Roxy’s POVRosie’s phone buzzed, biting into our conversation. She glanced down, face scrunching up like she just bit into a lemon.“What?” I asked, already sensing the drama.“Nothing,” she muttered, stuffing her phone in her pocket. “It’s just Tommy canceling on me again... off to suck face with Rad.”Yup. Tommy Island. AKA Bad Tommy. The new guy who turned into a school jock overnight and somehow ended up Rosie’s boyfriend. For now. Hopefully not forever. Honestly, the guy’s only real talent is hurting her.I raised an eyebrow. “If you know he’s sucking face with Rad, why are you still with him?”“Because I like him,” she said, but even she didn’t sound convinced.“And since when does liking someone mean letting them treat you like crap?” I shot back.“We are not talking about me, Roxy,” she deflected fast, leaning forward. “We’re talking about you and your hot daddy crush. So… Aaron West really looks like Chris Hemsworth?”I pointed at her with two fingers. “Look at you, changing
Roxy’s POVCatherine Bennett—my overbearing mother was always right. Every time she said I would get into trouble, I always did.I remember this one time when I was sixteen.There was this house party. Big one. Everyone was going. I wanted to go so bad. My mom said no, of course.“It’s a bad idea, Roxy,” she warned me. “You’ll end up in trouble. I can feel it.”But I didn’t listen.I waited until she fell asleep, changed out of my pajamas, and snuck out the window like some rebellious movie girl.The party was wild—music, lights, drinks I wasn’t supposed to touch. At first, I felt free. Cool. Like I finally belonged.Then the cops came.Someone called about the noise. People screamed, ran everywhere. I panicked. I tried to run too, but I tripped on the steps and scraped my knees. The cops caught me and called my mom.She showed up with Dad lin her robe and slippers. Silent the whole ride home. That was worse than yelling.When we got inside, she said one thing:“Didn’t I tell you?”Ye
Roxy’s POVI was trying so hard to shut down the picture Sarah had planted in my head.Aaron West.Sex.God, why would she say that to me?She’s my professor for crying out loud. I am not supposed to have a picture of her husband in the most indecent way plastered in my brain, yet here it is. All thanks to her.No wonder Rosie thinks she’s creepy. I mean, who does that? Who casually drops something like that into a conversation with a student?“He’s a god in that department,” she said, like it was just some fun little fact.Yikes.Now it was stuck in my head like gum in hair. I had to shake it off before I lost my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about him—his voice, his hands, his everything. Ugh.Focus, Roxy. Focus.I still had another problem to fix, and that problem’s name was Nick Burke.The sun was already low when I got to the football field. The sky looked like a painting—orange, pink, soft purple—and the long shadows stretched across the grass. Nick was on the field, practicing
PROLOGUE Roxy’s POV “Does this make you uncomfortable, baby?" His voice is like smoke in my ear heating up my whole body. "No... Daddy, never with you." I say in a hush whisper and I feel his body tense against mine. “I like how you call me Daddy… and still make me feel like a boy around you. Restless. Impatient. Like I don’t know what to do with myself.” “I like how you call me baby,” I whisper, “and still make me feel like a woman. Desired. Dangerous.” “But I’m too old for you, baby…” Yet he’s already pulling me closer, mouth brushing the corner of mine, the tip of his nose trailing down my jaw before he buries it in my hair like he needs the scent to survive. My body trembles, a slow, tantalizing shiver rushing down my spine. I bite my lip, breathless. “You’re not too old. You’re just right. Right for me. Right now.” His hand moves, slow and possessive—fingertips gliding over my blouse until his thumb finds the sensitive peak of my nipple. He presses just enough for me to
Roxy’s POV Four months ago, everything changed. It wasn’t the grief that broke me. It wasn’t even the nightmares, or the way I’d wake up gasping his name like I could pull him back from the dead. It was her. I used to wonder what she felt after it happened. Guilt? Remorse? Even a flicker of regret? But I was so stupidly, painfully wrong. Because one week after the hit-and-run, she was living her best life—unbothered, and unapologetic. She was going on an anniversary date! with her baby! And I? I was choking on grief, drowning in it. That was the moment something in me snapped. “So what’s your plan? Just walk in there and kill her?” Rosy, my younger sister, shot her eyes at me, her arms crossed over her chest. I was exploring clothes in my wardrobe, picking out the dress for my first day at the South Carli University. “Ofcourse not” I roughnecked her, “I am not a killer. I only plan on making her suffer….This or this…” I held up two gowns, a black A line gown and
Roxy’s POV Panic. A state of uncontrolled fear, written all over Catherine Bennett’s face. It was familiar but still exhausting. “Explain it to me Roxy, why you would ditch your Stanford scholarship after a year and settle for Gould, I do not get it.” Catherine Bennett, my helicopter mother, screams at the top of her voice. I was actually scared she would snap a vein. Someone needs to avenge Lucas and it’s up to me. I didn’t say that out loud though. I said this instead. “Gould is not bad mom.” I cross one leg over the other and cross both arms over my chest, ready for her 360. “But it is not Stanford and you had a scholarship, how do you intend to pay for school, huh?” “I have some money saved up,” Over 5000 bucks from tutoring rich kids at Standford. Bunch of kids who had a lot of money and nothing subsubstantial to do with it. It’s not much but it’s a start. “And I plan on working….. and there are loans.” I say simply. “You hate working Roxy… you detest it. The only t
Roxy’s POV My face flourished with mild make up, pink blush and lipstick, my light Olive skin gleamed, all thanks to my newly acquired beauty products and my hair was gathered in a pineapple updo, with well laid edges and thanks to my curl-enhancing product, my curls were defined and voluminous dangling down my high ponytail. My revenge glam was activated. “Roxette Benette.” The clerk called and I rushed to her standing desk. I had been waiting for over thirty minutes, and I was starting to get hijacked by nerves. “Good day Ma’am” I rested my elbows on the desk, taking her face squarely. “You transferred from Stanford?” It sounded like both a question and a fact. She had only just let her head up the computer, with an astonished look. “Yes” I smile. “Why?” Her face wrinkled like a squeezed orange. She looked like she pitied me. My lips moved but I couldn’t find the words. Where is the lie, Roxy? Find it! “My uh…. father is dying, terminal disease.” I make a crying impression w
Roxy's POVThe campus buzzed with the energy of a new semester, students milling about with excitement and anticipation. I navigated through the crowd with a singular focus, my destination clear in my mind. Room 305. Constitutional Law. Professor Mclain.I had been preparing for this moment for months. Transferring to Gould was a milestone but it was necessary.If I didn’t avenge Lucas, no one else will. And he would have died for nothing. While his killer gets away with it. Lucas’s parents had taken his death in good faith but not I, Roxette Bennett. His killer would pay, in many ways than one.I slipped into the classroom early, choosing a seat in the second row, directly in front of the lectern. I wanted to be close enough to catch every word, every expression. Despite the chatter as the room started to clutter, my gaze remained fixed on the door as if I would miss the moment she walked in if I as much as shook.And then she walked in. When I saw her, my world stopped for about 2 s
Roxy’s POVI was trying so hard to shut down the picture Sarah had planted in my head.Aaron West.Sex.God, why would she say that to me?She’s my professor for crying out loud. I am not supposed to have a picture of her husband in the most indecent way plastered in my brain, yet here it is. All thanks to her.No wonder Rosie thinks she’s creepy. I mean, who does that? Who casually drops something like that into a conversation with a student?“He’s a god in that department,” she said, like it was just some fun little fact.Yikes.Now it was stuck in my head like gum in hair. I had to shake it off before I lost my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about him—his voice, his hands, his everything. Ugh.Focus, Roxy. Focus.I still had another problem to fix, and that problem’s name was Nick Burke.The sun was already low when I got to the football field. The sky looked like a painting—orange, pink, soft purple—and the long shadows stretched across the grass. Nick was on the field, practicing
Roxy’s POVCatherine Bennett—my overbearing mother was always right. Every time she said I would get into trouble, I always did.I remember this one time when I was sixteen.There was this house party. Big one. Everyone was going. I wanted to go so bad. My mom said no, of course.“It’s a bad idea, Roxy,” she warned me. “You’ll end up in trouble. I can feel it.”But I didn’t listen.I waited until she fell asleep, changed out of my pajamas, and snuck out the window like some rebellious movie girl.The party was wild—music, lights, drinks I wasn’t supposed to touch. At first, I felt free. Cool. Like I finally belonged.Then the cops came.Someone called about the noise. People screamed, ran everywhere. I panicked. I tried to run too, but I tripped on the steps and scraped my knees. The cops caught me and called my mom.She showed up with Dad lin her robe and slippers. Silent the whole ride home. That was worse than yelling.When we got inside, she said one thing:“Didn’t I tell you?”Ye
Roxy’s POVRosie’s phone buzzed, biting into our conversation. She glanced down, face scrunching up like she just bit into a lemon.“What?” I asked, already sensing the drama.“Nothing,” she muttered, stuffing her phone in her pocket. “It’s just Tommy canceling on me again... off to suck face with Rad.”Yup. Tommy Island. AKA Bad Tommy. The new guy who turned into a school jock overnight and somehow ended up Rosie’s boyfriend. For now. Hopefully not forever. Honestly, the guy’s only real talent is hurting her.I raised an eyebrow. “If you know he’s sucking face with Rad, why are you still with him?”“Because I like him,” she said, but even she didn’t sound convinced.“And since when does liking someone mean letting them treat you like crap?” I shot back.“We are not talking about me, Roxy,” she deflected fast, leaning forward. “We’re talking about you and your hot daddy crush. So… Aaron West really looks like Chris Hemsworth?”I pointed at her with two fingers. “Look at you, changing
Roxy’s POVPersistent—that's my sister, Rosie. I'm stubborn too, sure, but Rosie? She doesn’t know when to quit. It’s kind of her superpower… and her biggest flaw.We were in Dad’s old garage—the one he turned into a workshop before he passed. It still smelled the same. Oil, dust, and old memories. I was sitting inside his broken Ford Thunderbird, fingers tapping on the worn-out steering wheel like I was actually helping. But honestly? I just wanted to talk about Aaron West.Rosie was under the car, legs sticking out, covered in grease. Her jeans had more oil stains than actual denim. That girl was serious about fixing this thing. I leaned out of the car, looking down at her.“So… when exactly are you giving up on this?” I asked, trying to sound chill, even though I already knew the answer.“Right after it starts,” she shot back from under the car. “Just wait till I see the look on Dad’s face when it does.”I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn’t see it. “Dad’s dead, Rosie.”Her re
Aaron’s POVI felt different tonight. Something inside me was wild, but I didn’t know why. It was like a strong energy was running through me.Like a beast, hungry and wild looking for escape.And for some reason, I kept thinking about her—Roxette Bennette.Could she be the reason I felt like this? No, that didn’t make sense.Sure, she knows a lot about me. But people can find things online these days. It’s not hard. Maybe she just looked me up.I’ll admit it—I liked the way she talked about me. The things she said and the way she said them with that thirsty look in her eyes. It felt nice. But that didn’t mean anything.Still... the way she stared at me. Like she wasn’t scared. Like she knew exactly what she was doing. She walked in like she owned the place. Her face changed so fast—sweet one second, bold the next.Her eyes. The way she moved. The way she ended her boyfriend’s call so fast. She says she doesn’t have one.Lies ofcourse.But damn, she did that on purpose. She wanted to
Roxy’s POV He was looking at me—waiting for me—daring me to respond with those stormy gray eyes. Damn. I swallowed hard. Go on, Roxy. Charm him. Charm him so hard his pants fall off. Charm that serious, lawyer-face wall off his face. Have zero mercy. “I know you finished Harvard Law with a first class. I know you developed a method of cataloging procedures at Harvard, that’s now taught to first year students. I know you have never lost one single case in the courtroom. I know you made your name with your own blood, sweat and sleepless nights—not because of favors or anyone else's name. And I know you're the best damn lawyer in this firm and probably in all of California. Should I go on, Mr. West?” Oh yes, I definitely did my research. For a second, just a split second, something flashed in his eyes—surprise, sure. But there was something else, darker... intense. Something that sparked like a flame and vanished just as fast. “You’ve said enough,” he replied, voice hard a
Roxy’s POV There he was. Sitting at that big, intimidating desk, totally lost in whatever lawyer stuff was flooding his brain. Papers everywhere. Tension in his shoulders. And then—he looked up. And he saw me. Not like a “Hey student, what are you doing here” kind of look. It was quick, but it was there. First, surprise. Then something else. Something slower. Like… interest? Curiosity? Maybe even heat? I don’t know. I couldn’t pin it down exactly, but it made me feel powerful. Like I was actually doing something right. I walked slowly. On purpose. I knew the dress was pushing the envelope. The buttons, the hips, the slight sway—yes, I leaned into it. Maybe too hard, but Aaron West isn’t the type you get by playing it safe. The man is basically an ice sculpture in a suit. Subtle wasn’t going to work on him. So I brought the fire. Then came the mood shift. His face snapped into that usual “I’m-the-boss-here” vibe. “What are you still doing here, Ms. Bennett?” He asked it
Roxy’s POV“Goodnight, Roxy!" Greg from corporate law called out.I waved, flashing a smile. “Night!”Then Emily from paralegal passed, already halfway out the door. “You saved my life today.”“Anytime,” I said, keeping it casual.But inside?I was glowing.I mean, come on—I crushed it. Research? Nailed. People? Impressed. Mood? Roxette Bennett in full queen mode. I could almost hear the invisible crown settling on my head.That’s what I do—slide in, solve the unsolvable, walk out without breaking a sweat.The office was practically empty now, the silence was so loud, I could hear my own heartbeat.I started to pack up... but then I saw him.Through the glass.Aaron West.Still at his desk, sleeves rolled up, deep in work mode. His brows drawn together in that signature frown. One hand gripped a pen, the other raked through his hair like he was searching for answers in the strands somewhere. He was completely locked in.God, he had that kind of focus that felt like magnet. Like he cou
Roxy’s POVI could tell Sarah didn’t want to talk about it.But my vines? Yeah, they had a mind of their own. They weren’t backing off. If anything, they were spreading fast—growing, reaching, pushing. I knew I should stop, but something inside me just... wouldn’t.“I don’t mean to meddle,” I said quickly, giving her my sweetest I-care voice. “It’s just that I saw how it affected you when Rachel mentioned her.”That made Sarah look up. And I mean really look at me.She paused. Debated. Weighed her options like I was a courtroom jury and she wasn’t sure how much to give away. Then finally—she sighed. A long, tired sigh. Her face changed. More serious now.“Amber is a low-grade school teacher who’s suing SPECTRUM, one of California’s finest paint factory,” she said.“She thinks their paint is making their workers sick because her son, who used to work there five years ago, just died from unknown causes. Although there’s no clear report to prove it, she insists he started showing signs w