those wicked golden rays attacking her peaceful darkness without mercy.

“Hélène, stop!” Jacqueline protested groggily as the middle-aged woman began tugging at her quilt. Jacqueline clutched it tighter, wrapping herself like a burrito in desperate defense.

“Wake up, young lady. You’ll be late for university,” Hélène announced firmly and then, without warning, she yanked the quilt away entirely.

Jacqueline squealed as the cold morning air brushed against her bare skin.

God, she hated this ritual.

“You are evil,” she accused, sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes while stretching with a dramatic yawn.

“Of course. I know that, honey,” Hélène replied calmly. “Now go shower, and then wake your brother. I’m making breakfast.”

She left with a small, satisfied smile.

Jacqueline dragged herself to the restroom. She slipped out of her nightgown, took care of her morning routine, and stood beneath the hot spray of the shower until the warmth chased away the last traces of sleep. When she stepped out, wrapped in a towel, she dressed in a neat knee-length skirt and a button-up shirt tucked properly in place. After blow-drying her hair, she left her room with far more energy than she’d woken with.

Time to pass on the evil.

She marched into Mathieu’s room, flung open his curtains just as mercilessly, and began tugging at his quilt.

“Honey bunny crunchy monkey, wake up!” she sang sweetly.

Mathieu groaned from beneath the covers. Like sister, like brother.

“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled, gripping the quilt tighter.

“Okay, chipmunk,” Jacqueline replied with a giggle.

“My name is Mathieu,” he complained stubbornly, clutching the sheets like they were life support.

“Of course, Sloth,” she laughed.

Her laughter turned into a surprised squeal when Mathieu suddenly released the quilt. Jacqueline, who had been pulling with all her strength, went flying backward and landed squarely on the floor on her backside.

She landed safely… but it hurt like hell.

“You dumbhead!” she growled, scrambling up, ready to charge at him.

Too late.

Mathieu dashed into the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it before she could reach him.

“You have five minutes!” she shouted, pounding on the door. “And don’t think I’ll forget this. I’ll settle the score I give you my word!”

“Yeah, blah blah, sissy,” Mathieu sang mockingly from inside.

Jacqueline scrunched her nose in annoyance, but a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

“Five minutes!” she yelled once more before heading downstairs.

She crossed the wide hall and entered the grand dining room a space large enough to seat at least twenty people. Hélène was already setting breakfast for two.

“Pancakes! Hélène, I just love you,” Jacqueline declared dramatically, dropping into her chair and staring at the food with sparkling eyes.

Hélène chuckled at her excitement. “Love you too, sweetie.”

Mathieu shuffled in moments later, still looking half asleep.

Jacqueline was nineteen. Mathieu was ten. They lived in the magnificent, palace-like mansion with their father.

Well… not her biological father.

Édith had raised Jacqueline alone. Jacqueline’s real father had walked away before she was born, unwilling to face the responsibility of being a young parent. Édith had been only eighteen when she gave birth and had carried the burden by herself.

When Jacqueline was eight, a wealthy man named Julien Bourdon entered their lives. He was thirty then, a bachelor. As he always liked to say, he had fallen in love with Édith at first sight. She had been twenty-six, with an eight-year-old daughter, and Julien had embraced them both without hesitation.

They married. A year later, Mathieu was born. Their family felt complete. Their home overflowed with laughter.

Until Jacqueline’s fourteenth birthday.

That was the day everything shattered.

Édith died in a car accident. Jacqueline had been in the car with her. Somehow, she survived.

Her mother didn’t.

Jacqueline never spoke about the accident not to anyone. The loss carved a permanent hollow inside their once-happy home.

They survived, somehow.

But things changed.

Jacqueline stepped into a more protective role, looking after her little brother. Julien buried himself deeper in work, drowning his grief in endless hours and responsibilities. Édith’s absence lingered like a shadow in every room, in every heartbeat.

Still, they learned to breathe around the pain. Jacqueline, especially, clung to small joys. She collected moments of laughter like treasures.

Hélène had been with them since the day Édith arrived as a bride. Over the years, she had become more than house staff she was family. A second mother. Both children adored her.

“Why do you always make her favorite breakfast? That’s cheating, Hélène,” Mathieu complained, pouting.

Jacqueline let out a wicked laugh.

Hélène lightly smacked Jacqueline’s head in playful reprimand, making her pout exaggeratedly.

“I’ll make chicken steak for dinner,” Hélène offered.

Mathieu’s face lit up instantly. Jacqueline gave him a sheepish grin.

They ate while Jacqueline animatedly recounted how she and her university friends had pranked the janitor by dressing as ghosts complete with wigs and ridiculous costumes. Mathieu burst into laughter, nearly choking on his food.

After breakfast, Hélène handed Mathieu his lunchbox. He rushed out of the mansion, climbing into the car with the driver who would take him to school.

Jacqueline pressed a kiss to Hélène’s cheek before stepping outside. Her own driver was already waiting by the porch.

Mr. Loïc opened the car door for her.

“Good morning, Mr. Loïc,” she greeted brightly.

He smiled back warmly.

Jacqueline was the brightest presence in the entire mansion. She carried light with her spreading warmth, laughter, and positivity wherever she went. Her smile alone could make others smile in return.

She was joy embodied. Kindness flowed naturally from her. She thrived on fun, on thrill, on mischief and affection.

And one look at her dazzling grin was enough to make anyone feel the dangerous temptation of falling under her charm.