Loved With Measures is a collection of passionate, heart-stopping one-shot romances that explore love in all its complexities-across age gaps, forbidden desires, dangerous liaisons, and unexpected encounters. From the sun-drenched beaches of the Mal...
Rain hammered the darkened streets of Marseille, the city's neon reflections rippling across puddles. Behind the walls of Saint-Julien Prison, 38-year-old Damien Moreau sat in his cell, the chill of concrete pressing against his back. Hardened by years in the underworld, Damien had built a reputation—cold, calculated, untouchable. Yet even a man like him could not erase the memory of her: 25-year-old Isabelle Renard, fiery, clever, and far too innocent for the life she was born into.
He remembered the first time they met, in the dim light of a back-alley casino. Isabelle had been a petty thief, nimble and daring, and Damien had watched her with interest, impressed by her audacity. She had smiled at him then, teeth flashing, eyes bold. He had never forgotten that smile. Damn her, he thought, she's too reckless, too alive.
Two years later, she'd been caught in a heist gone wrong and thrown into Saint-Julien—the same prison Damien called home. Their encounters had begun with tension—whispers in corridors, stolen glances across the yard—but over time, that tension had twisted into something raw, impossible to ignore.
Tonight, Damien wasn't thinking about escape plans. He was thinking about her. She was sitting across the cellblock, braids damp from the evening rain seeping through the barred windows, scribbling furiously in a notebook. A plan, no doubt. She was always plotting.
"You're staring again," a voice said from the shadows. It was Julien, Damien's cellmate. "Gonna confess your love, or just dream about her while we rot here?"
Damien smirked darkly. "I don't confess. I act."
And tonight, action was necessary.
Hours later, the alarm rang—a sharp, jarring sound cutting through the quiet. Chaos erupted as guards shouted orders. Damien had prepared for this. Hidden in the shadows of the maintenance corridor, he slipped past cameras, alert for every creak of the floorboards.
"Damien!" Isabelle's voice called out, breathless, carrying a mix of fear and frustration. He turned to see her in her orange jumpsuit, her hands trembling.
"I told you to wait," he growled under his breath, his heart thudding as adrenaline coursed through him. "We don't have time."
She hesitated, eyes wide, then nodded. Together, they moved like ghosts through the prison's underbelly—through tunnels he had mapped months ago, past sleeping guards and security cameras. Every step brought them closer to freedom... and closer to one another.
When they finally emerged into the chill of the night outside, the city lights blinking like distant stars, Damien let himself exhale. Isabelle looked at him then, and in her eyes, he saw a spark of something that mirrored his own—a dangerous, thrilling desire that neither age nor circumstance could deny.
"You could have waited," she whispered, voice trembling, but there was a hint of excitement too.
"I don't wait for anything," he replied, taking her hand. "Not you. Not freedom. Not life."
For a moment, they just stood there in the rain, drenched, shivering, yet electrified. And Damien realized that every risk, every crime, every second spent in a cage had led to this—the chance to claim something that wasn't his legally, but wholly, undeniably, emotionally his.
She's mine, he thought, and for once, the thought didn't terrify him.
As sirens wailed in the distance, they disappeared into the twisting streets of Marseille, two fugitives bound by crime, danger, and a love that neither time nor the law could contain.
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