JULIETTE MOREAU doesn’t trust men.
After surviving her father’s attempt to kill her, she learned to rely on fury and fists, not faith. In the underground ring of White Oak, violence is the only language that makes sense.
CHRISTOPHER LANCESTER was never supposed to care.
White Oak’s golden painterboy hides his emptiness behind sarcasm, smoke, and art. But the loneliness he denies keeps bleeding onto the canvas, always shaping itself into her.
They despise each other. Yet every clash pulls them closer, reshaping hate into fixation and control into a forbidden kind of intimacy.
