EvangelineMemories, memories, memories…This man—Alexander Creed—thoughts of him invade me, leaving me breathless even as I’m seated with him and his lawyer in his office. Keeping my eyes away from him is a hassle, and steering my thoughts from the things those hands, lips and body did to me three months ago is a bigger struggle.Stormy grey eyes meet mine from behind that desk that makes him appear like royalty and I recoil in my seat. Beautiful man.But I won’t let him treat me as he pleases simply because he’s beautiful and knows how to fuck. Hell no. I’m not a pushover.Three months ago was a mistake—I’m a twenty three year old who likes to explore. And I will not be punished for it; not by Xander, not by the public, and definitely not by my conscience.“For someone who detests me, Xander, you seem to enjoy my company a lot,” I start, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Weren’t you in my apartment just yesterday, so what am I doing in your office today?”He regards me for a moment,
EvangelineThe familiar gates of my parents’ estate swing open and the cab glides through the long driveway. I stare out the window, watching the sprawling mansion I grew up in with a smile. It's the kind of house that screams old money—all white columns, endless windows, and perfectly manicured lawns. The car barely comes to a stop before I’m out, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass mixed with faint traces of jasmine from my mother’s beloved garden.The front door flies open, and my mom and dad step out, their faces split with smiles. My dad stands tall in his usual casual attire, his hair messy from his addiction to running his hand through it while on business calls, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.“Well, if it isn’t my runaway artist,” he says with an excited laugh. “You smell like paint, Evie. Are you planning on redecorating the estate too?” I groan, rolling my eyes as I walk up to them. “I’ve been working on new pieces at the gallery, thank you very much.”“Yo
EvangelineIt’s been minutes and it has been silent. The silence echoes so loudly in my mind that I can hear my own thoughts, I can hear my fear gloating that it’s winning.It’s not a lie. My fear is winning. My skin is shivering, heart pounding so roughly, the kind of roughness I never knew existed.I almost speak first, break the silence, then my dad bursts out laughing and I have no choice but to bite down on my tongue. “Good one, Evie.” He chuckles amusingly. “You almost had me there.”“I’m serious,” I say quietly.Mom’s hand flies to her chest. “Wait, what? To whom? When? Why didn’t you tell us you had a boyfriend sooner?”“One question at a time, mom.” I murmur. “Evangeline!” “Mom, you startled me.” Heaving out a breath, dad asks, “when is the wedding?”“Soon, dad,” I answer on a clipped tone. “How soon?” He quizzes, his voice getting more serious.I huff out a breath, drag a hand through my hair, and answer. “Two weeks… the wedding is in two weeks.”Their expressions shift
AlexanderAt this moment, the contract and the rules of this arrangement is the last thing on my mind. I am angry, infuriated, irritated, but mostly at myself.I loathe myself for feeling something so deep for Evangeline that when the private investigator informed me of her whereabouts this afternoon, when I saw her come down from that fancy car, jealousy sank its claws into me.All I see is red.Especially as her hand thunders a slap on my face. Evangeline slapped me for another man. That is the only thought I can conjure in this moment. Fuck me. Fuck her. Fuck everyone.Before I can stop myself, my hand bands around her wrist and I haul her with me as the elevator doors slide open. She stumbles, I don’t give her a chance to regain her footing. I drag her in, slamming the button to close the doors behind us. The metallic thud reverberates through my chest, matching the pulse roaring in my ears.I shove Evangeline against the cold elevator wall and brace my hands on either side of he
Evangeline has been sleeping for hours. As much as it bothers me to watch her lie still for so many hours, I’m ecstatic to know she’s out of danger and her… our child is safe too.It’d have killed me if anything had happened to this baby she’s carrying. Not because of me, not because this pregnancy serves my selfish desires—no. Knowing Evangeline—the vibrant, outgoing, fun, exploring young woman she is, I can only imagine the mental pain she endured before deciding to keep a pregnancy, to keep Alexander Creed’s child giving our ugly history.I don’t want her to hate me for taking away this one thing keeping her grounded.The tip of my fingers trail small shapes on the back of her palm as I carefully watch her fluttering lashes.Beautiful.Absolutely gorgeous.My phone buzzes for the millionth time. And as I had done the other times, I reject the call without bothering to confirm the name plastered over the screen and focus on now, on my woman. My Angel.I sit back and watch her for m
EvangelineAs my eyes open, pain follows. It shoots through my bones and every corner of my head, dulling my mind and ripping a grunt from my throat. The first I notice is the blinding white lights, encased around spotless white walls.I blink, wincing to adjust my eyes to the harshness of the lights. Then panic sets in. Where am I? Why am I here? Questions churn in my mind as my eyes move frantically across the room. Something—someone moves and it catches my attention.Tall frame, stormy eyes, beautiful face.I blink slowly and squint my eyes at the figure staring at me from across the bed—I’m on a bed. Why am I on a bed?Shit.“Alexander,” the name tumbles out my mouth before I can stop myself.A step brings him closer. “Yes, Angel,” he answers, eyes observing me carefully.Slow and steady, every memory starts to unfold. The lobby, the elevator, the blood. He hurt me. Alexander moves forward again, I shift in bed, a small cry lodging in my throat.The room feels too small, like the
EvangelineI’ve always been drawn to the unknown, and this night is no exception.I’m sitting at the bar, slowly sipping probably my third glass of whatever the fuck the barman mixed up for me. I like it, it’s why I’m on the third glass. Do you know why I like it? Because it makes me so sensitive, so aware of my surroundings. So aware of the man in a black suit staring at me with intrigue from the other end of the bar.Or maybe he isn’t staring at me. Maybe it’s me who’s staring at him.Isn’t he the groom—or groom to be?It has to be him. I think I saw his friends dumping a full bottle of whiskey down his throat, screaming about how he should enjoy his last nights of freedom.It has to be him.God forgive me for drooling over someone else’s husband to be, but this man is beautiful; dangerously handsome. He’s still sitting, but I can tell he lacks nothing in height too. And his hair, it looks like he just walked out the shower after having the most demanding sex of his life.What am I
Evangeline“Fuck. . .”I hear the grumble of that word over and over and over. The voice distant, almost soundless like an inaudible echo in my head. I hum and stir, groaning in relief at the softness that wraps around me from beneath.“Fuck, What the fuck have I done?” I hear again, louder and firmer this time.A man.A man.Fuck, a man. My breath catches as realization settles in, my pulse quickening to the memories that slams into me. Memories of last night, the bar, the drinking, the kisses, the tongue that had me orgasming many times over, and the cock that railed me throughout the night. Mr. Alexander Creed.I jerk up from the bed, sitting up with a strained grunt. Gosh, my head is hurting so bad. “Fuck,” I whisper, the tips of my fingers massaging my temple. I feel his gaze burning into me, almost piercing through my skin. What now. . . I crane my neck to the side and stare back at him with just the same amount of intensity he’s staring me with. His throat moves as he swallo
EvangelineAs my eyes open, pain follows. It shoots through my bones and every corner of my head, dulling my mind and ripping a grunt from my throat. The first I notice is the blinding white lights, encased around spotless white walls.I blink, wincing to adjust my eyes to the harshness of the lights. Then panic sets in. Where am I? Why am I here? Questions churn in my mind as my eyes move frantically across the room. Something—someone moves and it catches my attention.Tall frame, stormy eyes, beautiful face.I blink slowly and squint my eyes at the figure staring at me from across the bed—I’m on a bed. Why am I on a bed?Shit.“Alexander,” the name tumbles out my mouth before I can stop myself.A step brings him closer. “Yes, Angel,” he answers, eyes observing me carefully.Slow and steady, every memory starts to unfold. The lobby, the elevator, the blood. He hurt me. Alexander moves forward again, I shift in bed, a small cry lodging in my throat.The room feels too small, like the
Evangeline has been sleeping for hours. As much as it bothers me to watch her lie still for so many hours, I’m ecstatic to know she’s out of danger and her… our child is safe too.It’d have killed me if anything had happened to this baby she’s carrying. Not because of me, not because this pregnancy serves my selfish desires—no. Knowing Evangeline—the vibrant, outgoing, fun, exploring young woman she is, I can only imagine the mental pain she endured before deciding to keep a pregnancy, to keep Alexander Creed’s child giving our ugly history.I don’t want her to hate me for taking away this one thing keeping her grounded.The tip of my fingers trail small shapes on the back of her palm as I carefully watch her fluttering lashes.Beautiful.Absolutely gorgeous.My phone buzzes for the millionth time. And as I had done the other times, I reject the call without bothering to confirm the name plastered over the screen and focus on now, on my woman. My Angel.I sit back and watch her for m
AlexanderAt this moment, the contract and the rules of this arrangement is the last thing on my mind. I am angry, infuriated, irritated, but mostly at myself.I loathe myself for feeling something so deep for Evangeline that when the private investigator informed me of her whereabouts this afternoon, when I saw her come down from that fancy car, jealousy sank its claws into me.All I see is red.Especially as her hand thunders a slap on my face. Evangeline slapped me for another man. That is the only thought I can conjure in this moment. Fuck me. Fuck her. Fuck everyone.Before I can stop myself, my hand bands around her wrist and I haul her with me as the elevator doors slide open. She stumbles, I don’t give her a chance to regain her footing. I drag her in, slamming the button to close the doors behind us. The metallic thud reverberates through my chest, matching the pulse roaring in my ears.I shove Evangeline against the cold elevator wall and brace my hands on either side of he
EvangelineIt’s been minutes and it has been silent. The silence echoes so loudly in my mind that I can hear my own thoughts, I can hear my fear gloating that it’s winning.It’s not a lie. My fear is winning. My skin is shivering, heart pounding so roughly, the kind of roughness I never knew existed.I almost speak first, break the silence, then my dad bursts out laughing and I have no choice but to bite down on my tongue. “Good one, Evie.” He chuckles amusingly. “You almost had me there.”“I’m serious,” I say quietly.Mom’s hand flies to her chest. “Wait, what? To whom? When? Why didn’t you tell us you had a boyfriend sooner?”“One question at a time, mom.” I murmur. “Evangeline!” “Mom, you startled me.” Heaving out a breath, dad asks, “when is the wedding?”“Soon, dad,” I answer on a clipped tone. “How soon?” He quizzes, his voice getting more serious.I huff out a breath, drag a hand through my hair, and answer. “Two weeks… the wedding is in two weeks.”Their expressions shift
EvangelineThe familiar gates of my parents’ estate swing open and the cab glides through the long driveway. I stare out the window, watching the sprawling mansion I grew up in with a smile. It's the kind of house that screams old money—all white columns, endless windows, and perfectly manicured lawns. The car barely comes to a stop before I’m out, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass mixed with faint traces of jasmine from my mother’s beloved garden.The front door flies open, and my mom and dad step out, their faces split with smiles. My dad stands tall in his usual casual attire, his hair messy from his addiction to running his hand through it while on business calls, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.“Well, if it isn’t my runaway artist,” he says with an excited laugh. “You smell like paint, Evie. Are you planning on redecorating the estate too?” I groan, rolling my eyes as I walk up to them. “I’ve been working on new pieces at the gallery, thank you very much.”“Yo
EvangelineMemories, memories, memories…This man—Alexander Creed—thoughts of him invade me, leaving me breathless even as I’m seated with him and his lawyer in his office. Keeping my eyes away from him is a hassle, and steering my thoughts from the things those hands, lips and body did to me three months ago is a bigger struggle.Stormy grey eyes meet mine from behind that desk that makes him appear like royalty and I recoil in my seat. Beautiful man.But I won’t let him treat me as he pleases simply because he’s beautiful and knows how to fuck. Hell no. I’m not a pushover.Three months ago was a mistake—I’m a twenty three year old who likes to explore. And I will not be punished for it; not by Xander, not by the public, and definitely not by my conscience.“For someone who detests me, Xander, you seem to enjoy my company a lot,” I start, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Weren’t you in my apartment just yesterday, so what am I doing in your office today?”He regards me for a moment,
AlexanderI’ve never truly known what it means to be happy, not while I was a child, not while I was a teenager, and definitely not right now that I’ve become an adult. It has always been a foreign concept to me. But as seconds turned into minutes, and into hours, and into days, the lingering thought—possibility that I might become a father in months has left drops of happiness in my bloodstream.Am I still adamant that the child doesn’t belong to me? Yes. However, a part of me knows that child is mine, and that part is happy about it, especially about the woman who’s carrying that child.It’s the reason seven days later, I put a call across to Carter and gave him my consent to draft a marriage contract between Evangeline and me. I hope this doesn’t come back to bite me. Because right now, I’m slowing my car to a stop outside the building where my private investigator said Evangeline lives. It’s decent, no, expensive. The place is upscale with modern architecture, glass balconies…
AlexanderI’m a stupid, stupid man. And my heart is the most stupid part of me. Which is why I’ll swallow my pride and admit that Evangeline is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.Even after all she did to me—connived with my wicked witch of an ex-fiance, got me drunk, and got into my bed—I still had to fight my urge to reach for her the moment I saw her today.With those beautiful, playful eyes and that feisty tongue.And the thought that she could be growing my child. Fuck. It does things to me, makes me remember the best night I’ve ever had.That said, I cannot allow myself to fall for that vile woman ever again. She used me, lied to me, made a mess of my name, disappeared for months only to reappear with a pregnancy. That is a level of deceit I’ll never fall for.This is done.Evangeline and I are done. We were the moment Chanel threw pictures of us, entangled in bed at me.The echo of her footsteps still lingers in the room long after she stormed out. The door slams shut, th
Evangeline“I’m pregnant.”Oh God, please… please… please…Help me get out of this mess.Alexander's sharp inhale reverberates through the room, his stormy eyes locking onto mine like I just delivered something worse than a death sentence. His body is stiff, his jaw clenching so hard I fear he might snap his teeth. I feel like a cornered animal, like a weak prey at the mercy of her predator with the way his cold eyes pin me in place. I’ve just told him the truth, but the disbelief etched across his face tells me he’d have had a peaceful life without knowing about this, like he wants to tell me my pregnancy has nothing to do with him. “Pregnant?” he repeats, each syllable dripping with venom. “With my child?”I nod, swallowing hard. “Yes, Alexander.” My voice trembles despite my attempt to sound steady. “I. . .”“Bullshit!” he barks, cutting me off. His sudden outburst sends a shiver down my spine, but I grit my teeth and hold my ground.“You startled me,” I breathe.Really, Evange