LIAMLunch with Blanca Torres felt almost routine by now. We had met several times before under the pretext of discussing business, but there was always more to it than that. She had been the one who introduced me to her husband, David—a powerful investor whose backing I needed for my dealings. He had already proved himself a worthy partner when I had issues with my latest shipments. And while David was the ultimate target, it was clear that Blanca held the reins when it came to influencing his decisions.She sat across from me at a private table in one of my restaurants. Her dress, a form-fitting designer piece, complemented her perfectly, and she wore it with the confidence of someone who was used to having eyes on her."I owe David for his involvement last month; he saved me a lot from the authority," I said, offering her a smile as I sipped my wine. "I wouldn't have made it this far with him without your introductions."Blanca's lips curved in a playful smile. "Oh, I'm sure you co
The grand ballroom was bathed in golden light, chandeliers casting a soft glow over the crowd. Tables draped in the finest linens were adorned with centerpieces that screamed elegance. The stage was set for success—everything arranged, down to the last detail. The new hotel stood tall and gleaming against the skyline. The idiot contractor brought the initial idea to life, just as I'd pictured it.But something was off.As I stepped into the ballroom, I immediately noticed the sparse crowd. Sure, people were mingling, sipping champagne, smiling politely, but the energy wasn't there. The room wasn't packed like I had expected it to be. Not even close. I glanced around, my stomach sinking. There were far fewer people than we'd anticipated. The hum of conversation lacked the buzz I had imagined. This was supposed to be the event, but the excitement just wasn't in the air.Where the hell was everyone?I adjusted my cufflinks, trying to keep my cool, but my mind was racing. I had spent mont
MONIQUEAs the clock ticked closer to the moment of the official seal being opened, the few guests that were in attendance had dwindled—it was almost laughable. The very few guests that hung around mingled, champagne flutes in hand, while photographers hovered nearby, ready to capture the moment. But as I scanned the room, I discovered Liam was nowhere in sight.This was his big night, wasn't it? The launch couldn't wait, but neither could my questions about his whereabouts. Watching how all this affected him was the highlight so far of my time in his employ. I couldn't even hide the satisfaction on my expression.I slipped to the side of the ballroom, out of sight of the few people lingering, and quickly dialed Richardson. As I waited for him to pick up, I surveyed the room again, searching for any sign of Liam. When Richardson answered, his voice was clear and steady, reassuring me and rubbing my own proud shoulder. It just felt too good."Everything's running smoothly here," I cou
LIAMTwo days after the hotel launch, I had done my best to stay off the grid. I needed to reset, regroup. The launch night still lingered in my mind, the low turnout, the whispers about her—the damn Queen of the West. She'd managed to pull off a spectacle, sure, but I wasn't worried about the fireworks and flash. I had longevity on my side. Running a hotel in Midtown Manhattan was about more than just showmanship. It was about staying power, strategy, and knowing how to pull the right strings in the right places.She could pull a big launch show, but let's see if her business strategy was worth anything. Launching a hotel is one thing, keeping it thriving in a city like this is a different beast entirely. And I intended to own this city, one way or another.I didn't get this far to come out second. I was currently running one of the biggest cartel in the state. The hotels, clubs and restaurants were just surface level glory. Legit concealing the illicit.The competition had just offi
There's a certain silence in suffering—the kind that wraps around your throat, leaving you gasping for air. It's like a constant tinnitus, a ringing that drowns out everything, even the sound of your voice as you silently scream for help. You want to reach out to someone, anyone, to plead for relief. But even when someone is there, the silence can still feel overwhelming.Amid the chaos of New York's evening rush, with honking horns and bustling streets, the quiet inside me remained deafening.Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled out of the studio, jogging away from the school building and the girls who made my life feel like hell at school. My pointe shoes were still tight on my blistered feet, tulle brushing against my leotard, and tights sticking uncomfortably to my sweaty skin, the cold night air made my sweat feel like icy pins. I felt like I was suffocating.I saw the SUV parked in the lot, waiting for me like a lifeline. I sent up a quick, desperate prayer that my mother was i
MONIQUETen years laterIt felt good to be back out in the city that never sleeps—New York, a city that had swallowed me whole and, in return, spat me out stronger.I watched my childhood and innocence engulfed in flames just shy of a decade ago. The first few years of my life after the tragedy were like getting dragged through razor wire... nearly impossible even, especially in a world I now called mine. I could have been assassinated along with my parents that night, but I managed to maneuver the part where I was the victim and slip out of the tragedy of being the timid kid orphaned by bullets. I had to burn those memories of being bullied as a teenager, and you know what else I did? I became well-acquainted with the dangers that my family attracted, those dangers that lurked due to power and position.I drove myself to 'The Dark Pulse' nightclub. It was one of the newer clubs in town, and its reputation was spoken about by people who knew it. It was not just an advertised spectacle
LIAMI shoved open the door, barely giving it a chance to swing back before I had her pinned against the wall. Her lips were on mine, zealous, hungry. I wasn’t one for chasing women—hell, I never wasted my time at the club hoping to find one worth my trouble. But tonight, I needed the distraction. And she was something else. Sharp-eyed, with a smile that promised chaos and a body made for sin. She hadn’t hesitated when I grabbed her hand and led her out of that noise. That’s how I knew she belonged here, in my penthouse, under my grip. My one hand anchored her to the wall, the other hand tangled in her hair. God—the way she moved, the biting edge of her brown eyes drinking in my space like she was impressed. She seemed to be looking for trouble, looking for someone like me. Dangerous. Sexy. This woman wasn’t my usual type—I didn’t like them so businesslike, and god, not the ones with so much hair I couldn’t wrap around easily. She moaned against my mouth as I pressed her harder aga
MONIQUEMy therapist once told me about the four stages of rage. Annoyance, frustration, hostility—and then fury. I didn't think I had felt the first three, not really. But that final stage? The white-hot, blinding intensity of fury? I felt it now, burning through me like a fire I couldn't control.I didn't cry when I watched my parents get murdered. I didn't cry at their funeral when they were lowered into the ground, the weight of grief suffocating me. But seeing the face of their killer? Discovering I had unknowingly spent the night with him, sharing an unforgettable, passionate encounter? That broke me in a way nothing else had.The tears came before I could stop them, hot and bitter. The anger surged inside me, unstoppable, until I was shaking with the force of it. I locked myself in my bedroom all morning, burying my face in the pillows, letting the rage consume me until I had nothing left but exhaustion.But I couldn't stay in that place. Not now. Not with so much at stake.A s