All Chapters of RECKLESS VOWS: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

CHAPTER ONE THE DEAL The shrill ring of the phone jolted Lyra out of her thoughts. She stared at the cracked screen, knowing exactly who it was before she even picked it up. “Miss Winson,” her landlord’s voice droned as soon as she answered, no pleasantries, just a cold, clipped tone. “This is the third notice. Your rent is overdue, and if I don’t have the payment by the end of the week, I’ll have no choice but to start the eviction process.” Lyra’s fingers tightened around the phone. “I just need a few more days, Mrs. Grant. I promise I’ll—” “No more promises,” she snapped. “End of the week, Lyra. That’s it.” The line went dead before she could respond. Lyra let the phone drop onto the table in front of her, staring blankly at the pile of overdue bills beside it. Student loans, medical bills, and now rent. The weight of it all pressed down on her chest like an iron cage. She exhaled shakily and pushed her hands through her hair. “Keep going, Lyra,” she to

CHAPTER THREE ADJUSTING TO THE ROLE.Lyra sat cross-legged on the plush rug in her room, Jane’s binder spread open in front of her. Pages and pages of neatly typed notes mocked her with their precision, each one detailing another facet of Ryker Blackwoods’ life. His favorite foods, the charities he donated to, his business associates, his habits, his schedule—it was all here. The overwhelming weight of it pressed down on her chest like a lead blanket. She flipped to a random page, her eyes scanning the words without truly absorbing them. “Ryker prefers espresso over coffee. Double shots only. No cream, no sugar. Served at precisely 175 degrees.”Lyra groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples. “What kind of person knows the exact temperature of their coffee?” she muttered. The staff downstairs didn’t make things easier. While polite, their watchful gazes followed her everywhere, as if waiting for her to slip up. She was hyperaware of her every move, from the way she held

CHAPTER FIVE.DINNER.Lyra hadn’t expected the knock. She’d spent the last hour trying to avoid being noticed, pacing in her room and replaying her earlier encounter with Ryker in the library. Every glance, every word, had felt like a test she wasn’t sure she’d passed. So when Mrs. Hargrave arrived at her door, informing her that Ryker had summoned her for dinner, her stomach dropped. “Dinner? I thought he was eating in his office. Why now?”She quickly changed into something presentable—a sleek black dress Jane had packed for her. It wasn’t her usual style, but it seemed appropriate for the occasion. As she made her way to the dining room, her pulse pounded in her ears. The dining room was as intimidating as the rest of the estate. A long mahogany table stretched across the space, its glossy surface reflecting the soft glow of the chandelier above. Ryker was already seated at the far end, his sharp suit immaculate, a glass of wine resting in his hand. Lyra hesitated at th

THE GAME TIGHTEN The mansion felt quieter than normal, and the silence made Ryker’s voice stand out even more. Lyra paused outside his office, heart pounding. She knew better than to linger, but the tone of his words rooted her in place. Through the door, his voice was low and cold, like the edge of a blade. “You tell them I’m not a man who tolerates delays,” he said, his tone steady but laced with danger. “If this happens again, they’ll answer directly to me.” There was a pause, and then Ryker’s voice dropped even further. “No loose ends. I don’t care what it takes—clean it up.” Lyra’s breath hitched. This wasn’t just a business call; it was something darker. The air felt suffocating as if the weight of his words seeped through the door. She tried to step away quietly, but the sharp creak of the floorboard beneath her feet betrayed her. “Come in,” Ryker called, his voice carrying an amused edge. Lyra froze, debating whether to run or face him. With trembling hands, she p

THE HUNTER’S PREY.Ryker leaned back in the leather chair of his office, the glow of the desk lamp casting sharp shadows across his face. The phone pressed to his ear crackled slightly with the distant voice of his investigator, who was rattling off a list of findings. “She withdrew a significant sum of money about a month ago,” the voice reported. “Enough to raise flags. And it doesn’t align with her usual financial habits.” Ryker’s fingers drummed against the armrest, the rhythm deliberate. “What else?” “Nothing substantial yet. But I’ll keep digging,” the investigator replied. Ryker’s voice dropped, carrying a note of threat that made even the faceless voice on the other end pause. “I don’t pay you for ‘nothing substantial.’ I want answers. By the end of the week. And make sure there’s no trail leading back to me.” He ended the call abruptly, the phone clicking against the desk as he set it down. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the polished wood, staring at the f