Page 64 of Twins for the Off-Limits Lawyer

The words hit her hard. She swayed slightly, and I caught her arms to steady her, feeling the tremor that ran through her body. The familiar scent of her perfume was now mixed with something sharper—fear.

"Your Mother," she whispered. "She said this would happen. She warned me that secrets always come out."

"My Mother had us followed, photographed, turned our relationship into ammunition for her own agenda."

"But why? What does she gain from destroying us publicly?"

"Control. Leverage. The power to force me to choose between you and everything else." I pulled her closer, needing the warmth of her body against mine. "She's betting that I won't sacrifice my career for you."

"Will you?"

The question hung between us, loaded with implications that could reshape both our lives. Looking into her eyes—those expressive, trusting eyes that had first captivated me—I felt something shift fundamentally in my chest.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I honestly don't know what I'm capable of choosing when forced to pick between everything I've built and everything I want."

Instead of pushing me away, she stepped closer, her hands fisting in my shirt with desperate intensity. "Then don't choose. Not yet. Not while we can still have this."

When she kissed me, it was with the fierce urgency of someone trying to memorize a moment before it disappeared forever.

I responded with equal desperation, pouring every word I couldn't say into the touch of my lips against hers.

This kiss was different from all our previous encounters—rawer, needier, tinged with the knowledge that it might be our last.

The world beyond my office door was already burning around us, but here, in this moment, there was only the taste of her mouth and the feeling of her heartbeat against my chest.

The weight of the mahogany desk beneath my hands felt foreign, like I was touching someone else’s life. Papers scattered across its polished surface—contracts, photographs, remnants of a world that suddenly felt hollow.

Lili’s breath ghosted against my lips, warm and urgent, as she whispered the words that shattered everything.

“I love you.” Her voice was a bare thread, fragile yet unyielding, like a promise carved into stone. I felt the tremor in her body, the way her fingers dug into my shoulders, as if clinging to me could anchor her in a reality that was slipping away.

“I love you too,”I replied, the words tasting bitter and sweet on my tongue. They were true, brutally so, and that terrified me more than any threat the world had ever thrown at my feet.

Lili’s eyes, those piercing eyes that had always seen too much, searched mine as if for confirmation. Her beauty was a weapon, a force of nature, but in that moment, it was stripped bare—raw and vulnerable. I saw the turmoil there, the same storm raging inside her that mirrored my own.

We moved as if pulled by an invisible thread, our bodies colliding with a desperation that bordered on violence.

The desk, the papers, the world beyond the office walls—they all ceased to exist. There was only her, only us, and the ticking clock that hung over our heads like a guillotine.

Her hands were everywhere, tracing the lines of my suit jacket, tugging at the fabric as if it were a barrier she couldn’t bear. I felt the heat of her skin through the thin silk of her blouse, the rapid beat of her heart against my chest. Every touch was a confession, a plea, a goodbye.

“Whatever happens tomorrow,”she murmured, her lips brushing my jaw,“whatever you choose, I need you to know that this—us—was real.”

I wanted to tell her it didn’t have to be this way, that there was another path, but the lie stuck in my throat.

The truth was, I didn’t know. The weight of my family’s legacy, the blood in my veins, the choices I’d made—they all stood between us like an army.

I lifted her, setting her on the edge of the desk, the scattered papers crunching beneath her thighs.

Her skirt rode up, revealing the curve of her leg, and I felt a hunger so primal it scared me. This wasn’t just desire—it was desperation, a last grasp at something beautiful before it was torn apart.

Her lips found mine again, hungry and demanding, as if she could devour me whole and keep me safe within her.

I tasted the salt of her tears, mingled with the sweetness of her mouth, and it undid me. My hands roamed her body, mapping every curve, every dip, as if memorizing her could somehow make this moment eternal.

“Edward,”she whispered, my name a plea on her lips.“Don’t let them take this from us.”

I wanted to promise her the world, to swear I’d burn it all down if it meant keeping her. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I kissed her harder, pouring every unspoken vow into the press of our bodies, the friction of skin on skin.

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