Novels by Chloe

I leaned back as well, trying to mimick his movement . Tristan hadn’t stopped watching me, his gaze a mix of amusement and calculation, like he was waiting for my next move. I had to be careful , not too eager, but not too guarded either. He was playing his game, and I had to stay one step ahead. "I wonder," he said, breaking the silence, "how often you play these games." his voice thicker than before. Was he trying to seduce me or something?. I arched an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. "Games?" He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You know exactly what I mean." I took another sip of coffee, letting the moment stretch. "I think we’re both playing the same game, Tristan." i called his name , damn it sounded good on my lips. He seemed to consider that, his fingers tracing the rim of his cup. "Perhaps," he said softly. Then, after a pause, "But I’m curious , what’s your endgame?" I felt a slight tremor in my chest. His words were gentle, but the intent behind them was raz

--- a light pat of lip stain.... a careful diffusion of curls , a peek of cleavage..... I arrived at Lumiere Café ten minutes early, but Tristan was already there, seated by the window. The sight of him sent a wave of heat through me, despite the chilly morning. He looked relaxed, legs crossed, his arm draped casually over the back of his chair, his dark eyes already focused on me as though he had been waiting for this moment. I tugged my coat tighter around me, steeling myself before walking over. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I wasn’t going to let him get the upper hand so easily. "You're early," I said, sliding into the chair across from him. His gaze didn’t waver, pinning me in place with that intense, unreadable expression. "I prefer being prepared," he replied smoothly, his voice low, like velvet. "I like knowing what to expect." A small smile tugged at my lips. "And here I thought you enjoyed surprises." He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he gestured towa

My boots clicked as I walked down the sidewalk, a smirk crept my lips, I couldn't help but feel excited,paying for his coffee in return was just the right move to go for , very unexpected and bold. It would possibly knock him off balance. I adjusted my coat , feeling the morning chill get to me . I can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.I was starting to like my job. my head bobbed left and right as I waved down a taxi, feeling I couldn't stroll anymore cause of the cold. I rubbed my hands together vigorously trying to create warmth."you the girl from the papers?" I heard someone say.it was the driver...? "who?" I replied stopping my hands in their tracks."the girl from the papers , uh Kayla smith?" his voice grunted ."oh no " I replied with a slight chuckle feeling the awkwardness creep my cold spine." ah you do look quite similar though, you're pretty, I would've sworn you were her " "oh ? ....thank you?" I managed to say. pulling out some money and dropping on

--- Three days had passed since I had stormed into the mansion, leaving behind the dizzying whirlwind of the gala and Tristan’s infuriating absence. During that time, I had thrown myself into a series of distractions, determined to erase the sting of rejection from my mind. The first day, I indulged in a spa retreat, basking in luxury as I let the soothing hands of the masseuse work out the tension in my shoulders. I pampered myself with aromatic oils and calming facials was that made me feel like royalty, if only for a moment. I flipped through glossy magazines while sipping herbal tea, trying to ignore the nagging thoughts of Tristan and the chaos that had ensued since that night. The next day, I splurged on a personal chef, enjoying a lavish meal prepared just for me in the mansion’s expansive kitchen. The scent of truffle oil filled the air as I savored each bite, indulging in flavors that made me forget the harsh realities of my life. "This is what I deserve,"I told myse

--- I woke up to the softest sheets I’d ever felt, the kind that practically swallowed you whole. My eyes cracked open, and for a second, I forgot where I was. But then it hit me, fast and hard. This wasn’t my bed. My body jerked upright, my head whipping around as the memories of last night came flooding back—Tristan, Mr. Price, his arms around me pulling me away. *He saved me.* I gasped I hadn’t needed saving, or at least that’s what I kept telling myself. Yet, there I was, alone in a bed that wasn’t mine, in a room far too big and far too cold for comfort. I kicked off the covers and swung my legs over the side, my feet hitting cool marble. The room was massive, sleek, and sterile in that way only people with too much money could appreciate. It was the kind of place that screamed luxury, but it lacked warmth--just like the man who owned it. Tristan....where was he? I stood up slowly, feeling that familiar sting in my chest as I glanced around. No note. No sign

--- The world blurred again as I tried to focus, but everything felt off too bright, too loud. My heart pounded in my chest, sending blood rushing to my ears as Tristan’s hand stayed firm on my arm. He was calm, steady, in control. And fuck, wasn’t that ironic? Here I was, in a room full of people I was supposed to be conning.....and especially him, my damn target—and here he was saving me from whatever nightmare Mr. Price was dragging me into. God, if he knew. If he knew why I was really here, what I was planning... No. I couldn’t think about that now. Not with Tristan so close, his scent filling the space between us—clean and masculine, with a hint of something woodsy. It made my head spin in a completely different way than the drug that was making me feel , like I was sinking into quicksand. The auction hall buzzed around us, but it felt far away, like the entire room was fading into the background. It was just Tristan and me, his hand warm against my skin, grounding me,