Novel-novel oleh oparaugosylvia142

I sit in my office and look at the papers on my desk, but the words are hard to read. I can't stop thinking about Jackson—how strong he is, how he stands up for himself no matter what. I didn't think he would be like this. I didn't think I would be so interested in him. The more I stay in this house, the more his presence makes me uneasy. He's not like the other people I've had around who have followed my guidelines. That is not something Jackson does. He pushes back and fights against the limits I set for him. It's annoying, but also exciting. I can't help but think about what he'll do next. What he's willing to put on the line. And why the hell it matters so much to me. I put my fingers on my temples to help me focus. This isn't how I do things. I don't feel things, and I don't want things. I don't want to be distracted. I have the power. I have always been in charge. Jackson has been able to break that grip, though, just by being himself. By being impossible to miss. The door

I stand in front of the big window in my study and look out at the city below, but my mind is somewhere else. I can hear Jackson's footsteps in the corridor, and I feel that old pull in my chest. For years, I haven't let myself feel this way. Weakness. Want. But now that he's in my mansion, I can't ignore it any longer. I have always kept a tight grip on everything—my career, my life, and my feelings. I had to. That's how I got this empire going. That's how I made it through. But Jackson... Jackson is not the same. He makes me feel something inside that I haven't felt in a long time. It's the way he makes me think. How he stands up for himself, even when he knows he's not in the right place. I can see the fire in his eyes. It's not just a survival instinct; it's something more. Something about him makes me want to push him, test him, and see how far he will go. I've been careful too careful—staying away, but I'm not sure I can keep this up. I want more when I watch him. Not only hi

The door clicks shut behind me, and the gentle sound stays in the air like a warning. As I walk into the corridor, my heart races and my mind races. My fingers touch the smooth walls, and the mansion's cool, clean air makes it hard to breathe. I can still feel the pressure of Charles' kiss on my lips and the heat of his touch on my skin. I try to forget about it, but it keeps coming back. What the hell just happened? I walk swiftly, and my mind and heart are all over the place. I should have been mad. I should have been really angry. But all I feel is... confused. I feel like I'm stuck in a hurricane that I can't get out of. I need to breathe. I need to take a breath. When I get to the back door, the chilly night air greets me like an old friend. I go outside, and the darkness wraps about me in solitude. The mansion feels like a jail since the huge gates keep me in a world where I don't belong. As I stroll down the garden path, my breath fogs up in the cold air and my boots crunch

The quiet in Charles Thorne's stately guest chamber is made worse by the faint buzz of the city below. The room is spotless, so clean that it seems like a hospital. The sheets are too silky and the bed is too comfy. It feels like I'm lying on a cloud, yet it doesn't help the pain in my chest at all. I roll over and think about what happened that day. Charles was cold, bossy, and distant. I couldn't really figure him out. All the money, the power, and the mansion are too much for me. He treated me like an object, like a deal, like I was nothing more. I get out of bed and sit up in the dark room, looking out the window at the city lights that are flickering. This is the first time I've ever been in a place like this. It feels like a cage made of gold, and the walls are closing in with every breath I breathe. I stand up and walk around the room. I guess I need to leave. But where would I go? If this man doesn't take me in, who else would? I say to myself, "Damn it," and run my finger

As soon as I get out of the car, the chilly night air strikes my skin and goes deep into my chest. The mansion in front of me appears like a fortress. It's tall, menacing, and obviously extremely nice. This isn't the kind of place I'm used to being. The polished glass windows reflect the streetlights, which cast long, black shapes on the front yard. As soon as I get to the property, I can see that things are different. I take a deep breath. I keep my hands at my sides even if they're sweaty. I don't want to ask for mercy. I'm here to live. There he is, at the front door. Charles Thorne. He seems like a statue at the doorway, and his tall body casts a menacing shadow. His blue eyes cut through the black light and stared at me like a predator might at its prey. His brown hair is perfectly combed and his black suit is spotless. He looks wonderful. He doesn't grin. He doesn't do anything. It looks like he's waiting for me to make the first move. As I walk, the gravel road crunches un

I sit on the side of the bed in this cheap motel room. The damaged lamp's wavering light makes long shadows on the peeling wallpaper. The air is thick with the stench of old cigarettes and remorse, and the weight of my own failure. My phone is next to me on the bed, and it buzzes every now and then with notifications that I don't want to see. The screen, which used to be full of messages from family and friends, now seems like a harsh reminder of everything I've lost. I can't help but notice my old friends and relatives going on with their life when I scroll through social media. My mom's face is smiling in pictures of family get-togethers, and my dad's tight hold around his new wife's waist. I can almost hear my dad's voice saying, "You're no longer welcome here," over and over in my brain. I shove my fingers into my temples to try to get rid of the memories. My body feels like a stone because of how hard the truth is that I'm facing. I never thought I would be sitting alone in a r