It started with a text. A number. A job that paid too much for doing nothing at all. All she had to do was live. Be watched. And never ask why. The cameras were set. The money came in. Silence was the only rule. But silence has a sound. And it follows her. Even now. People look familiar, but she's never met them. Her belongings shift when she's asleep. And sometimes... she sees faces in places no one should be. She ended the job. But the watchers never left. And the strangest part? No one remembers the company. Not even her friend who sent the text. There are no answers. Only eyes. Everywhere.

Scarlet Rogers never believed in second chances... not for love, and certainly not for the man who once broke her heart like it meant nothing. When her ex returns to their friend circle with a new girl on his arm and that same smirk on his face, Scarlet does the unthinkable. She kisses Asher Ellesmere. Quiet, unreadable Asher. The man who sketches the world in silence, speaks in shadows, and watches everything like it's a story worth telling. Their lips meet under the salty breeze of a beach bonfire, and just like that, a lie is born. They'll pretend. For a month-long holiday soaked in sun and wine, laughter and late-night swims, they'll hold hands, share blankets, and trade glances meant to burn. But somewhere between pretending to smile and actually meaning it, between stolen kisses meant for show and the soft way his fingers brush hers when no one's looking, Scarlet begins to wonder... What if this lie feels more like home than the truth ever did? As the days stretch and the waves keep time, hearts tangle in quiet moments. And by the time the ex starts to notice... Scarlet's not sure she even cares. Because Asher...soft-spoken Asher, who never asked her to fake anything...is starting to feel like the one thing she never knew she needed.

She came from the sea with no name, no past...only a soft song inside her that sounded like the ocean. Zayn found her near the lighthouse...barefoot, afraid, and full of mystery. He took her in and slowly taught her how to live a normal life, even though he knew deep down she wasn't like anyone else. But the sea never forgets its own. As her memories slowly return, so does the truth of who she really is...and what she was meant to be. Zayn falls in love with the quiet girl who talks to birds and watches the waves as if they might speak to her. He knows that someday, she might have to leave. This is a love story between a boy and a girl from two different worlds. It's about choosing love even when it hurts....and what happens when the sea finally calls her home.

She hated him the moment he walked into her life...uninvited, cold, and way too handsome for her own safety. He claimed her like a storm claims the sea. Not gently. Not softly. But with force that made her knees tremble. "You can't force me to be your wife," she snapped, lips red with rage. "Then run," Leon said, stepping closer, voice like warm danger, "but I'll still own your shadow." Stark Aaira was born into luxury, used to glitter and games. She partied too late, kissed too carelessly, and trusted no one. Especially not men who wore suits like armor and looked at her like sin. Leon Scott Kennedy wasn't just a man. He was the man...the devil the mafia feared. Cold. Sharp. Broken in places no one dared to touch. And now, he owned her for 365 days. At first, all they did was argue. Her rebellion was loud, stubborn, messy. His silence was deadlier than a bullet. But then came a night when she kissed him first...out of fury, out of confusion. And he kissed back like she was the only thing worth ruining. Their kisses were fire. Their fights were foreplay. And their nights? A mess of tangled sheets, bruised lips, whispered names. He never kissed her soft, and she never let him win easy. But in between the rough hands and locked gazes, there were moments... Moments when he tucked her hair behind her ear and didn't say a word. Moments when she touched his scars and didn't ask where they came from. "You confuse me," she whispered one night, bare skin to bare skin. "Good," he said, brushing his thumb along her jaw. "I hope I burn you alive." Every night, he sat in the dark with one song on repeat, his head bowed, cigarette untouched in his hand: 🎵"I've been through hell And I don't wanna go back You say you love me But what kind of love is that?" It was more than music. It was his confession. And maybe, Somewhere between rebellion and ruin, they begin to fall... Not fast. Not clean. But real.