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Gold Digger
Last Updated:
2025-08-18 00:46:18
Grace GrandiDear Readers, if you have come this far in reading this book, I want to say TWALE! TWALE in my dialect means, 'i hail you' or 'weldone'. Thank you so much. It is my delight that my work is being read. Each positive comment you drop about this book puts a smile on my face, if you want me to smile. Please drop your comments. I'm also open to corrections. #onelove
Latest chapter
Craving The Enemy's Husband Watching Christiana
Chap’ter 38: Watching Christiana. “Morning, Mr. Adams,” Mc Snortface called, his grin so wide it practically split his face. I slowed mid-step, narrowing my eyes. “Morning…" I looked at his name tag as though I didn't know his name before, "Mc Snortface.” That ridiculous name still made me wonder if his parents had been cruel or drunk when they signed the birth certificate. Although, I heard it wasn’t even his real name. It was some half-joking nickname the staff gave him years ago that had somehow stuck. His grin didn’t fade and that was when my first thought hit me like a sucker punch: the night in my office with Christiana. The quiet that wasn’t entirely quiet. The heavy glass door that didn’t quite muffle the sound of her breathing against mine. The security guards on patrol at that time weren’t deaf, they must have heard something. Was that what this grin was about? Had he heard something? Was he remembering it right now, picturing it every time he saw me? I rolled m
Craving The Enemy's Husband Unraveling
Chapter 37: The Unraveling Bryan’s car rolled up the long, curving driveway just as the last streak of daylight thinned into shadow over the estate. From the living room window, Bella stood watching like a Hawk. A DEMONIC HAWK. She stood still as a painting, as the headlights swept in a wide arc across the marble forecourt. The glow lingered on the glossy columns before winking out when the engine cut. She exhaled once, smoothing her silk robe over her hips, fingers lingering on the sash. Her movement was unhurried, deliberate. Presentation was everything. Tonight, she decided, she would be the picture of warmth and devotion, the version of herself that Bryan had once rushed home to, the one who could make him forget the world outside these walls. The front door opened, letting in a brief draft that curled around her bare legs. And there he was, tall, broad-shouldered, the lines of his charcoal suit rumpled from the day. His tie hung loose, the first two buttons o
Craving The Enemy's Husband The Threat
Chapter 36: The Threat Bella’s POV I hate afternoons! I'm the devil and darkness prevails here, the sun light catching the rim of my wineglass and scattering reflections like little sparks. I swirled what was left, letting the liquid coat the crystal, slow and indulgent. The sound was soft but deliberate, a quiet punctuation to the stillness in the room. I had asked Diane Adams to come back when she was about to leave angrily, she had said so much for one day, how could she go scot-free. I asked her to sit down so we could discuss matters more amicably. I would have killed her right here and right now if not that this is the Adams Mansion and I do not have anyone I could trust here yet to dispose the garbage. All the staff members here literally don't like me, and I don't like them either. Diane Adams sat across from me, her posture as rigid as if the chair beneath her were made of steel instead of velvet. The kind of posture that screamed discipline, breeding, and contro
Craving The Enemy's Husband Guilt
Chapter 35 **Christiana’s POV** Bella had made her motive clear. She wants to be the devil in my life. If she had sent me those messages to spark up something, she succeeded. I think in my previous life, I may have done something to her to make her hate and attack me this way, no doubt if she had the opportunity to kill me, she definitely would. Since I met her, she has been trying to make life harder for me. What she had done to my mother wasn’t enough; apparently, the destruction she left in her wake all these while wasn’t satisfying enough to retire on. She wanted to take every scrap of joy that came my way and crush it before it could grow into anything worth holding onto. She had never understood one thing about me, the more you push me into a corner, the sharper my teeth get. She still sees me like the Christiana she knew five years ago, the stupid and naive Christiana. I told her everything about me but I know nothing about her. What a friend! I looked aroun
Craving The Enemy's Husband Christiana Salazar
Chapter 34 **Bryan’s POV** Pete’s steady hands were still on the wheel, the hum of the car’s engine filling the silence between us. The late afternoon sun cut sharp slants of gold through the tinted windows, streaking across my suit sleeve. Outside, the city rolled by in a blur of steel and glass, every passing streetlight and intersection just another beat in the clockwork rhythm of my thoughts. And that rhythm kept syncing to one echo: How could you not know who your secretary really is? Tony’s voice had that staying power, that line kept circling the drain in my head no matter how much you try to flush it out. I shifted in my seat, gripping my knee until the muscle tightened under my palm. My eyes stayed locked on the windshield, refusing to so much as flick toward the phone resting on the seat beside me. The temptation was right there. Like an open flame. One touch and it would burn. I told myself I wouldn’t. I told myself checking on Christiana now would be
Craving The Enemy's Husband Gold Digger
Chapter 33: Gold Digger **Bella’s POV** “I need to speak with you,” Diane said, and even though her tone was level, something about the way her eyes locked on mine told me this wasn’t going to be one of those polite, empty society exchanges over tea and cucumber sandwiches. No, this was the stare of a woman who had come to start a fight. I knew Diane was going to be a problem, but I'm very sure I am a step ahead of her. I smiled with a slow, practiced smile that had gotten me through galas, brand launches, and high-stakes dinners with men who thought they were in control. “By all means,” I said, gesturing toward the velvet armchair opposite mine. “Sit.” She didn’t. Instead, she walked further towards me, each click of her heels on the marble floor like the tick of a countdown clock. The faint, expensive scent of her perfume reached me and I could smell her determination. She stopped close enough that I could see the faintest trace of a vein pulsing at her temp
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