Introduction My world revolved around JaxHarding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend.

From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down."

That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny.

But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded.

I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said."

Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hintshe' s pregnant. That should scare her off."

My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers.

I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal.

Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing.

As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury.

In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho."

How could the man I loved, whoonce saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me?

Why was my devotion seen as anannoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault?

Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred?

I would not be his victim.

Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done.

I blocked his number and everyone connectedto him, severing ties.

This was not an escape; this was my rebirth.

Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

Chapter 1 The air in Austin always feltthick with music, especially when The Night Howlers played.

I was sixteen, and Jax Harding was twenty-two.

He was my older brother Ben' s best friend, the lead guitarist.

Charismatic, a little distant.

I had a massive crush on him.

It wasn't just a crush; it felt like my whole world tilted when he was near.

I baked cookies for their rehearsals, the ones with extra chocolate chips, just how Jax liked them.

I drew their early gig posters, my pencil strokes filled with alonging I didn't know how to name.

I knew every lyric to every song he' d ever written.

My eighteenthbirthday.

I was a high school senior, my art school applications mailed, dreamsof New York City buzzing in my head.

But that night, only Austin mattered, only The Continental Club where The Night Howlers were tearing up the stage.

Ben snuck me a sip of champagne backstage after their set.

It tasted like rebellion and courage.

Enough courage to find Jax, his dark hair damp with sweat, a half-smile playing on his lips as he talked to a roadie.

My heart hammered.

"Jax?"

He turned, that cool gazelanding on me.

"Hey, Savvy. Happy birthday, kid."

The words tumbled out, a clumsy, heartfelt rush. "I really like you, Jax. I have for years."

Then, fueled by champagne and years of pent-up hope, I leaned in and kissed him.

It was quick, probably awkward.

He didn't pull away, but he didn't kiss me back either.

When I drew back, cheeks burning,he was looking at me with an amused, slightly surprised expression.

He ruffled my hair, agesture that felt both kind and dismissive.

"You're still a kid, Savvy."

My heart sank.

"But hey," he continued, a lazy drawl in his voice, a little slurred from the beer he was nursing. "When you graduate college and you're, like, twenty-two, if you still feel this way... maybe I'll finally be ready to settle down with a good girl. We'll see."

He said it lightly, almost like a joke.

But I grabbed onto those words like a lifeline.

Twenty-two. It sounded like a promise.

Four years.

I got into Pratt, graphic design.

New York City swallowed me whole, a whirlwind of classes, projects, and a constant, dull ache for Austin, for Jax.

His "promise"became my secret timeline.

I followed The Night Howlers' modest success from afar, their songs a soundtrack to my late-night study sessions.

I meticulously planned for my twenty-second birthday.

It wasn' t just a birthday; it was a deadline, a doorway.

I even designed a mock-up albumcover, a visual representation of the future I imagined for us.

Silly, I knew, but it felt important. A gift for him.

Twenty-two.

The day finallyarrived.

The Night Howlers were in NewYork for a small industry showcase, a chance to get signed.

My hands trembled as I clutchedthe "album cover" gift, wrapped carefully in plain brown paper.

They were having a pre-show meeting at a trendy bar on the Lower East Side.

I got there early, too eager, too nervous.

The bar was dimly lit, smelling of stale beer and new ambitions.

I spotted them in a semi-private booth near the back – Jax, Ben, the other bandmates.

And a woman I didn' t recognize, sharp-looking, leaning close to Jax.

I hesitated,not wanting to interrupt.

Then I heard Jax' s voice, low and complaining.

"Man, I can't believe Savvy's actually showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said years ago."

My blood ran cold.

Another bandmate, their drummer, chimed in. "Dude, you gotta shut that down. Chloe's gonna flipif she thinks you're leading on some college kid."

Chloe. That must bethe woman.

Jax sighed. "I know, I know. That's the plan."

His voice dropped a little, but I could stillhear every venomous word.

"Chloe Davenport, she' s our publicist, or trying to be. We're trying to impress her. She' s helping me stage a whole thing. I told her I needed a 'crazy fan' intervention."

A laugh,cold and cruel.

"We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off for good. Plus, Chloe thinks it'll make for a good 'settled rockstar' PR angle if we do get signed."

Ben. My brother. He sounded uncomfortable, a mumbled protest.

"Jax, man, that's harsh."

But he didn't push. Band peace, I guess. Or maybehe just didn't care enough.

The world tilted,not with a crush, but with nausea.

Devastation crashed over me, a physical blow.

The "album cover," my carefully crafted dream, slipped from my numb fingers.

It hit the sticky floor with a soft thud.

I turned and fled, out of the bar, into the sudden, cold New York rain.

Each drop felt like a tiny shard ofice against my skin.

The rain plastered my hair tomy face, blurring the city lights into meaningless streaks.

My mind reeled back, a stupid, painful reflex.

Years ago, a local music festival, a smaller version of SXSW. I was maybe fifteen, definitely too young to be backstage, but Ben had snuck me in.

The Night Howlers were just starting out, raw and hungry.

Chaos. Roadies yelling, equipment everywhere.

A heavy piece of stage lighting, precariously balanced, started to wobble.

I was right under it, mesmerized by Jax on stage during soundcheck.

Suddenly, strong hands grabbed my arm, yanking me back.

Jax.

He' d leaped off the low stage, his eyes wide with alarm.

The equipment crashedwhere I' d been standing a second before.

"You okay?" he' d asked, his voice rough.

I could only nod, heart pounding.

He' d pressed something into my palm. His lucky guitar pick.

"Stay outof trouble, kid."

That was it. The moment my silly crush solidified into something I thought was real, something worth waiting for.

That pick. I' dkept it in a little velvet box.

Now, the memory itself feltlike a betrayal.

All thoseyears.

The cookies, the posters, the late nights listening to their demos.

The way I' d structured my college life, my move to New York, all with that one distant, careless "maybe" from him as my North Star.

Every sacrifice, every choice, tingedwith the hope of him.

His words echoed, "Can't believe she's still hung up."

A burden.That' swhat I was.

My love wasn' t a gift; it was an annoyance, a problem to be managed with a cruel, staged lie.

A new path. I had tofind one. Away from him, away from this.

The thought was a tiny, flickering candle in the storm of my pain.

I fumbled for myphone, my fingers stiff and cold.

I needed to talkto Ben, to scream, to understand.

But what was there tounderstand?

Ben had been there. He' d heard Jax' s plan. His silence in that booth was a confirmation louder than any words.

He knew Jax was serious about Chloe. He knew Jax was going to breakmy heart, and he' d let it happen.

Maybe he even agreed withJax. Maybe I was just the annoying little sister.

A text message pinged.

Unknown number,but my stomach lurched. I knew.

It was Jax.

"Heard you were at the bar. Sorry if you overheard stuff. Things withChloe are serious. Best you move on."

Not an apology. Adismissal.

My carefully constructed fantasy life shattered into a million pieces.

Move on.

Yes.

I scrolled through my contacts, found Jax' s number, the one I knew by heart.

Blocked.

ThenBen' s.

Blocked.

I stumbled into my tiny apartment, dripping wateronto the worn wooden floor.

My eyes fell on the small velvet box on my dresser.

The lucky guitar pick.

I picked it up.It felt cold,alien in my hand.

A symbol ofa lie.

With a sudden, sharp movement, I threw it into the trash can, burying it under discarded sketches and coffee grounds.

The firststep.

Chapter 2 Jax figured Savvy' s quietdisappearance from the bar was some kind of tactic.

He thought she was smart, playing hard to get after overhearing him.

He didn' tget it, not really.

He couldn' t imagine the depth of her hurt.

He was more annoyed that she' d almost ruined hispre-show buzz with Chloe.

"See? Total headcase," he muttered to his bandmates after she' d gone.

"Good thing Chloe's got that plan," their bassist, Mark, said, always eager to agree with Jax.

"Yeah, engagement, baby, the whole nine yards. That'll send her running for the hills," Jax said, trying to sound confident for Chloe' s benefit, who was now looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

Chloe just smiled, a cool, calculating curve of her lips. "It' s good PR, darling. Rockstar findstrue love. Settles down. The labels eat that up."

Ben found me a few hours later, after their showcase.

I was huddled in my dorm room, tear-streaked and shivering, despite the heat blasting.

"Sav," he started, his voice hesitant. "Jax told me you were at the bar."

I didn't lookat him.

"He' s an ass, Sav. Whathe said, what he' s planning... it' s messed up."

"You didn't stophim," I whispered, my voice raw.

"I tried to talk to him before, when he first mentioned this 'scare Savvy off' idea with Chloe. But he wouldn't listen."

He ran a hand through his already messy hair. "He's completely snowed by Chloe. She wants into the industry, bad. And Jax... Jax thinks she' s his ticket, and maybe something more."

I remembered Jax in the booth, his eyes on Chloe, a look I' d never seen him give anyone.

A look I' d always dreamed he' d give me.

"He' s really with her, isn't he?" I asked, needingto hear it, to make it real.

Ben nodded slowly. "Yeah, Sav. He is. For a while now, pretty serious."

The words were like another punch to the gut.

He tried to say more, something about Jax being an idiot, about how I deserved better.

But Chloe called Jax' s phone then, her voice audible even from across the room where Ben had set it.

Jax, who had apparently come with Ben but lingered outside my door, picked up instantly.

"Hey, babe. Yeah, showcase went great... Yeah, I'm just checking onsomething... No, no, almost done."

His voice, so different from the one he used with me,even when he was being kind.

He poked his head in. "You good, Savvy?" Not really looking at me, his attention already halfway back to Chloe.

I just staredat him.

"Right. Well. Ben, Chloe wants to go celebrate. You coming?"

He was gone before Ben could even answer.

Ben sighed. "See? He' s obsessed. I tried to tell him you weren' t some psycho fan, that you genuinely cared. But his buddies, Mark andLee, they just egg him on. 'She's just a kid, Jax. Chloe's a woman.'"

It was clear. I was an inconvenience. A loose end.

The next day, I walked to the international student office.

My hands were steady as I filled out the application for the Florence study abroad program.

The scholarship I' d been offered earlier in the year, the one I' d almost dismissed because it meant being even further from Jax.

Now, it felt like an escape hatch.

Florence. Anew city,a new life.

As far away from Austin and Jax Harding as I could get.

A few days laterwas Ben's twenty-fifth birthday.

A party at some friend's upscale SoHo loft.

I didn't want to go. The thought of seeing Jax, of seeing them, made me feel sick.

But Ben pleaded. "Please,Sav. It' s my birthday.Just for a little while."

So I went, trying to paste on a brave face, my artfully ripped jeans and band t-shirt feeling like a costume.

The loft was crowded,loud, filled with people trying too hard.

And then I saw them.

Jax, with Chloe Davenport draped on his arm.

She was beautiful, in a sharp, glossy way. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, asmile that didn' t quite reach her eyes.

They made a beeline for me. My stomach twisted.

"Savvy!" Jax said, a little too brightly. "So glad you could make it.There's someone I want you to meet."

He gestured to Chloe. "This is Chloe Davenport. My fiancée."

Fiancée. The word hit me harderthan I expected, even though I knew it was part of the script.

Chloe extended a perfectly manicured hand. Her grip was firm, cool.

"Jax has told me all about you, sweetie," she said, her voice dripping with condescension.

"It's cute you had a little crush, but he's a grown man now. We're even thinking about starting a family soon."

She patted her flat stomach meaningfully.

"You'll find someone your ownage, I'm sure."

Chapter 3 I forced a smile. "Congratulations, you two. I wish you all the best."

My voice sounded surprisingly steady.

Jax looked relieved. Chloe' s smile tightened, just a fraction.

Then Mark and Lee, Jax' s bandmates, swaggered over, beers in hand.

"Hey, Savvy! Remember all those cookies you used tobake for us?" Mark jeered.

"And those posters? 'The Night Howlers conquer Austin!'" Lee added, mimicking a dramatic voice.

They laughed, loud and obnoxious.

"She was our number one fan girl, weren't you, Savvy?"

"Such an adorable crush," Mark said, winking at Chloe. "Good thing our Jax is all grown up now."

The industry types nearby chuckled.

I felt my face burn. Utterly, completely humiliated.

Jax just stood there, a faint, uncomfortable smirk on his face.He didn't say a word to stop them.

He didn'tcare.

It hit me then. All those years, his tolerance of my presence, my constant orbiting around him and the band, it was because of Ben.

Ben was his best friend,his bandmate. He put up with the little sister.

Now, he had Chloe. He didn't need to put up with me anymore.

He wanted me gone. This whole charade was to make sure of it.

I mumbled an excuse and turned away, needing to escape.

The sadness was a heavyweight in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I found a quiet corner by a large window overlooking the city.

"Rough night?"

Chloe Davenport was beside me, holding two glasses of champagne. She offered one to me.

I shook my head. "No,thank you."

"Look," she said, her voice softer now, almost conspiratorial. "Jax can be a bit of an idiot.Those guys are jerks. Don't let them get to you."

I just lookedat her.

"I meant what I said, Chloe. I'm happy for you both. I'm moving on with my life."

She took a sip of her champagne, her eyes appraising me.

"Are you? You know, Jax talks in his sleep sometimes. He used to mumble your name. A lot."

My breath hitched. What wasshe playing at?

"He felt guilty, I think. Leading you on with that 'wait till you're twenty-two' crap."

She shrugged. "Or maybe he actually liked the attention from the sweet little art girl."

Her smile was back, sharp and knowing.

Before I could respond, there was a sudden, loud creaking sound from above.

We both looked up.

A massive art installation, a heavy metal sculpture, was suspended from the ceiling.

It was swaying.

Dangerously.

People started to scream.

Instinctively, Jax, who had appeared from nowhere, grabbed Chloe, pulling her roughly out of the sculpture's direct path.

He didn'teven glance my way.

The sculpture crashed down wit metal and shattering plaster.

I wasn't directly under it, but a large, jagged piece brokeoff, spinning through the air.

Pain exploded in my leg, a searing, blinding agony.

Another blow near my collarbone.

Then,darkness.

I woke upin a hospital room.

The smell of antiseptic and fear.

Ben was there, his face pale,eyes red-rimmed.

"Savvy? Oh, God, Savvy, I'm so sorry." He looked like he was about to cry.

"What happened?" My voice was a croak.

"The sculpture... it fell. You got hit. Your leg is broken, pretty badly. And you have a deepcut here." He gently touched his own collarbone.

He looked furious. "Jax... he just stood there with Chloe. Didn't even look back after he pulled her clear."

I processed that. Jax saved Chloe. Of course, he did. She was his fiancée, his future.

I was just... Savvy.

It didn't even hurt anymore, that realization. It was just a fact.

"It's okay, Ben,"I whispered. "He chose. It's fine."

It solidified everything. My decision to leave.

Ben looked at me, his eyes full of a pain that mirrored my own, but also a simmering anger.

"It's not fine, Sav. None of this is fine."

But I knew, with a chilling certainty, that it was over. Whatever I thought I had with Jax, whatever future I had dreamed of, was gone.

And I was strangely calm.

I was going to Florence. I would heal. I would build a new life.

Secretly, I started making the real plans, the ones that involved plane tickets and a one-way journey.

Chapter 4 Chapter 4 Jax showed up at the hospital the next day.

I was propped up in bed, my legin a heavy cast, a throbbing ache radiating from my collarbone.

"Hey," he said, lingering awkwardly by the door.

He looked tired, a littleguilty maybe.

I kept my face neutral. "What do you want, Jax?"

"Ben told me what happened. That you were hurt. Chloe felt terrible."

Chloe. Ofcourse.

"I'm fine," I said, my voice flat. I didn't want his pity, or Chloe's.

I tried to shift, to hide the Florence travel brochures I'd been looking at on my bedside table.

He noticed themovement. His eyes narrowed.

"What are you hiding?" he asked, a hint of suspicion in his tone. "More fan art?"

He thought I was still that obsessed kid.Maybe he always would.

"It's nothing," I said.

"Chloe asked me to check on you," he said, as if thatexplained his presence. "She's worried about, you know, lawsuits. The loft owner is a friend of her dad's."

So, this wasn't about me. It was damage control.

My heart, alreadybruised, felt another dull throb.

"Tell Chloe not to worry. I'm not suing anyone."

I kept my voice cold, distant. I wanted him gone.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Look, Savvy, about the party..."

"It's forgotten," Icut him off.

He seemed surprised by my coldness.

Then, a flicker of something else. "You need anything? Water? Help with the... pillows?"

It was a reluctant offer,almost forced.

"I'm fine," Irepeated.

But the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through my leg. I winced.

He stepped forward. "Here, let me."

"I don't need your help, Jax."

He ignored me, reaching for the pillows behind my head.His fingers brushed my hair.

For a second, it was like old times, a phantom echo of the boy who' d given me a guitar pick.

Then Chloe walked in.

"Jax, darling? Oh, Savvy,you're awake."

She glided to his side, possessively tucking her arm through his.

Jax immediately straightened up, moving away fromme as if I were contagious.

"Chloe was just worried," he said, his voice instantly warmer, softer, for her.

The sudden shift in his attention, his complete abandonment of me mid-gesture, made me lose my balance as I tried to readjust myself.

My injured leg twisted.

A sharp cry escaped my lips. Pain, white-hot, shot up my thigh.

Chloe tutted. "Oh, dear.Clumsy. Jax, maybe youshould help her properly."

Her concern was paper-thin.

Jax looked torn for a split second, his eyes darting between me and Chloe.

Then he shook his head. "Nah, I can't. We're, you know, engaged. Wouldn't look right, me fussing overanother girl. Especially with the wedding so soon."

He actually said that. Publicly.

My jaw tightened.The humiliationwas a fresh wave.

Chloe smiled sweetly at me. "He's just being proper, sweetie. Old-fashioned. He wouldn't want to give anyone the wrong idea, especially after your... well, your little crush."

Her eyes gleamedwith a triumphthat made me sick.

I looked straight at her, then at Jax.

"Don't worry about wrong ideas, Chloe. I'm perfectly aware of your... relationship. And frankly, I don't care anymore."

Just then, a nurse bustled in, her bright scrubs a stark contrast to thetense atmosphere. "Alright, Miss Miller, doctor's orders. A little change of scenery. The sunroom is lovely this time of day. It'll do you good."

The idea of escaping the claustrophobic room, of getting away from them, was a lifeline. "Yes, please."

Chloe seized the opportunity, her voice dripping with false concern. "Oh, what a wonderful idea! We'll come with you, won't we, Jax? Make sure she's settled in comfortably."

I didn't have the energy to protest as the nurse helped me into a wheelchair. Jax and Chloe followed us out of the room and down the hall, their presence a heavy weight behind me.

The path to the sunroom led through the main lobby, a large, airy space with a ridiculously ornate decorative fountain gurgling in the center. The floor around it was slick with moisture.

As we passed it, Chloe stopped, blocking my path. Sheopened her mouth, maybe to deliver another patronizing line, maybe even to let slip more of their "plan."

She took a step back, gesturing animatedly, and her heel caught on the uneven edge of a wet floor tile.

She yelped, arms flailing, and then she was falling.

Right into the decorative fountain.

Splash.

Jax whirled around. "Chloe!"

He hauled her out, drippingand sputtering.

Then he turned on me, his face a mask of fury. I was still in the wheelchair, helpless.

"What did youdo?" he snarled, advancing.

"Me? I didn't do anything!"

"You tripped her! You're jealous, you psycho!"

He was actuallyaccusing me. After everything.

And then, he did something I never thought Jax, my Jax, the boy who saved me from falling equipment, would ever do.

He shoved me. Hard.

Not my body, but the wheelchair itself. He grabbed the handles and violently pushed.

The chair shot backwards, unbalanced. My good leg slipped on the wet tiles from Chloe's splash as I tried to regain control.

The wheelchair tipped, and I was falling too, into the cold, shallow water of the fountain.

The shock stole my breath. My casted leg hit the bottom with a jarring thud.

Pain, again. Overwhelming.

Jax stood over me, glaring, his chest heaving. Chloe was clinging to him, looking shocked but also strangely satisfied.

"You ever, EVER, touch her or try anything with her again," Jax growled, his voice dangerously low, "and I'll make you regret the day you were born, Savvy Miller. Stay away from us."

I couldn't swim with the heavy cast. I couldn't even get my footing in the tipped wheelchair.

I was floundering, water filling my mouth, my wound near my collarbone stinging fiercely.

I saw red bloom in the water around my white cast.

My blood.

He was going to let me drown.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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The mag-lev train roars beneath me, wind tearing at my hair as I crouch on the narrow ledge, clutching a data-slate like a lifeline.

A thousand feet below, New York's skyline blurs into streaks of light.

My fingers ache from cold, but the burn in my chest is worse—the echo of Jax's voice, cold and cruel: "Can't believe Savvy's still hung up on that stupid thing I said."

I press myself against the carriage wall as footsteps approach inside.

Corporate security.

They're hunting me now.

The stolen files on this slate could ruin Jax, expose the fake engagement, the staged betrayal, the way he left me bleeding in that fountain.

But do I want ruin—or freedom?

Ahead, the maintenance hatch glows faintly in the rain.

A dangerous climb down into the unknown.

Behind, the passenger door slides open—revealing Jax himself, eyes blazing, hand outstretched.

"Savvy! Don't do this!"

He wants the slate.

Or he wants control.

Maybe both.

My pulse hammers.

Do I trust the man who shattered me?

Do I vanish into the storm?

Or do I fight back—right here, right now?