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.
"Sign the divorce papers and get out!" Leanna got married to pay a debt, but she was betrayed by her husband and shunned by her in-laws. Seeing that her efforts were in vain, she agreed to divorce and claimed her half of the properties. With her purse plump from the settlement, Leanna enjoyed her newfound freedom. The constant harassment from her ex's mistress never fazed her. She took back her identities as top hacker, champion racer, medical professor, and renowned jewelry designer. Then someone discovered her secret. Matthew smiled. "Will you have me as your next husband?"
They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."
Life was perfect until she met her boyfriend's big brother. There was a forbidden law in the Night Shade Pack that if the head Alpha rejected his mate, he would be stripped of his position. Sophia's life would get connected with the law. She was an Omega who was dating the head Alpha's younger brother. Bryan Morrison, the head Alpha, was not only a cold-blooded man but also a charming business tycoon. His name was enough to cause other packs to tremble. He was known as a ruthless man. What if, by some twist of destiny, Sophia's path were to intertwine with his?
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."
Desperate to handle her grandmother's towering medical bills, Gianna agreed to a contract marriage with Tristan, the enigmatic man she'd once shared a one-night stand with. She assumed they'd fulfill each other's needs and dissolve the arrangement once the terms expired. Unbeknownst to Gianna, this marriage was a dream Tristan had clung to for ten relentless years. Certain she was just filling someone else's role, Gianna prepared to leave when that other woman returned. But Tristan, his eyes burning with unspoken emotion, seized her trembling hand and declared, "You’re mine. Now and always."
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!