Se connecterThe makeup artist's hand froze in midair. Embarrassed, she quickly lowered her gaze and resumed dusting powder across his face. "You've been doing his makeup ever since he came to France and you're still not used to his eye contact?" Her assistant whispered. "Can you blame me?" she whispered back. "His eyes are... dangerously distracting. And he got long lashes too." They both chuckled quietly. Tarzan remained expressionless, seemingly indifferent to the conversation even though he could hear them clearly. ______ Meanwhile, Lena stood frozen by the car, feeling utterly out of place. Then a tall young woman approached—slender legs, healthy curls,head band and a sky blue tennis-ball gown so short it left the curve of her cheeks exposed. She walked like she owned a runway, those heavy makeup shows she wasn't an athlete or anything, the dress was just foe fashion sake. "Hi, I am Niva and you are?" She asked, stopping in front of Lena. "Oh… I am… T—Mr. Silver's man
The moment he settled into the driver's seat, the rich scent of his cologne flooded the car, making Lena's pulse stutter. She'd missed that scent so much she had to physically fight the urge to lean over and inhale him like a desperate fool. Tarzan started the engine without a word. The drive was painfully silent. Lena folded her hands neatly on her lap, stealing glances at him whenever she dared. His attention stayed fixed on the road—one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel, the other tapping an absent rhythm against it. She sighed and turned toward her window. Where do I even start? "Andres is my half-brother"? No. That didn't feel like the best way to reopen a conversation—not after everything he'd been through. Her mind kept spinning, tangled in indecision. Tarzan stole a glance at her and caught her profile silhouetted against the glass. His eyes drifted to her outfit. Looked way better than I imagined. Lena felt the weight of his gaze and turned her
The next morning, Lena woke earlier than usual. It was her first official day as Tarzan's manager.By the time he arrived, she was already waiting in front of her building.When Tarzan's car pulled into the driveway, he frowned slightly in surprise—he hadn't expected her to be there before him.His gaze swept over her appearance. Lena was dressed in a simple, plain knee-length gown, with minimal makeup and her hair neatly tied back.Just as she reached for the car door, Tarzan stepped out first. Lena's eyes sparkled at the sight of him in a light pink shirt—then drifted to the large shopping bag in his hand.Without a word, he held it out to her."Here," he said. "If you're going to be my manager, you have to dress like one."Lena blinked, then accepted the bag with both hands. "Oh... okay."With that, she turned and headed back inside to change, while Tarzan leaned against the side of his car, rubbing a hand over his face as he waited.Once in her room, she opened the bag and pulled
Diana’s voice continued.“Now I pitied him. His obsession with you isn’t healthy… and it’s not something that can easily be explained. We all have our demons—those little things that loosen the screws in our heads. That first week, he literally went insane. Some nights I had to stay with him. I’m telling you frankly, he went four days without sleep. The only thing that eventually helped him pass out was… masturbating.” She paused. “Don’t ask me who he pictured.”Diana exhaled slowly before continuing.“When even that stopped working, he started drawing your face every morning the moment he woke up—like he was terrified of forgetting a single detail. At some point, he turned to drugs. That was when I stopped recognizing him. He got addicted and changed totally...his emotions was hardly seen on his face. He lost lot of projects because of that."Lena’s grip tightened on the phone until her knuckles ached. Diana went on. “This strong young man who survived watching his own parents murd
Back at the apartment, Lena hadn’t moved from her spot. The food on the table had gone cold, and the heavy silence pressed in on her from every corner of the room. Finally, she stood, her legs shaky beneath her, and began clearing the dishes with mechanical movements. *Why did I push so hard?* she thought, rinsing a plate under the scalding water. *He’s right… it’s his life. But I can’t just stand by and watch him destroy himself.* A new, uneasy thought slipped in: *Maybe he already found a new manager. That would explain why he didn’t answer when I said I accepted the offer.* Her phone buzzed sharply on the counter. Her heart lurched. She rushed over, nearly knocking over a glass. A message from Silver Adams. "Tomorrow. 8 a.m. Studio briefing. I’ll come pick you up." Lena stared at the screen, her pulse stuttering. *So I’m really starting tomorrow?* *That means he’s my boss now.* She picked up the phone with trembling fingers and typed back a simple reply. **Lena
Dear Readers💜I uploaded two different chapters tittled JOB OFFER The contents are different so please don't skip so you don't get confused.Thanks for your support 🙏
Honestly, I wanted to punch myself in the face until I bled. Maybe that would hurt less than this."I've always spoken to you softly, haven't I?" I asked quietly.She paused, her smile fading just a little."That's… that's true. But this felt different. Mitch said it, and he hasn't spoken to me tha
“Care about me? Oh please Mitch! If you cared, you wouldn’t be calling out for Lena in your sleep!”"It is a fucking dream! Why does it matter! The fuck are you talking about, I wasn't in my right sense because I was sleeping, damn it Elena!*I yelled angrily.Her eyes widened at that."Look,I sna
LENA’S POV My eyes fluttered open to a pristine white ceiling. The room looked different—the curtains were no longer soft white but a calm, muted grey. My heart was still racing, and I gasped for air. That heavy, aching pressure lingered low in my abdomen, tingling painfully, desperate for a rele
The moment the cab finally pulled up to the Sapphire Suites Hotel, my men were already waiting. Three of them in dark suits stood by the entrance when we arrived. Before the driver could even get out to open the door — probably as thanks for the cash I’d given him — they approached. The driver st







