INTRODUCTION

Bryan Anderson’s P.OV

As I watched the young man walking towards my towering skyscraper, a wave of anticipation coursed through me. Despite being immensely wealthy, I knew my fortune wouldn't impress him and quite frankly I found his indifference to wealth, stupid. But there was something about him that made my heart race. 

For years, I had my lawyers send countless legal notices to Forbes to ensure that I would not be included in their list of the world's most desirable men. I had no interest in such superficial and frivolous attention. My kind valued discretion and maintained a low profile, even though I knew my immense wealth and striking appearance would turn heads wherever I went. But even as I observed the boy's approach, I couldn't help but feel drawn to him, even if he turned out to be a parasitic swindler.

His slicked-back brown hair glistened with gel, framing a heart-shaped face with blue eyes and long lashes. His rosebud lips begged to be kissed, and his lithe body seemed to call out to me. I felt an almost primal desire to possess and shape him with my hands.

As he looked up at me, shielding his eyes from the sun, I felt a jolt of electricity pass between us. It was as if he could sense my stare from hundreds of feet above, and I could feel the magnetic pull of sexual attraction. I knew that we would have an intense chemistry that would ignite once we finally met.

He disappeared into the building, and I felt a sense of loss. But then the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn't just attracted to him; I was mated to him. My heart sank as I realized that I couldn't let him go. I had to claim him, or I would lose everything.

He was my secret boy, and I would stop at nothing to make him mine.