I should have never turned her away. So many years have passed, and she's back in my life. But our parents dating for a while left me refusing her. And she left for the romantic city of Paris. My pretty girl becoming a ballerina. Forever gone. But life has a way of taking things full circle. Due to an injury, she's back in our small town. My second chance to make things right stares me in the face. She's all grown up, and still stealing my every thought. But I can't compete with her dreams. Letting her go is what's required of me, and I do it, but not without cost. Never in a million years did I expect her to take a gift with her. A secret. My baby.
Audrey
I went through the line of stretches with the rest of the ballerinas, trying not to wince as the final stretch tugged my ankle in an uncomfortable way. It had been bothering me for a few weeks now, ever since I rolled it during one of our performances.
That had been so embarrassing. It had happened on stage, in full view of the audience. I'd stumbled and barely recovered in time to keep dancing.
All those years of practice paid off, though. No matter how much my ankle hurt, I was able to finish out the routine with everyone else. I was sure adrenaline had something to do with it because the moment I walked off stage, I nearly collapsed with pain.
I couldn't let anyone know about it. We were coming up on the final show of the season, and if I could just make it until then, I could give it a rest, at least for a little while. Of course, I'd need to keep training and making myself stronger for the coming season, but I was sure that I could talk to a trainer and come up with a plan that would work.
If the director found out about my injury now, though, he would want me to sit out the final show, and that just wasn't going to happen.
I had been working toward this my whole life. I had left North Carolina behind the moment I graduated high school, taking off for Philadelphia to train at a conservatory there. Then, I'd been lucky enough to land a series of dream jobs working on different shows. But here at the Global Traveling Dance Academy of Performing Arts in Paris? That was above and beyond anything that I could ever have hoped for.
It had been two long and grueling years of practice, but all those hours of training, showing up early, listening to the director, smiling, and everything had finally paid off. I had worked my way up through the crew and landed the role that I wanted for this show.
I wasn't going to give that all up because of a stupid twisted ankle.
"Hey, Audrey, we're going to go to that gallery opening tonight if you'd like to join us," Sarah said as we wrapped up practice.
I slung my bag over my shoulder. A gallery opening meant plenty of standing around, and even though I could favor my uninjured ankle, I knew it would exhaust me. Better that I rest up, ice it, keep it elevated, and keep weight off it. I was disappointed because we'd been talking about this gallery opening for weeks now, but I wasn't going to let my social life come between me and my career.
I faked a yawn. "Honestly, I'm pretty beat," I said. "Think I'm just going to head home and go check things out another time. You ladies have fun, though."
Sarah groaned. "You're such a grandmother!" she said.
The other girls laughed, and I shrugged ruefully. Fortunately, Helene spoke up. "I am also a grandmother, I think," she said, grinning at me. "Because Audrey is right. All I want tonight is a bubble bath!"
There were more giggles, and I was glad to hear that I wasn't the only person who didn't want to go out that night. Part of hiding my injury meant making sure that none of the girls knew what was going on either.
It wasn't that I didn't trust them or that I wasn't good friends with all of them. To be honest, I had a feeling that they could all tell what was going on anyway. All of them had been dancing alongside me for over a year now, most of them for nearly two years. There wasn't much turnover in this kind of crew.
But the fewer people who knew what was going on, the better. The fewer of them who had any details about what was wrong, the fewer people who could accidentally share something with the director.
If I had been the only person to opt out on tonight's gallery opening, everyone would start to wonder if I was sick or what. And if they put two and two together and realized I was injured, well, that could be dangerous.
It seemed like the coast was clear for now, though.
Then the director himself pulled me into his office as I was on my way out of the building.
"Is everything all right?" I asked, trying to keep the cheer in my voice as he shut the door carefully behind us.
He sighed as he sat behind his desk. "Audrey," he said in his cut the crap tone of voice, the one that he normally only used when someone gave him lame excuses for why they were late.
I wracked my brains for any other reason that he could have brought me in there. Surely, he didn't realize that I was injured. I had done a good job of hiding it. Maybe he just wanted to talk to me about that performance. About the stumble.
If it had been embarrassing for me as a dancer, it must have been just as embarrassing for him as the director. He wanted a show that was flawless. Dancers, he liked to tell us, should look at all times as though they floated on water. Dancers, true dancers, weren't supposed to stumble.
When I didn't say anything, the director shook his head. "I know that you're injured," he finally said.
I felt my blood run cold, but I managed to pull out the response that I had prepared in case he ever caught on. I gave a small laugh. "You know how important my career is to me," I told him. "If there was anything seriously wrong, you know that I'd go to the academy's physician to get checked out."
In actual fact, I'd done my best not to limp out of there the night that I was injured. I knew that it wasn't broken, but I also knew that it hurt more than any injury that I'd ever had before. Not that I'd had many serious injuries. I'd been lucky, I'd been careful, and I made sure to do my stretches and my exercises even on my days off.
I knew that as soon as I got checked out by the academy's physician, my season was probably going to be over. If nothing else, he was going to tell me that I needed to take a week or two off to let myself rest, to let sore muscles heal and all of that.
That would mean that someone would step into my place, though, and that I probably wouldn't get to dance the final show of the season. And that meant that next year when they were assigning roles, they might give me something a little less "strenuous."
So instead, I'd gone to one of my friends who happened to be a doctor.
"It's not good," he said, pursing his lips. "You shouldn't dance on this." He moved my ankle from side to side, and I tried not to wince.
"But I could dance on it?" I asked him.
"You shouldn't," he repeated. "It would be very painful, I think."
"But would it make things any worse?" If it was just a matter of pain, I had spent my whole life dealing with the pain that came with dancing. Did he think that cramming my feet into ballet shoes was comfortable? Heck no! But at the end of the day, it was worth it, and I was sure that this would be as well.
The doctor pursed his lips. "I don't think so," he finally said. "You won't make it better by dancing on it, but you won't make it worse either, probably. But I wouldn't recommend it."
I flashed a smile at him. "That's all I needed to know."
Back in the present, the director was giving me a look. "Audrey," he said again. "I can tell that something must be wrong with it. It's been weeks now, and you're still favoring your left ankle. Why haven't you gone to see the physician?"
I looked down at my hands, feeling ashamed. "I saw a doctor," I admitted. "Not the academy one but another one. He said that it would be fine to dance on. That I probably won't make it worse."
The director shook his head. "That's not good enough," he said. "And quite frankly, I don't like that you tried to hide this from me." He paused. "I know that this dance troupe is important to you, but you know that your health and the health of all of my dancers is my priority over anything else. I won't take responsibility for this injury sidelining you for the rest of your life. You're too young for a career-ending injury."
"This won't be that," I protested. "I really did have it checked out. It's sore, but there's nothing broken or torn. It'll be fine soon. Really."
"That's not good enough," the director repeated, shaking his head. "I'm sending you on a six-month recovery leave."
This guy could offer me the moon, and I’d hand it right back. Never in a million years did I expect to run into the biggest crush of my childhood. But, of course, I have. And I’m reporting to him at the new company I landed a big-time job at. Arrogant. Hot as hell. Total jackass. Why he’s still single is no mystery to me. He’s not willing to settle down. He’s always been that way, and as far as I’m concerned, he always will be. But, boy, is he beautiful to look at. Every part of me screams "run" as my insides turn to mush. No. Not me too… Not again. I should be immune by now. I know him far too well to fall into this hopeless pit of adoration again. But maybe there’s a way around it. It’s his power that drives me over the edge of insanity. If I were the boss instead of him, I’d hold all the cards. Good thing I’m always up for a challenge. Funnily enough, this guy thinks he’s going to score. He might have to redefine what getting lucky looks like after me. At least, that’s the plan.
Ethan Lewis has been in the bright lights for as long as he can remember. He’s just turned the cusp of celebrating his twenty-fourth birthday, and yet he feels more like eighty. Living the life of a celebrity isn’t all it is chalked up to be, and dealing with the unruly number of women who are more interested in his billions than who he is as a person is getting old. He has resigned himself to giving up on love and focusing on the only thing that truly gives back – his career. Riley Phillips has always dreamed of being on a big stage with the warmth of the spotlight baring down on her, but she just couldn’t seem to catch the right agent’s attention. After giving a quick commencement speech as Valedictorian of her graduating class at Billmore High, she’s offered something she can’t refuse... The chance to work in Hollywood. It’s not all it’s chalked up to be, but she works hard and finally gets her big break four years down the line. There is a new movie that her agent wants her to audition for, and her co-star? The dreamy Ethan Lewis. She scores the part, but soon regrets it due to his callous, overbearing persona. He’s nothing like the public touts, and she for one isn’t impressed. Funny enough, he is - immensely. This is book 1 in a continued series. All books are available
He said I couldn’t do it, but he was wrong. An old professor at UCLA promised me that I would make nothing of myself, so I made sure I did. To the tune of billions. I’m only a little cocky about it. Yachts, parties, and one-night events pretty much spell out my life. And all of it works well until I run into a beauty I can’t get out of my head. But we’re keeping it friendly and casual until we aren’t. There’s just one problem. Her old man hates me. And for good reason. He was my UCLA professor. He’s dead set against me becoming anything important to his little girl, but the old man’s got it all backward. I’m not looking to make an example out of our passion or prove a point. This isn’t about hit it and quit it. His daughter is mine, and he might kick me out, but she’s letting me all the way in.
My Needs. My Demands. Your Pleasure. You're Welcome. She had one year left of college when our parents got married. And thanks to being raised in poverty, she needed help with her expenses. My dad, being the benevolent billionaire, stepped up without question. But there was a catch. She had to intern at the firm for a year. With me. As her boss. Poor sweet little thing. She has no clue what she’s up against, but she’ll figure it out soon. I don’t play typical games, but the ones I do play, I always win. And regardless of how taboo our relationship might become, I’m all in. The reward is worth the risk. I just hope she can keep up with my many demands.
He’s going to make me break my number one rule. And possibly lose my job. How dare he? It’s pretty simple, though. Don’t date students. Which is normally easy to stick to. Who wants to date an eighteen-year-old boy? Not me. I much prefer an older man with rough hands that knows what he’s doing. Enter Mr. Evans. A single father billionaire with more time on his plate than he knows what to do with. And the man is brilliant and wickedly delicious. Much to my surprise, he’s quickly becoming my star pupil, which means he gets more of my time than necessary. But I can’t help myself. He’s exactly what I need in my life, in my bed, kissing me at the stroke of midnight… And the best is even though he’s older than me, he’s more than willing to let me teach him a few new tricks. Let's just hope we don't get caught.
I need a wife. Now. It doesn’t have to do with love and living the good life. This is all about getting the money my billionaire father left to me. And I’m running out of time. But who proposes to a stranger after the first date? Me. That’s who. As if I have another choice. Luck is on my side though, and a beautiful model shows up in my office. Single? Gorgeous? Funny? All of the above. Our first date goes so well that I feel unsure about my decision to do this thing with her—you know, fake it. I put it off and decide to do it later, to ask for her help after we get to know each other better. But I like her more and more each time we meet, and eventually, offering her a ring isn’t for my dad’s money—it’s because I want her more than anything else in the world. Besides, who’s going to know if it’s fake or real? And does it really matter? Yeah. It does.
Her fiance and her best friend worked together and set her up. She lost everything and died in the street. However, she was reborn. The moment she opened her eyes, her husband was trying to strangle her. Luckily, she survived that. She signed the divorce agreement without hesitation and was ready for her miserable life. To her surprise, her mother in this life left her a great deal of money. She turned the tables and avenged herself. Everything went well in her career and love when her ex-husband came to her.
Natalie used to think she could melt Connor’s icy heart, but she was sorely mistaken. When at last she decided to leave, she discovered that she was pregnant. Even so, she chose to quietly leave his world, prompting Connor to mobilize all of his resources and expand his business to a global scale—all in a bid to find her. But there was no trace of Natalie. Connor slowly spiraled into madness, turning the city upside down and leaving chaos in his wake. Natalie finally surfaced years later, with wealth and power of her own, only to find herself entangled with Connor once again.
Darya spent three years loving Micah, worshipping the ground he walked on. Until his neglect and his family's abuse finally woke her up to the ugly truth-he doesn't love her. Never did, never will. To her, he is a hero, her knight in shining armour. To him, she is an opportunist, a gold digger who schemed her way into his life. Darya accepts the harsh reality, gathers the shattered pieces of her dignity, divorces him, takes back her real name, reclaims her title as the country's youngest billionaire heiress. Their paths cross again at a party. Micah watches his ex-wife sing like an angel, tear up the dance floor, then thwart a lecher with a roundhouse kick. He realises, belatedly, that she's exactly the kind of woman he'd want to marry, if only he had taken the trouble to get to know her. Micah acts promptly to win her back, but discovers she's now surrounded by eligible bachelors: high-powered CEO, genius biochemist, award-winning singer, reformed playboy. Worse, she makes it pretty clear that she's done with him. Micah gears up for an uphill battle. He must prove to her he's still worthy of her love before she falls for someone else. And time is running out.
When Zora was sick during the early days of her pregnancy, Ezrah was with his first love, Piper. When Zora got into an accident and called Ezrah, he said he was busy, when in actual fact, he was buying shoes for Piper. Zora lost her baby because of the accident, and throughout her stay at the hospital, Ezrah never showed up. She already knew that he didn't love her, but that was the last straw for the camel's back, and her fragile heart could not take it anymore. When Ezrah arrived home a few days after Zora was discharged from the hospital, he no longer met the woman who always greeted him with a smile and cared for him. Zora stood at the top of the stairs and yelled with a cold expression, "Good news, Ezrah! Our baby died in a car accident. There is nothing between us anymore, so let's get a divorce." The man who claimed not to have any feelings for Zora, being cold and distant towards her, and having asked her for a divorce twice, instantly panicked.
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.
As a simple assistant, messaging the CEO in the dead of night to request shares of adult films was a bold move. Bethany, unsurprisingly, didn't receive any films. However, the CEO responded that, while he had no films to share, he could offer a live demonstration. After a night filled with passion, Bethany was certain she'd lose her job. But instead, her boss proposed, "Marry me. Please consider it." "Mr. Bates, you're kidding me, right?"