LOGINOn the night of her 23rd birthday, Nova's world shatters when she learns that her father has arranged her engagement without her consent to Henry, the heir of a billionaire family, a man she barely knows. Feeling trapped and betrayed, she makes a desperate escape, running from the life that others have chosen for her. With her father’s guards closing in, Nova takes a chance and slips into the first car she finds outside the mansion. But her gamble lands her face-to-face with Bentley Sterling, the cold and enigmatic CEO of Sterling Incorporation, a man notorious for his indifference to emotional attachments. Bentley has no interest in saving a runaway heiress, but when Nova offers a bold proposition, her personal services in exchange for his protection, he reluctantly agrees. As his live-in assistant, she endures his impossible demands and distant demeanor, but beneath his ruthless exterior, something unexpected begins to unravel. What starts as a transaction turns into something deeper, something Bentley wanted; desire, vulnerability, and a love he doesn't know how to handle. Will Bentley and Nova fight for their love or we will they allow external forces tear them apart?
View MoreJane Eleanor WhitmoreBorn: April 16, 1966 – Died: September 2, 1994The engraved letters on the tombstone stood bold against the smooth marble. A bouquet of white lilies rested at its base, placed there by Bentley himself.Dressed in black, Bentley Sterling stood solemnly before the grave of the mother he never met. Beside him, Nova, Olivia, and Charles Sterling stood in silent reverence, their expressions reflecting different shades of grief and remembrance.Nova’s hand rested lightly on Bentley’s arm, a quiet offering of support. Olivia held a single white rose, her fingers tightening around the stem as she gazed at the tombstone with an unreadable expression. Charles stood with his hands clasped in front of him, his jaw tight.Bentley took a slow breath, steadying himself before he spoke."I'm sorry I haven’t visited in a long time. Mom," he started, his voice quieter than usual. "I should have come sooner, but—" He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "Life has been… busy. So much
The wedding was nothing short of spectacular, a billionaire’s affair filled with power and prestige. Every detail had been carefully planned, from the towering floral arrangements to the soft melody of the orchestra playing in the background. The atmosphere hummed with anticipation as the guests turned their attention to the aisle.Bentley Sterling stood at the altar, exuding quiet confidence in a custom-made Brioni tuxedo, its rich black fabric catching the light with a subtle sheen. The silk lapels framed his broad shoulders perfectly, and the crisp white dress shirt beneath added to his effortlessly refined look. But none of that mattered to him right now. His expression had softened into a rare, genuine smile—one that only Nova could bring out as he waited for his bride to walk down the aisle.And then she appeared.Nova Sinclair walked down the aisle with a grace that turned heads, but it was her gown that truly stole breaths. A masterpiece of couture design, the custom-made cre
A sharp pain throbbed at the back of Castiel’s skull as he stirred awake. His body felt stiff, his wrists sore. He tried to move, but the rough bite of rope around his wrists and ankles stopped him. The realization hit him in waves—he was tied up. Restrained. Trapped. His pulse spiked with panic, breath coming in sharp gasps as he struggled against the restraints.The chair beneath him creaked as he shifted, his muscles straining, but the ropes didn’t budge. His fingers clenched and unclenched, testing for any slack. None. He tried to turn his head, only to feel the weight of drowsiness still lingering, making his vision blur at the edges.Then, he noticed her.Ivy was moving around the room, placing candles on various surfaces, adjusting them with a strange sort of focus, as if she were setting up for something intimate. Romantic. The sound of his ragged breathing filled the silence before she spoke, her tone light, almost indifferent."You're finally awake," she mused, still not lo
Castiel’s head lolled to the side as the drugs fully took hold, his body sinking deeper into the couch. His vision blurred at the edges, and the room felt like it was tilting—no, spinning. Everything was moving too fast and too slow at the same time.He tried to speak, but the words didn’t come out right. “Wha… how—” He squinted at Ivy, his tongue thick in his mouth. “How you… you—” He struggled to string his thoughts together. “How… you here?”Ivy grinned, arms folded as she leaned against the door. "I followed you."His sluggish brain tried to process that. "Follo—followed?" His mouth barely formed the word.Ivy nodded, stepping closer. "Mmhmm. You weren’t exactly hard to track, Castiel. A man like you? In the middle of a scandal? Running away to lick your wounds?" She tilted her head. "Predictable."Castiel groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "No… naw, tha's—" He shook his head like that would clear the haze. "That's crazy."Ivy beamed. "Oh, you haven’t heard the crazy part yet
The cold stone walls of the cell were unforgiving, just as the world outside had been. Savannah sat on the hard cot, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and stale air. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt warmth—real warmth, not the kind that burned from the inside, threatening to
"Prisoner 72804," a firm, dispassionate voice of a prison guard called from the bars.Savannah barely turned her head, her jaw tightening at the sound of her new identity. She wasn't even Savannah anymore—just a number, a body confined to four cold walls."You have a visitor," the female guard cont
Chloe and Franco sat in the living room of their sleek, modern apartment, the silence between them heavy, almost suffocating. The weight of everything that had unfolded—his mother’s actions, the trial, the court’s verdict lingered like a storm cloud. Chloe, who had always been able to read him with
The air inside the courtroom was heavy with anticipation. Everyone had gathered—Bentley, Nova, Austin, Chloe, Chelsea, and most importantly, Franco, whose tense posture and tight grip on the arms of his chair betrayed his emotions. His mother, Lucia, sat at the defendant’s table, her usual poise st






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