KIERAN’S POV
I saw the first charge on my phone just as I was unlocking the car.
Then the second.
And the third.
By the time I slid into the driver’s seat, my black card had racked up more activity than it usually saw in a month.
My phone kept vibrating as transaction notifications rolled in—one from a luxury boutique downtown, another from a high-end floral shop, then a long, confusing list of vendors ranging from party decorators to candle artisans.
I gripped the steering wheel with one hand and scrolled with the other, trying to make sense of the mess. Makeup counters. Custom stationery. Caviar. A damn harpist.
What the actual fuck?
My mind flashed immediately to Celeste.
She’d only just moved in, and already, she was treating my card like it had no limit. Which—technically—was true. But even I was alarmed by the rate at which she was burning through my resources.
