Willow Brown hides big secrets beneath her smile and cheerful personality, each secret weighing more than the previous one. One of her big secrets is that she has been crushing on her emotionally unavailable boss for years. Imagine her happiness when her boss starts to subtly reciprocate her feelings. Now, imagine her heartbreak when she comes to know that he already has someone he loves. Heartbroken, she wants to leave this life behind where she doesn't have to be her boss's pretend girlfriend. But then more secret spills from both her side and his and from another perspective. Secrets which involve lies, greed, manipulation and even murder. Now throw in a childhood friend who is showing all the love for her. Will she forgive her boss Spencer Cruiz? Or will she give in to the temptation of her childhood friend who also happens to be Spencer's cousin?
View MoreEverything is quiet except for the footsteps of Spencer. It sounds heavy against the floor, matching with the hammering beat of my heart. I found myself to be totally incapable of producing even just a single word after his ambiguous confession. He didn't stick around to oggle my reaction either. His hands are trembling as he brings them to his head to run them over his messy hair. The light is on right now. The room appears older than the building altogether as if someone forgot to take care of this room. But it isn't true. It is clean, obsessively so. However, it is old with the paint falling off the wall, the furniture looking ancient, which only consists of a bunker bed and a small closet.“Come on, take a seat.” He pats the place beside him as he takes a seat on the bed. It's like Spencer is a time bomb now. I'm afraid to approach him because I'm not sure when he is gonna explode. One moment, he is looking like the most pained person in the whole world, and the next moment, he i
One look at my frustrated face and back at Spencer's horrified look, Mrs. Summers realises that something isn't right. Worry lines occupy her face as she exclaims, “Oh good heavens! Did I say something I shouldn't have said?” I ease my shoulders and school my facial expression, flashing her a practiced smile and stepping two steps closer into the room, “ I just hope I'm famous, and not infamous.” Spencer clears his throat, trying to send a message to the old lady. However, she is too excited to interpret his message. Leaving his arms, she walks towards me, an amiable smile plastered on her face. “God no! This boy can never say anything bad about you. If he could-” “How about we stop talking about this topic?” Spencer meddles, the tip of his ears turning dangerously red. What the hell did he tell her about me? The way she is looking at me is like she is looking at someone she has always known and adored, making me hopeful. Not sure if that's how she is with everyone or it's becaus
I've known Spencer for more than 3 years now, working under his tight grip and demanding nature. I thought I had it all sorted out. I thought I knew everything about him. Turns out, I couldn't be any more wrong. The man I've subjected to scrutiny and baseless judgement just because I thought he was a spoiled brat who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and was used to having his ways, was far from the Prince I've imagined. “You used to live at an orphanage?” My voice is dry as I speak, eyes focusing on him only. He gives me a curt nod before his chest heaves with a sigh. He looks uncomfortable, out of place and out of control which seems to be bothering him. He looks me in the eyes before replying, “Not something you expected, huh?” As a reply, I just blink my eyes at him. What else was I gonna say to this vital piece of information? I and the other people who worked at his company knew nothing of it. Hell, no one seems to know about it because I haven't read any gossip about
For the entire ride, I sat perfectly still like a rigid wall, not even daring to blink. If I speak, it will be my loss. He knows everything that I wanted to keep a secret, that I needed to keep a secret. So, valuing the art of silence was my only option until he killed the engine and sat still on his seat. “We are here. I'm so sorry it took more than five minutes.” If he is being sarcastic, his tone isn't showing it. Giving him a curt nod, I unbuckle my seat belt and step out of the car without even looking where we are now. “What is this place?” I speak for the first time in a while, scanning the yard where children are playing and running around. There's a 4 story building just behind us. Spencer points at that for me to look at. “It's an orphanage. Little sunshine orphanage.” He says as if I'm too blind to read the big signboard that is hanging in front of me in bold letters. “Why are we here?” My curiosity resurfaces, pushing back the growing embarrassment that I was feeling
I didn't have a favourite coffee shop until I started running errands for Cruiz. It was sent from Heaven when I found a place that served coffee which cooled down his temper and soothed my soul. However, I never mentioned this to him. I knew he would make me search for a new one just because I found this place good. He was as sadistic as this. However, when I catch him sitting at the said coffee with an untouched cup of coffee sitting in front of him, I now realise that he did notice I liked it, he did notice when I bought coffee from this place every morning. I take a minute to take a few deep breaths before I step towards him. He seems to be lost in his own thoughts as he continues to stir the spoon in the cup absentmindedly. Why did I come, you ask? Truth be told, even I can't give you the answer. All I know is that I decided not to show up initially, telling myself that I didn't care. But then I spent the entire day staring at my clean apartment and the letter. The next thing I
“Willow.” I hear someone call me while shaking my arm. Letting out a groan of annoyance, I turn on my left side, trying to get some sleep. My head feels heavy and it's aching like there is no tomorrow. However, that's not enough to drag me away from my beauty sleep.“Damn it! Wake up.” This person is as stubborn as me. “Fuck off, Cruiz.” I yell in a sleepy tone, not really realising who's name I just took. I don't remember much about last night, but I can't deny that I remember the bit where Cruiz was there, doing what I don't know. I don't even know if it's a dream. Seeing how stubborn this person is, I'm sure it's him shaking my arm which feels like a massive earthquake. I'm aware that I need to know where I'm and what's happening, but just by thinking about it, I'm feeling tired. All of a sudden, I feel myself being kicked out of the bed. Although the force wasn't much behind the kick, I fell face first on the cold floor. It didn't only knock sleep out of my system, but also my
“Willow, are you okay?” The concern in his voice adds salt to the injury. I don't reply to his question, nor do I look around to see the baffled reaction of the people. Just a second ago I was declared a drunkard who was just blurting out nonsense and in the next second Spencer comes parading around, debunking the accusation the bartender kindly set for me. “Why the fuck do you care?” My reply comes out harsher than I intended. He doesn't shake away the concerned look from his face as he approaches me. It just pisses me off more. He is the reason I'm a mess. He is the reason why a bastard named Ronny Kingston thinks he has something on me. But the next time I look at him, I'm ashamed to admit that a little tear escapes my eye. “Why do you care?” I ask again, softer this time, my voice cracking. I don't know if it's the fact that Spencer doesn't care about the fact that we are making a scene in a crowded bar or it's the fact that I'm surprised that he is standing in front of me, g
I turn back to the dimpled man and give him the biggest grin I can muster. “Do you want to screw the playboy billionaire’s secret girlfriend and get on his bad book?” I watch the man contemplate his options as he takes a gulp of his Martini. “I love leftovers.” He smirks instead of coiling or turning away from me. Even though I am drunk out of my mind, I recognise the urge to smack someone when the right time comes. A sour expression engulfs my face, my fists turned into balls. How dare he belittle me like that? The loud murmuring around me after my little announcement starts to be fading away as my attention is turned to him only. There is no doubt that I'm fuming in anger right now. I bet my nostrils are flaring.He shakes his head as he laughs, “I'm sorry if I came across wrong. But I meant this.” He takes a hold of my glass and takes a deliberate slip as his eyes drink me. Setting the glass on the counter, he steers closer to me, bending down a little so that he is whispering
I knew where to go after that not so good encounter with my ex-boss. So, here I'm in my natural habitat. If you guessed the pub, you know me well. Though I wanted to mop alone and cry over my predicament, I ended up drunk calling my friends. I could hear them sigh in relief over the phone when they first took my call and they huffed in frustration when they cut the call with the promise that they would come get me as soon as possible. I don't really care though. I'm having a blast and it's been a while. I was done hiding in my bedroom. Maybe I'm having a little too much fun because I feel drunk out of my brain. So drunk that I feel like picking up fights with someone like some hooligan. “How about I buy you another round of shots?” A voice startles me by speaking up all of a sudden. Keeping my hand on my breast for a dramatic measure, I gasp, my eyes blinking at him in surprise. Soon after my eyes twinkle in amusement as my lips morph into a huge smile. “Why not? I see no harm in
Willow *** "Fuck Mr. Cruz. Fuck him." I yell out as I slap my hand against the table, no doubt it's loud enough to gather people's attention from around. Bella, my friend from the office, smiles sheepishly at the people around to apologize on my behalf, making me roll my eyes. Who's gonna tell her that we are at a place where drunk people throwing a fit is a common occurrence? "I know you are frustrated and drunk but you gotta keep your voice in check, willow. " She chides me as if I were a kid. "I'm not drunk." I shrug my shoulders before gulping down the whole glass of whiskey in one go, trying to debunk her accusation. "See? I can still take 5 more of these." I slur, already seeing everything in front of me double. Everyone in the office knows that I'm a great drinker, perks of being raised by an alcoholic mother, I guess. Owen, our friend from the IT department, never forgets to bring up the fact that I drank down almost every bottle of wine at the 50th anniversary of...
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