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
LIAMThe casino's entrance was a statement of luxury. As I stepped through the doors, the sound of slot machines and the low hum of conversation surrounded me. The air was filled with the scent of expensive cigars and the soft click of high heels on polished marble. The ladies couldn't hide their gawking--a usual occurrence I was already used to.I made my way toward the high-stakes room, my presence marked by the subtle shift in the atmosphere. Heads turned, and whispers followed in my wake. I offered courteous nods and firm handshakes here and there."Liam Sterling," a familiar voice called out. I turned to see David Torres, a seasoned distributor with a habit for theatrics. He extended his hand, which I took with a firm grip. "Good to see you. I hear you're quite the player tonight.""David. Always a pleasure."As I continued through the casino, I exchanged pleasantries with several other key figures. There was Carla Mendoza, a club owner with connections that stretched the whole o
LIAMAs soon as I left Felix, my irritation still pulsing beneath the surface, I gave him a clear directive: "Dig into this 'Queen of the West.' I want to know everything by morning."This day kept getting better and better, with more mysterious women throwing themselves in my path.This Queen of the West woman, whoever she was, sounded more like a joke and a waste of time, and I had a feeling the stunt she pulled back in the game room wouldn't be her last.I walked out of the casino, the glitzy lights doing nothing to calm the storm inside me. Once in the back of the car, I pulled out my phone and started making necessary calls. The night and my initial plans were already ruined. I needed to reshape my plans to gain new and bigger deals... more partnerships and expand my dealings far beyond the country. That was the aim when I first started to build my empire from the ground up.I decided to call the hotel contractor working on my newest hotel, which would open in a few weeks. The ma