Camilla walks into my study, and the air shifts. She's a distraction I can't afford, but fuck if I can resist her. Her fingers trace the edge of my desk, her eyes locked onto mine. "What are you doing, Camilla?" I growl, my control already fraying. She's a walking temptation, and she knows it. She smirks, her voice a sultry whisper, already undoing me. "Pushing your buttons, Zeke. Seeing how far I can go before you snap." My control falters. I spin her around, pressing her against the desk. My hands roam over her body, and I can feel her submitting. "You want this?" I ask, my voice a low growl. "You want to see the beast you're unleashing?" *** Camilla Dawson never expected to see the sinfully hot stranger she once hooked up with in a public washroom ever again. But fate—or rather, a father she never knew existed—has other plans. Now, she's bound and delivered as payment for a debt, straight into the hands of none other than Zeke Russell—the ruthless kingpin who always gets what he wants. Zeke built his empire on power and control, and he never takes no for an answer. Business or pleasure, the rules are his. It’s been years, but he’s never forgotten the woman who left him wanting more. Now, with Camilla thrust into his world as a replacement for his promised bride, everything spirals into chaos. She was never supposed to matter. Yet somehow, she’s slipping past his defenses, unearthing secrets he’s buried deep—and igniting a dangerous obsession. And when enemies close in, there’s nothing he won’t do to keep her. After all, what’s one more crime in the name of love?
View More"𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 ℑ 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔡."— 𝔲𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔫.[ZEKE]The crying is starting to piss me off.Elio’s wife hasn’t shut up since the bullet tore through her husband’s skull. It wasn’t even a messy shot—clean, precise, almost surgical. He didn’t suffer. I could’ve made it worse, but I’m not feeling particularly cruel today.I slide the gun back into my jacket, welcoming it back against my ribs like an old friend. My eyes trail lazily to the body on the floor. Elio’s eyes are wide open, lips parted like he still thinks he can talk his way out of this. He can’t. Not anymore.Marco crouches down beside him, clicking his tongue. “Carpet cost too much,” he mutters, poking at the blood pooling under Elio’s head. “Stupid prick couldn’t even bleed somewhere convenient.” Milo joins him, and together they carry the body outside. His wife in the corner is still sobbing—those dry, hiccuping cries that have lost their edge. That first wave of pani
"𝔗𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔪𝔢 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔦𝔡, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔩𝔢𝔱 𝔪𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔫𝔶𝔴𝔞𝔶."— 𝔈𝔡𝔤𝔞𝔯 𝔄𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔫 𝔓𝔬𝔢[CAMI]I wake up with a groan, my back sore, my legs too stiff to move. After blinking a few times, I notice the ceiling isn’t familiar at all. Propping myself up on my elbows, I lift myself, wincing. The dull throb in my head won’t stop. What the fuck is this place? I’m on a large round bed covered with the softest mattress, covered in a smooth red blanket, a water fountain being the view in front of me through floor to ceiling high windows. The light in the room is warm, just perfect—something I imagined I’d have in my apartment some day. But this is not my apartment, and I absolutely do not remember coming here. I dig my fingers into my hair, shutting my eyes to focus. To remember. It all rushes back in like an acid reflux. The strange man in the hat. Being grabbed from behind, smelling something that knocked me out. F
"ℑ 𝔰𝔞𝔴 𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠 𝔦𝔫 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰. 𝔇𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶, 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨, 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠." — 𝔑𝔦𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔢 𝔏𝔶𝔬𝔫𝔰[CAMI]The bass thrums through my veins as I sip my drink, leaning against the bar. The club is just loud enough, just wild enough—exactly what I need tonight. No overthinking, no stress, no impending disaster looming over me. Just music, a drink, and the chance to momentarily forget about the corporate world that I have to dive into again tomorrow.Claire leans into me, her blonde waves brushing against my shoulder as she nudges me with her elbow. “Cami, maroon shirt, two o'clock. He's staring at you.”I roll my eyes but can’t help the slight lift of my lips. Claire has this awful habit of playing matchmaker whenever we go out. Still, I glance over my shoulder, keeping it casual. And, well—hello, tall, dark, and fine. The guy oozes confidence, one corner of his mouth tilting into a smirk as he raises his glass in a silent toast. Then… he winks.Oh, fantastic. An
"𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔶 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔣𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔤𝔬 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔯."— 𝔲𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔫.Eight years later…[ZEKE]I don’t like being tricked. But what I hate even more is when something I don’t expect happens. There’s nothing more infuriating than being out of control. If only at a single step. Elio’s face blends well with the white interiors of the private hospital room by the time I get there with Marco. When my gaze lands on him, he visibly flinches, even though I have not yet fired the bullet. He’s probably pissed himself, but I ignore him for now, diverting my attention to the woman who’s living the last moments of her life. An unremarkable face, dark hair that's matted from the days of imprisonment—and even then I know she wouldn't stand out in a crowd. She’s fo
"𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔢, 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯, 𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔱, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰—𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢."— 𝔲𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔫.Fucking a stranger in the washroom of a hospital while my classmate’s stepfather lay dying in the ER has to be my worst sin. But let me back up a bit, because this story starts with a bang—well, not that kind of bang.It starts with me, Camilla Dawson, sitting in the hospital lounge, tapping my foot impatiently. I hate hospitals. The odd chemical smell, the beeping machines, the constant reminder of mortality. I promised myself I’d never set a foot here again after finally being free of the regular visits. But here I am, waiting for news about Claire’s stepfather, because that's what friends do.And maybe my presence here tonight will finally convince her that I care about her. I’ve failed to keep the act up lately.Truth be told, I think it's better if the man kicks the bucket. He's a total dick, always making Claire
"𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔢, 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯, 𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔱, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰—𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢."— 𝔲𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔫.Fucking a stranger in the washroom of a hospital while my classmate’s stepfather lay dying in the ER has to be my worst sin. But let me back up a bit, because this story starts with a bang—well, not that kind of bang.It starts with me, Camilla Dawson, sitting in the hospital lounge, tapping my foot impatiently. I hate hospitals. The odd chemical smell, the beeping machines, the constant reminder of mortality. I promised myself I’d never set a foot here again after finally being free of the regular visits. But here I am, waiting for news about Claire’s stepfather, because that's what friends do.And maybe my presence here tonight will finally convince her that I care about her. I’ve failed to keep the act up lately.Truth be told, I think it's better if the man kicks the bucket. He's a total dick, always making Claire...
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