The price of her heart

over and over in her head: "Your time. Your heart. Your loyalty." She couldn't shake the feeling that something in her life had irrevoc

ter. The place was as modest as ever-faded walls, a small table cluttered with art supplies, and the

ke little pinpricks of hope in a sea of uncertainty. For a moment, she thought about how far she had come-lea

. Avery's heart sank. Her mom had been ill for a while, and it was always h

ou coming over tom

They had no money, and the little savings she had went toward her mother's medications and doctor's bills. Avery had spent years trying t

for a long moment before

there tomorrow,

? She had always known there were people who had power and influence in the world-people who could make or break careers. But J

nsure of who it could be. It was late, and she wasn't expecting anyone.

d a delivery man holding a large, square pac

y Monroe," he said

urn address was blank, and her curiosity grew as she set the package down on the coffee

it, a painting she recognized all too well-one she had painted years ago, before she even moved to the city. It was a

he painting, and she picked it up, feeling

ent, Avery. Now, let me sh

ting was un

as J

g into her life, leaving his mark on everything. The art. The choices she had

ded time. She needed to thin

her hopes and dreams, she realized that everything she had ever wanted

t wha

ttling note from Julian and the way he seemed to have stepped into her life without warning. She could still picture the way he had stood in front of her painting, his cold, cal

top thinking a

ent, Avery. Now, let me sho

like a whisper, both a

work on a new piece she'd been putting off. But no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept returning to Julian Hartley. The way he had made her feel-both invisible and expos

ng meeting with her mother's doctor. Avery had promised to be there. But she didn't hav

ed back to Julian's offer. What if she said yes? What if everything she had worked for, everything s

again. This time, it was a text

eel it. The chance to step into a world of luxury, recognition

hroat. It wasn't just a coinci

ok as she typ

How did you g

came almos

what I want is for you to trust me. You'll see that my offer

even too cautious-about trusting people. But this was different. Julian wasn't just anyone. He had

in confusion. Who could that be? The only people who visited

as smaller, but it carried the same air of mystery as the last. It wasn't signed, and ther

about the way he looked at her-his eyes, too intense, as though he knew something she didn't. But before s

her-bound journal and a key. The journal was thick, well-worn, as though it had been used for ye

it, half-expecting there to be a no

ween two pages. It was a simple note, wri

choice. The journal is for your thoughts, your dreams. Wr

ng. Was he playing with her, or was he serious? She couldn't deny the pull of his words, the way he had promised her so much

journal in her hands,

uly step int

he was. But the more she thought about it, the mo

er than Julian's messages and the mysterious gifts he continued to send her. It was as

r, glinting under the soft light from the lamp on her nightstand. She could almost hear Julian'

t pounded. Was this what she had been waiting

right in front of her. But