MasukHe came to destroy her. She planned to crush him. Neither expected to fall. Mona is the queen of the business world; ruthless, feared, and untouchable. She doesn’t do love, friendship, or second chances. In her world, weakness is fatal, and survival means staying one step ahead no matter the cost. Her golden rule? Never get distracted. But then Kade walks in...sharp, relentless, and dangerously charming. He wants answers about a secret from her past. He wants justice. What he doesn’t expect... is her. Mona’s used to eliminating problems. And Kade? He should’ve been just another one. But every move she makes to push him away only pulls them deeper into a tangled game of power, desire, and control. He’s falling for the villain. She’s terrified she might actually feel something. And when hearts get involved, someone always bleeds.
Lihat lebih banyakKade's PovI swear, I didn't expect her to freeze like that.I thought she’d laugh it off. I thought she’d make a sharp comment about personal space and pull away. My thumb had barely brushed that pale, thin line above her eyebrow, a ghost of a scar you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it, when everything about her just… stopped.She didn’t pull away. She didn’t get angry. She just went still. So still it scared me. It was like touching a statue. A beautiful statue that might shatter at any moment.Her eyes went flat. Empty. All the fire from a second ago was gone. Drowned.“Get your hand off my face, Kade.”I didn’t move. Maybe I should have. But I was caught. Trapped by the sudden shift in her.“I said,” she repeated, still in that terrifyingly soft tone, “get your hand off my face.”I let my hand drop, but didn't step back. I should’ve known better. “Mona, I…” I started, but she cut me off.“I don’t hate men, Kade.” She looked up at me, her eyes seemingly to suck me into their co
“I…” The words were stuck in my throat. Sorry. It was a child’s word. A weak word. And, my father had made sure to beat any weakness out of me. “I acted on the information I had.”“Wrong information.”“Yes.” I forced the air from her lungs. “Wrong information.”He waited. The silence stretched, heavy and expectant.I felt like a specimen under the microscope. Humiliation, hot and prickly, crept up my neck. This was worse than any shouting match.“I… was wrong,” I continued. The words like gravel in my throat. “To accuse you.”“Louder.”My head snapped up. “What?”He had turned fully now, arms crossed. “Say it like you mean it. Or don’t say it at all.”Anger flared, hot and bright in my chest. I wanted to hit him. To scream in his face. Instead, I straightened my spine, and looked him dead in the eye.“I’m sorry, Kade.” The words were clear. Hard. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have accused you. Or threaten you either.”He watched me for a long moment, as if weighing the sincerity of each s
The ride to Kade’s office was over too soon. I stared at my reflection in the elevator’s steel doors. My face was pale. My knuckles clenched so tightly they were white.I should not be here.Apologizing was for the weak. It was an admission of guilt that basically translated into ‘ I made a mistake. And, I didn't make mistakes.But the words from Kingston rattled around in my skull.He persuaded him. Kade persuaded him.What did that even mean? What had he done? And why did the thought of him cleaning up my mess make my chest feel tight and fluttery?The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open into a sleek, silent reception area. His assistant wasn't at the desk. It was just me, the low hum of the a.c and the smell of money and lemon polish.His office door was the only thing between me and Kade.I pushed it open without knocking.Kade sat behind a wide, empty desk, looking at something on a tablet. He didn’t glance up, when I entered.“You know,” he said, his voice calm, almost bore
The cafe I'm sitting in is definitely not where I expected to meet my… partner of sorts. The air is filled with a low, happy buzz – the clatter of ceramic mugs, the hiss of the espresso machine, and the murmur of distant conversations. It smelled of roasted coffee beans and something sweet, like cinnamon. My gaze drifts to the walls, plastered with whimsical illustrations of capybaras in various poses, some wearing tiny hats, others lounging in miniature pools. The workers even lean into the theme, sporting adorable variations of capybara ears clipped to their uniform caps. I've never met this guy but I would have thought that he would be the stuffy type that preferred quiet, and expensive restaurants. Not a struggling business that served latte with animal foam art.A man walks in and I sit up straight, my eyes narrowing, monitoring him as he goes to the counter. He's a little bit older than I assumed, early fifties give or take, with a round belly straining slightly against the butt


















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