MONIQUEThis was disgraceful. I had no control over my body anymore, every rational thought drowned in the heat of the moment.What the hell was I doing?The question barely had time to form before his fingers slid my panties to the side and found that tiny ball of nerves between my legs. A low moan escaped me, muffled by his mouth as his fingers began to move, stroking my clit with maddening precision. Each stroke was slow, deliberate, and sent waves of pleasure rippling through me. His mouth tasted of whiskey, and it intoxicated me more than the alcohol ever could. I drank him in, greedy for more. My body wanted more—no, needed more. He was unraveling me, piece by piece.I reached for his belt again, desperate to feel him, but he caught my hands, pinning them behind me. His lips pulled away from mine, his breath warm against my skin as he shook his head."No," he whispered, his voice rough and full of control. "Let me handle this."His fingers teased my clit again, and I whimpered,
LIAMI knew exactly what I was doing to her. She tried to fight it, to resist the pull between us, but it was useless. Every time she pushed, I felt her falter, saw that crack in her armor, and it fueled something primal in me.She was intoxicating, and I reveled in the power I had over her. I could see it in her eyes, the way they darkened with desire even as she tried to pretend otherwise. I could feel it in the way her body responded, betraying every word she threw at me.I made her wild, unleashed something in her she probably didn't even know existed. It was more than just lust now; it was something deeper, something raw and uncontrollable. And I loved it.Every look, every touch—it was like I was rewiring her. She could pretend to hate it all she wanted, but the truth was in her trembling, in the way she clung to me when I pushed her to the edge. I had gotten inside her head, her body. I could see the look in her eyes before she bolted—panic, confusion, and something else. Some
LIAMThe Sapphire Pillars—my newest and most luxurious hotel. I launched it with high expectations just a few weeks ago, convinced that success would follow swiftly.But reality didn't match my vision.Business was sluggish. The halls weren't overflowing with guests, and the rooms weren't fully booked like I had predicted. Worse still, the Queen of the West had her hotel thriving at the same time, right under my nose. I'd seen it firsthand a few days ago when I'd decided to check it out for myself. Her place was buzzing with life, pulling in my crowd—guests who should've been at Sapphire Pillars. It didn't make sense; there wasn't much difference in how we ran our operations, yet she was winning this battle, one that I thought I had the upper hand in.I sat in my office, the silence of the empty offices and halls around me. Midnight had come and gone, and everyone had long since gone home—including Monique—but I stayed, lost in my thoughts. My mind spun in circles, trying to figure ou
MONIQUEI spent the entire weekend trying to push thoughts of Liam out of my mind. But no matter what I did, he lingered. At least, by the time Sunday rolled around, I was in a better state of mind than when I stormed out of his office. My emotions weren't so raw, though they still simmered just beneath the surface. I knew I couldn't keep them bottled up forever. So, I decided to confide in Sophie.Of course, I left out the more dangerous details—like the fact that I was a drug dealer with an alter ego, working under someone else. I wasn't ready to open that part of my life to anyone. Instead, I told her the simpler version: that I had feelings for my boss, and it was getting complicated.Sophie had listened intently, giving me that warm, knowing smile of hers. After I finished, she had offered her advice."Monique, you're making it harder on yourself by fighting it," she said. "If you both feel something, why not let it happen? You've told me how intense it is, how undeniable. Maybe
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