The hottest man I've ever seen is now my new boss- and I'm stuck in a house with him... Until one of us cracks. I've got debt-yeah, I know, so does everyone else on Planet Earth. But the bills I'm paying keep my dad and my grandma alive. So it's pretty messed-up for Timofey Viktorov to use them as a threat to keep me under control. Not that he cares. As a billionaire CEO, he takes no prisoners in the boardroom. And as the don of the Viktorov Bratva, he takes no prisoners in real life, either. Which is why he has no qualms about extorting me into taking his deal. Live in my mansion... Care for my baby... Or suffer the consequences. But he's not the only one with an agenda. Timofey has skeletons in his closet-and I'm determined to dig them out. He's just as determined to keep me far away from the secrets of his past. The longer I'm in his house, the tenser things get. Every time we brush past each other in the hallway, something sparks. Every time we cross paths in the night, the ice grows thinner. Sooner or later, it's going to crack.
Piper
Thunder rumbles through the ground under my tired feet the moment I step out of work. If I wasn't so sick of hearing my own voice, I'd laugh. Or maniacally cackle. Whichever would more clearly denote that I am losing my ever-loving mind.
The world seems to agree, via brooding cinematic ambiance, that today sucks. A flash of lightning? The patter of raindrops turning into a steady downpour? Sure, why not? All the better to wash away the last of the day's hopes and dreams.
I lean out from under the threadbare awning and glance up at the dark sky. I'm not sure what I expect to see. Maybe a countdown clock in the clouds. Some sign of when the rain will end and I can resume my miserable life.
There's nothing, of course.
Thick clouds cover the waning moon and the streetlight outside the downtown Child Protective Services office is still burnt out, so it's eerily dark. I registered a complaint with the city four months ago, but the person in charge of replacing lights is probably as overworked as I am.
Still, all of that means it's dark outside.
"Like my soul," I quip quietly to myself.
Apparently, my week from hell hasn't stolen all of my wonderful qualities. My self-deprecating sense of humor is fully intact.
That being said, the guardian I dealt with today wouldn't find my joke especially funny. He'd probably call it accurate, actually.
Dark soul? More like a stone-cold bitch.
That's the thing about working for CPS: you're the face people associate with their child being ripped out of their arms.
It doesn't matter that the face of the child in question is filthy, scrawny, and covered in unexplained bruises.
It doesn't matter that the arms of the parent in question are studded with track marks from dirty needles.
They still think you're the bad guy.
Or, to quote yesterday's gem of a birth parent, a "raging bitch with shit for a heart and a bear trap for a coochie." As far as things go, that one was pretty good. I rated it a ten out of ten for creativity and submitted it to the office-wide "Best Insults" email thread.
"You should add that line to your dating profile," my boss, James, responded with a crying-laughing emoji.
What dating profile?I wanted to respond. But at some point, the self-deprecating humor isn't funny... or a joke, even.
I deleted my dating apps months ago, only a few weeks after downloading them post-break up. Hence why I am standing on the doorstep of work trying to muster the courage to ride my bike home in the dark. In a rainstorm.
Because there is no one else to call.
I don't have a boyfriend waiting for me at home anymore, Noelle is working tonight, and Ashley's car is the most compact of compacts. She went on a "save the world" kick last year when she got out of rehab and bought a used Smart Car online. Even if she were available, I'd rather ride home in the rain than jam myself into that death trap.
When the claustrophobia starts, it lasts for hours.
"Okay, Pipe," I say to myself, hopping lightly from one foot to the other to psych myself up. "Here we go. Make it home and you can take a shower and put on your pajamas and eat that frozen stuffed crust pizza in the freezer."
And die alone.
I groan at my own intrusive joke and shake out my shoulders. "It's just a ten-minute ride. Then this day will be over and you can relax. Ready, set-"
To try and trick my own brain, I skip "go" and leap out into the rain.
I'm glad I didn't bother with a hat or the cute-but-useless rain jacket I keep in the bottom drawer of my desk for occasions like this. Because this is a soaking rain. The kind that drenches you through and through the moment you step into it.
There is no protection from this.
I keep my eyes down at the ground as I run, making sure I don't trip on the uneven pavement or slip in a giant puddle. Looking around is pointless, anyway-no one is out in this deluge. Even if they were, I wouldn't be able to see them. Every time I lift my head, the rain blurs what little of my vision the dark hasn't already stolen.
I round the corner into the alley next to our building. There's a dingy orange security light attached halfway up the brick facade, but it doesn't offer light so much as a strong sense that I've stumbled into the apocalypse.
I kneel down in an orange puddle to unlock my bike.
"If I'd known it was going to rain, I would have carried you up the stairs," I say.
If maniacal laughter wasn't already a clue that I'm losing my mind, talking to my bike surely is. I fumble with the lock chain in the dark. My fingers are slippery from all the water, and when they slip and I accidentally bend a fingernail all the way back, I want to curl up in a ball and cry right then and there.
Shower. Pajamas. Pizza.
I repeat my evening plans like a mantra as I finally pop the lock free, loop it around the base of the sopping wet seat, and tug my bike away from the rack.
Then the world tips sideways.
Correction:someone tips my world sideways.
For a second, the hands around my throat blend in with the pounding rain. My brain is overloaded with things to notice, so when I'm yanked to my left and thrown unceremoniously into the garbage-filled stream of dirty water running down the alleyway, I'm confused.
"What the-"
"You fuckingcunt," a deep voice hisses.
That was definitely not the wind. Or the rain.
Panic lashes through me. Someone fists the wet material of my shirt and hauls me to my feet like I'm a sack of potatoes. I look back over my shoulder, but rain is pouring down my face and the man is backlit by the orange safety light.
So much for safety-I can't see shit.
I try to scream, but the man slams me against the brick wall. The air in my lungs leaves me in a whoosh.
"Not so tough now, eh?" He pins me in, crowding so close that he blocks some of the rain.
And for the first time, I get a good look at my attacker.
"I know you," I wheezed. "I-I-"
"You-you-," he mimics, his voice going unnaturally high. Then he lets out a deep, bitter laugh that isn't mirthful in the slightest. "You took my kid away from me."
Tom Thomas never thought he'd fall in love with the only girl he's ever befriended. Mira Tomic has issues with commitment after the ultimate betrayal. When Mira decides to make broody Tom's day better, she never thought she would end up friends with the hard man. Tom has never had a woman be so affectionate to him without expecting something in return. Tom and Mira cordially invite you to read Just Friends. A story of friendship, humour and love.
I pressed my lips against his and stole his sweet, savory taste, not ready to end the sweet moment. I licked my lips seductively and whispered. "Despite your age, I love you." Sarah was obsessed with the man of her dreams, despite knowing that their love was forbidden and would be disapproved by her father and others. She held onto the many beautiful dreams she had of being with him, wishing for them to come true. She found herself in love with her father's best friend, a very handsome man who had been rejected by his wife. Her desire was to show him what true love really meant. When her father received a job transfer,Sarah saw it as a perfect opportunity to be with him. The situation improved even more when she realized they would be living under the same roof.
Renea was trying the wedding dress, when suddenly the man rushed in the dressing room and held her neck tightly... “Bitch! Are you still trying to pretend innocent!” Jasper said as he tightened his grip on her neck and choked her harder. Then he used his other hand and took out the phone from his suit pocket and played the video of two people having sex in front of Renea… However, what was even more shocking, was that the woman in the video was, Renea Morris, however, the man in the video was not Jasper. Renea struggled to take a phone away from Jasper’s hand and tried to explain, “Jasper, it was not what you think… I… I can…” Jasper looked at Renea with his eyes full of disgust, as he said, “Let’s call of the wedding. I can’t marry a woman like you.” After saying that Jasper walked out of the shop Renea chase after Jasper... But then she sees Jasper passionately kissing her sister Kailey. And she hears everything, that her sleeping with strange men was all a plan of the vipers of the last two days, and that their goal was to get out of this stupid marriage. Even her adopted parents were also involved in this matter... They all do this with her because of the inheritance left by her grandfather... Renea heart was filled with anger and she wanted to expose their true colors to the public... However before she could do anything, Kailey had pushed her in front of the car and she got killed... However, when Renea open her eyes, she found herself sitting in the car with Kailey... She realized that she was reborn and went at the time when everything started... Renea looked at the people who had hurt her in her previous life and her lips curled up in a cold smile... She was back... However, this time... she was back for revenge...
Due to the plight of her family, Phoebe had no choice but to embark on the path of selling herself. In an accident, she had a tangled night with Alexander. Everything began to derail, and even if she fled to the ends of the earth, she would still be found by him and entangled... *** Phoebe screamed in frustration, "What do you want from me?" What was this supposed to be? He raised an eyebrow wickedly. "What do I want? You'll find out soon enough." With that, he hoisted her up and carried her back into the office. The door slammed shut with a kick, and he cleared the desk with a sweep of his arm before laying her down on it, his body pinning hers in place, completely trapping her in his grasp. Every cell in his body was telling him he wanted her. He wanted to claim her again. This time, there would be no escape for her-he wouldn't let her slip away. Never again. If he had suffered for five years, then this woman wouldn't get off easily either!
Melanie married Ashton out of gratitude, but she quickly found herself entangled in a web of relentless challenges. Despite these struggles, she stayed true to her commitment to the marriage. In the hospital room, Ashton indifferently attempted to draw her blood, disregarding her discomfort. This callous act was a harsh revelation for Melanie, awakening her to the grim reality of their relationship. Resolved to prioritize her own welfare, she decided to sever ties. With newfound resolve, Melanie filed for divorce. In the process, she unveiled her concealed identities, leaving everyone in shock. Throughout these turbulent times, Melanie realized that Derek, Ashton’s uncle, had been discreetly protecting her all along.
A sudden twist of fate connected Helena to a prominent and influential person. To onlookers, she appeared as a naive bimbo. In truth, she was a top-tier specialist, shrouded in layers of hidden identities. Charlie declared, “She’s quite delicate and easily hurt. Cross her, and you’re crossing me.” The elite families, outwitted by Helena's prowess, kept these truths from him. Helena eventually broke free from Charlie, sending him on a frenzied worldwide hunt. To him, she was a bird with dazzling wings, and his goal was to help her reach new heights.Â
"You're mine, little puppy," Kylan growled against my neck. A soft gasp escaped my lips as his lips brushed my skin. My mind screamed at me to push him away-the Lycan Prince who had humiliated me again and again, but my body betrayed me, leaning into him before I could stop myself. He pressed his lips against mine, and his kiss grew more aggressive, more possessive as I felt my legs weaken. What was I doing? In a split-second, I pulled away and slapped him hard across the face. Kylan's eyes darkened, but the smirk on his lips exposed his amusement. "You and I both know we can't fight this, Violet," he said, gripping my wrist. "You're my mate." "And yet you don't want me," I replied. "You told me you were ashamed of me, that l'd never be your queen, that you'd never love me. So please, accept my rejection and let me go." "Never," he whispered, his grip tightening as he pulled me closer. "Soon enough, you'll be begging for me. and when you do-I'll use you as I see fit and then I'll reject you."