She came back not for love, but for revenge. Once the daughter of a powerful billionaire family, Isla Sinclair lost everything overnight when her greedy relatives betrayed her. Forced into hiding, she reinvented herself as a nobody—an ordinary assistant named Lana Grey. Now, after years of careful planning, she’s back, working as the lowly secretary of the man responsible for her downfall Damian Wolfe, the cold hearted billionaire who bought out her family’s empire and shattered her life. He doesn’t recognize her. But she knows him all too well. Her mission? Destroy him from the inside. Gain his trust, make him fall, then ruin him. But there’s one thing she didn’t prepare for… Falling for the man she swore to destroy.
Lihat lebih banyak“I think you should leave him,” Lana said, grabbing Damian’s hand, her fingers curling tightly around his wrist as if trying to anchor him before he could explode again. But it was too late. The chaos from earlier still clung to them like smoke. What was meant to be a simple movie night had turned into a mess—a disaster, really. They had barely settled into their seats at the cinema, trying to enjoy Love the Drum by Doones, when the situation spiraled. Lana had just reached for her popcorn when an overly bold stranger leaned in too close, his fingers brushing hers under the guise of accidental contact. She hadn’t even fully processed what happened when Damian stood, cold rage flashing in his eyes. The next thing she saw was his fist connecting with the guy’s jaw, hard and merciless. People had gasped, security rushed in, and the entire moment collapsed into chaos. Now, they were seated in a dim booth at Iraq Pacts, the low hum of conversations and clinking glasses offering som
“You better hurry,” he said with a smirk, his gaze dragging over me in that arrogant way that made my skin prickle. I bit my tongue, swallowing the sharp retort on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I folded my arms and lifted a brow. “Oh well, I can’t dress up with you watching me.” Damian leaned against the doorframe, completely unfazed. “Okay then. I guess we’ll be here all night, because I have no plans of turning around or going to the sitting room. It’s boring there. I’d rather stay here.” I sucked in a slow breath, realizing he was dead serious. He really wasn’t going anywhere. He wanted me to— “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” His voice was smooth, teasing, laced with something that made my pulse tick faster. I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, so that’s what this is about?” He shrugged, that damned smirk never leaving his face. “Oh yeah.” For some stupid reason, maybe frustration, maybe defiance, I let out a quiet breath and let the towel in my hand drop. I barely re
Lana forced herself to breathe as she settled back into her chair, her fingers curling slightly against the smooth surface of her desk. Damian’s words still echoed in her mind—We have a long day ahead of us. He had said it with that usual commanding tone, the one that left no room for arguments. And she hadn’t argued. Instead, she had done the only thing she could—walked out of his office, shut the door behind her, and returned to her assistant’s desk, as if nothing had just happened between them. But now, alone with her thoughts, the problem remained. I can’t take him to Trisha’s place. That’s impossible. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. There was no way she could let Damian meet Trisha—not when Trisha knew her secret, not when she was the only one who had helped her weave the web of lies she now lived in. He couldn’t meet Trisha, not now, not ever. But then there was Zito Whitehawk The name sent a shiver through her as she leaned back in her chair, staring blankly at her l
The air was thick, charged with something dangerous, something exhilarating. Damian’s lips were on hers, his grip firm yet intoxicating. The world outside his office didn’t exist, only the heat, the tension, the way his body pressed into hers. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, hungry, lost. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. She was supposed to leave, to put distance between them. But here she was, melting under his touch, tilting her head back as his lips traveled down the column of her throat. A sharp voice from outside the office snapped reality back into place. “I own this place too, you know! You have no idea who I am, i will have you fired so move.”“Ma’am the boss wasn’t expecting you”A small voice pleaded from outside. Lana’s stomach dropped. Someone was coming. The door flung open just as Damian straightened, his expression a mix of irritation and forced composure. Lana, still breathless, tried to push past the mortifying reality o
“Please… let me go.” Adrian’s voice was hoarse, raw from months of pleading. His throat burned, his lips cracked and dry. The damp air of the room clung to his skin, thick with the stench of urine, blood, and something rotting. A shadow moved before him. He couldn’t see it—his eyes were covered—but he felt its presence, looming, suffocating. A sharp click. The unmistakable sound of a camera shutter. “No, no, no—what are you doing?” Adrian thrashed against the restraints, the metal biting deeper into his skin. His wrists were torn, his ankles swollen. He tried to jerk away, but the rough sack over his head scratched against his bruised face, suffocating him further. A deep, amused chuckle filled the room. “I’m not the one you should beg,” the man said. Adrian’s chest tightened. The voice was cold, detached, yet oddly entertained. “Is it Lilith?” His voice cracked. “You people have taken everything from me.” “Not everything.” The words sent a chill through him. He cle
The air was thick with the stench of damp stone and decay. Adrian Sinclair lay on the cold concrete floor, his wrists raw from the tight metal cuffs that bound him. The dim light flickered overhead, barely illuminating the cramped space he had been thrown into. His head ached, his body stiff from weeks—months?—of confinement. He had lost track of time. The only sounds were the distant dripping of water and the occasional shuffle of footsteps beyond the iron door. The place smelled of mold, of unwashed bodies, of something metallic—blood, maybe. His own, or someone else’s, he wasn’t sure. He exhaled sharply, shifting slightly. Pain lanced through his ribs. Probably bruised, if not broken. A reminder of the last time they had come for him. They never spoke much, his captors. Only orders, only demands. “Eat.” “Stay still.” “Talk.” But Adrian had learned long ago that silence was his greatest weapon. If they wanted him to break, they would have to work harder. A scrape echoed th
The sunlight crept into Lana’s room, stretching its golden fingers across the sheets, warming her skin before she even opened her eyes. She inhaled deeply, feeling the slight stiffness in her limbs as she stretched, arching her back like a lazy cat before rolling onto her side. The world outside was already awake—cars honking, people shouting, the distant hum of life moving on. She lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, then shifted her gaze to the window. The glass was slightly fogged, the early morning air still cool from the night. She could see the city outside—buildings stretching high, endless roads weaving through them like veins. With a sigh, she threw the covers off and sat up, pressing her feet against the cold floor. The morning routine began. She dragged herself to the bathroom, flicking on the light as she examined herself in the mirror. Messy hair, sleep-heavy eyes, lips slightly parted from the remnants of dreams. She ran a hand over her face, then reached
Victor Lanchester gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, his knuckles whitening under the dim glow of the dashboard lights. The city buzzed around him, neon signs flashing against the wet pavement as he cut through traffic, barely paying attention to the cars he was weaving past.That bastard.His jaw clenched at the thought of Damian Wolfe, the golden boy, the man who had everything—the money, the power, the untouchable reputation. And now, Lana Grey.Victor scoffed.Damian might think he owns her, but no woman—especially not one like Lana—could ever be fully claimed.And he was going to prove it.The memory of that humiliating fight outside Super Mario still burned in his mind. He had been caught off guard, sure, but that wasn’t going to happen again. Damian had made a fool of him, in public no less, and Victor had never been one to forgive or forget.He took a sharp turn, the tires screeching slightly against the asphalt, his lips curling in a smirk.She was the key.La
The vibration of Damian’s phone cut through the thick tension in the air. The sound was sharp, insistent, like an unwanted chaperone barging into a moment that was dangerously close to unraveling into something reckless.Lana’s breath was still uneven, her body betraying the control she tried so hard to maintain. His palm, warm and firm, still rested on her thigh, his fingers barely grazing the hem of her shorts. He didn’t move to answer the call immediately. Instead, his gaze held hers—heavy, smoldering, unreadable.“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Her voice was quiet but steady, though inside, she was anything but.Damian exhaled sharply, clearly irritated at the interruption. He pulled his phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and then, with visible reluctance, answered.“What?” His tone was clipped, his fingers tapping absently against her skin as if he’d forgotten they were still there.Lana sat frozen, trying to push past the lingering heat between them, but she couldn
The office was cold, the kind of cold that only the city’s most expensive skyscrapers could hold. The polished floors gleamed under the artificial lights, and the hum of the air conditioner was the only sound filling the vast, sterile space. It felt as though the whole building was a monument to power his power. And now, she was a tiny, insignificant piece within it.Isla Sinclair, now known as Lana Grey, took a deep breath as she stepped into the executive floor. The nerves in her stomach twisted like a knot, but she couldn’t let them show. She had a mission, a purpose that no one here would understand, especially not Damian Wolfe. She had to remain calm, collected, and unbreakable.She was no longer the innocent woman who’d been stripped of everything she’d known. No longer the heiress to a once-thriving empire. She was Lana Grey now, a name forged out of necessity, designed to keep her hidden from the world that had tried to erase her existence. And in this world, where wealth, pow...
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