PROLOGUE Roxy’s POV “Does this make you uncomfortable, baby?" His voice is like smoke in my ear heating up my whole body. "No... Daddy, never with you." I say in a hush whisper and I feel his body tense against mine. “I like how you call me Daddy… and still make me feel like a boy around you. Restless. Impatient. Like I don’t know what to do with myself.” “I like how you call me baby,” I whisper, “and still make me feel like a woman. Desired. Dangerous.” “But I’m too old for you, baby…” Yet he’s already pulling me closer, mouth brushing the corner of mine, the tip of his nose trailing down my jaw before he buries it in my hair like he needs the scent to survive. My body trembles, a slow, tantalizing shiver rushing down my spine. I bite my lip, breathless. “You’re not too old. You’re just right. Right for me. Right now.” His hand moves, slow and possessive—fingertips gliding over my blouse until his thumb finds the sensitive peak of my nipple. He presses just enough for me to
Roxy’s POV Four months ago, everything changed. It wasn’t the grief that broke me. It wasn’t even the nightmares, or the way I’d wake up gasping his name like I could pull him back from the dead. It was her. I used to wonder what she felt after it happened. Guilt? Remorse? Even a flicker of regret? But I was so stupidly, painfully wrong. Because one week after the hit-and-run, she was living her best life—unbothered, and unapologetic. She was going on an anniversary date! with her baby! And I? I was choking on grief, drowning in it. That was the moment something in me snapped. “So what’s your plan? Just walk in there and kill her?” Rosy, my younger sister, shot her eyes at me, her arms crossed over her chest. I was exploring clothes in my wardrobe, picking out the dress for my first day at the South Carli University. “Ofcourse not” I roughnecked her, “I am not a killer. I only plan on making her suffer….This or this…” I held up two gowns, a black A line gown and
Roxy’s POV Panic. A state of uncontrolled fear, written all over Catherine Bennett’s face. It was familiar but still exhausting. “Explain it to me Roxy, why you would ditch your Stanford scholarship after a year and settle for Gould, I do not get it.” Catherine Bennett, my helicopter mother, screams at the top of her voice. I was actually scared she would snap a vein. Someone needs to avenge Lucas and it’s up to me. I didn’t say that out loud though. I said this instead. “Gould is not bad mom.” I cross one leg over the other and cross both arms over my chest, ready for her 360. “But it is not Stanford and you had a scholarship, how do you intend to pay for school, huh?” “I have some money saved up,” Over 5000 bucks from tutoring rich kids at Standford. Bunch of kids who had a lot of money and nothing subsubstantial to do with it. It’s not much but it’s a start. “And I plan on working….. and there are loans.” I say simply. “You hate working Roxy… you detest it. The only t
Roxy’s POV My face flourished with mild make up, pink blush and lipstick, my light Olive skin gleamed, all thanks to my newly acquired beauty products and my hair was gathered in a pineapple updo, with well laid edges and thanks to my curl-enhancing product, my curls were defined and voluminous dangling down my high ponytail. My revenge glam was activated. “Roxette Benette.” The clerk called and I rushed to her standing desk. I had been waiting for over thirty minutes, and I was starting to get hijacked by nerves. “Good day Ma’am” I rested my elbows on the desk, taking her face squarely. “You transferred from Stanford?” It sounded like both a question and a fact. She had only just let her head up the computer, with an astonished look. “Yes” I smile. “Why?” Her face wrinkled like a squeezed orange. She looked like she pitied me. My lips moved but I couldn’t find the words. Where is the lie, Roxy? Find it! “My uh…. father is dying, terminal disease.” I make a crying impression w
Roxy's POVThe campus buzzed with the energy of a new semester, students milling about with excitement and anticipation. I navigated through the crowd with a singular focus, my destination clear in my mind. Room 305. Constitutional Law. Professor Mclain.I had been preparing for this moment for months. Transferring to Gould was a milestone but it was necessary.If I didn’t avenge Lucas, no one else will. And he would have died for nothing. While his killer gets away with it. Lucas’s parents had taken his death in good faith but not I, Roxette Bennett. His killer would pay, in many ways than one.I slipped into the classroom early, choosing a seat in the second row, directly in front of the lectern. I wanted to be close enough to catch every word, every expression. Despite the chatter as the room started to clutter, my gaze remained fixed on the door as if I would miss the moment she walked in if I as much as shook.And then she walked in. When I saw her, my world stopped for about 2 s
Roxy's POV“Nicolas Burke.” The name stretched out of Rosy’s lips, as she tapped on the g****e search icon. My head hovering overs hers as we snuggled up in her bed.“Woah,” Rosy exclaimed as pictures of Nick splashed on our screen. “A football player.”I leaned in closer, my eyes widening in surprise. "No way!”“NICOLAS BURKE, STAR QUARTER BACK FOR THE SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA RAVENS…. what!” Rosy’s voice tipped with excitement as she scrolled through an article discovering that Nick was not just any football player—he was a star quarterback for the college team. His stats were impressive, and he was popular in numerous sports magazines and online forums.“Look at these videos!" Rosy gasped, clicking on a highlight reel. Our mouths hung in awe as Nick effortlessly dodged defenders, threw perfect spirals, and celebrated touchdowns with his teammates“So, Lucas never mentioned him?” Her mouth moved but her eyes stayed steadfast on Nick’s brimming photos, cruising each one judiciously.“Not i
Roxy's POV Deception—garnishing a lie to make it look like the truth to achieve a desired outcome. It’s not a proud thing to do but sometimes it’s a necessary thing. Like right now, standing in front of Professor McLain’s office. I stood at the door, with my deceptive hat on, my hand primed to knock. I took a deep breath, trying to steady the fluttering nerves in my stomach. Deception is also not an easy thing to do but I was never an easy girl. “Come in.” I heard and I swung the door open. Professor McLain’s warm smile greeted me. “Ms. Benette.” “I’m sorry Professor McLain, I hope I am not disturbing?” “Oh no,” She waved me off, her eyes lighting up with genuine enthusiasm. “Come on in.” I stepped inside, and she gestured for me to take a seat. The office was neatly organized, filled with stacks of papers and books that gave off an aura of academic authority. I sat down, offering my most interested expression. “I looked at the materials you sent," I began, pulling out a note
Roxy's POV Distraction—attempting to do one thing but completely captured by another. I hated distractions. Especially when I was trying to study. If there was a sudden fire and I had a book in my hand, I would surely be the last person to leave the building. But here I was sprawled on the college football bleachers, trying to bury my head in the interview prep notes for the job Professor McLain had scored me and yet the rhythmic thud of footballs being kicked and thrown below was impossible to ignore. Every few second, I glanced up, my concentration breaking as I watched him. Nicolas Burke—His sweaty, athletic bulk maneuvering through the field with a practiced grace. “D*mn! He’s hot!” I nearly pinch myself once I realize I actually said those words out loud. “I’m sorry Lucas.” I mouthed to myself, picturing his grimace in my head. I was practically eating his used to be best friend with my eyes and I felt all kinds of guilty. Could you blame me though? Just look at him: inte
Roxy’s POVMy room looked like a battlefield.Clothes everywhere.Nothing felt right.Not mine. Not Rosie’s.Not the black skirt, not the blue one, not the damn jeans. Nothing screamed seductive, revenge-driven temptress about to set her boss on fire.Crap.Why didn’t I just tell him?“Sir, I don’t own a single decent dress.”Too late for that now.My phone rang, vibrating under a pile of failed outfits. I dug through like a woman searching for treasure and finally found it.Sarah.My stomach flipped. Should I pick up?I hesitated too long, and it rang again. Okay. Okay.“Hi Roxy, your best girl here!” Her voice was a literal sunbeam.“Hi Sarah.”Wow. I didn’t know my voice could sound that stressed until she said—“You don’t sound good, Roxy. What’s up?”I pressed my lips together and finally admitted it. “I’m in the middle of a crisis.”“What crisis? Are you okay?”I exhaled. “I got invited to dinner… but I don’t have a dress to wear.”Instant regret.“Come on, I’ll take care of you
Roxy’s POVIt was a new day at the office but my mission was still the same.Aaron West.I knocked mildly at his door before stepping into his office. And there he was.Mr. Hard Face. Mr. Commanding. Mr. “I-own-every-air-you-breathe.”He was on a call, pacing across the room, voice deep and rough like a devil whispering in a dark room. His tone wasn't loud, but it filled the room. I swear even the walls leaned in to listen.But it wasn’t just the room.It was me too.I was completely tuned into him.I stood still, trying not to stare, but failing miserably.Those black pants hugged his thighs too well. I was biting my lip but ofcourse he couldn’t see. I tilted my head, tracking him as he moved.No. I wasn’t tracking. I was digesting.I was digesting this tall, consuming man before me.His shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing sculpted arms that looked like they were carved for sin. And that hair—God—I wanted to tangle my fingers in it, just to see how he’d react.I shifted my weight
Roxy’s POVCatherine Bennette, my overbearing mother, and Rosie, my thorn-in-the-side twin, sat across from me at the breakfast table. Catherine was dressed in her usual prim attire, a pastel blouse neatly tucked into slacks. Her concern showed in the way she nervously folded and unfolded her napkin, her eyes darting toward me every few moments. Rosy, clad in her familiar denim jacket and plain tee, looked like she was bracing herself to play mediator in a battle that hadn’t yet begun—but we both knew it was coming. I sat there in a haze, pushing my eggs around on my plate without much enthusiasm, half-present, half-lost, my mind replayed scenes from yesterday—Aaron and I at Club Virgo, his firm grip on my wrist as he led me to his room. The vivid red walls—it takes a certain kind of man to choose that color. A man with fire steaming beneath the surface. Aaron had that fire; I could feel it come off him every second I spent close to him. Sarah had always said he was a good lover.
Roxy’s POV I dropped the file onto the table, standing with eager eyes. The entire place smelled like him—strong, masculine, with a whiff of something dark and forbidden. Of course, he owned it. Everything about this space screamed Aaron West. My legs moved on their own, leading me to the sleek brown shelving of his closet. I pulled it open, my head falling backwards as I inhale the scent that greets me, my fingers itched, trembling as I decided what to touch first. Stop! A voice inside me warned. But there was no way I was stopping now. I ran my fingers along the lineup of crisp shirts and suits, unable to resist the urge to pick out one. It was a deep gray shirt, just like his eyes. I brought it to my face, inhaling deeply, the scent of him filling my lungs, making my head spin. Something else caught my eye, and I carefully replaced the shirt. It was a journal, black and heavy. I lifted it, my fingers tracing its edges. What secrets could be hidden inside? I imagined him
Roxy’s POVI had made a big mistake. I called him by his first name. That was the one rule he had made clear—and I broke it.His eyes darkened, and for a moment, he looked truly scary. He leaned in closer, and his voice dropped.“I expect you to always be professional with me, Ms. Bennette. Just because we have an arrangement doesn’t mean you’re anything more than my employee. And I’m your boss. Do you understand, Ms. Bennette?”I swallowed hard. “Uh—yes, I understand, Mr. West,” I said quickly.“This is the first and the last time,” he said.“Yes, Mr. West,” I nodded.He leaned back again, putting just enough space between us to make me miss the closeness. I hated how his distance made me ache. He reached for his briefcase, and my eyes followed the movement instinctively.Stop staring, Roxy. Get it together.But my mind betrayed me, wandering to thoughts I shouldn’t be having—fantasies that didn’t belong in a room like this, with a man like him.What’s wrong with you, Roxy? I scolde
Roxy’s POV Stepping into the club—club Virgo—Austin had called it, my heart pounded like a drum. The dim lighting, the scent of expensive cigars, polished mahogany furniture, expensive perfumes. A real gentleman’s club—It smelled like power, secrets, and sin. As Aaron led me inside, I took in the place. Tall, dark wooden panels lined the walls, and the carpet underfoot was so thick it muffled the sound of our footsteps. Crystal chandeliers hung low, casting sparkling reflections that danced across the room like whispers of temptation. I caught sight of men laughing, cigars in hand, and women who looked like they belonged on magazine covers draped over the plush seats. My nerves tingled with every step, my skin prickling under the intense gaze of the other patrons. They knew who Aaron was—But they didn’t know me, and I felt their eyes on me, questioning, probing, wondering. “Hello, Mr. West,” a sultry voice broke through my thoughts. The front desk lady, stood as soon as she sa
Aaron’s POVWe arrived at Belvedere, and I found myself chatting with the concierge about getting us a table. It was all so last minute that I hadn't made a reservation, and Belvedere was strictly by reservation only. But, given that I was a regular, they were kind enough to bend the rules for me.“This way, sir,” the concierge said, leading us to our table. I turned to look at Ms. Bennette, whose eyes were wide with excitement as she took in the surroundings. There was something about that eager look in her eyes that I liked—young and full of life. When our eyes met, she quickly forced a smile and tried to compose herself, like she was trying to impress me or something. I couldn’t help but enjoy the way she followed behind me, almost like she was my little darling.We settled into a private area with a perfect view of the ocean. I always loved the ocean view, how the water moved, and the gentle waves that washed over the shore. It was calming, and in moments like this, my mind muddle
Roxy’s POV So I am right back at that night again. Lucas lies on the asphalt, his body crumpled and surrounded by a pool of dark, crimson blood. The car is gone, the black phantom that vanished into the night. My legs were shaking as I ran to him. A scream caught in my throat. His eyes… they trembled with a fear that split my heart in two. I dropped to my knees beside him. My hands were shaking as I pressed them to his wounds, desperate, useless. Trying to stop the bleeding. “Lucas, stay with me,” I begged, choking on my tears. “I don’t want to die, Ro-x,” he cried, voice wet with blood. I could see it—he was pleading. Silently begging for help I couldn’t give. I shook my head. Tears pouring. “No, no… you’re gonna be okay. Just stay with me.” But I didn’t believe it. Not for a second. The color in his eyes was fading. Then he reached for me. Clutched my shirt with the last of his strength, fingers digging in like he couldn’t hold on to life any longer. “Roxy…” He could
I stared out the window, my grip on the mug so tight I felt it might shatter. There he was again—the guy who picked her up that night, dropping her off again. Nick! She had called him, I felt stupid for even remembering the name. He was leaning in close, his eyes devouring her. The thought of him touching her, undressing her, twisted something deep inside me. What’s happening to me? Why am I reacting this way? I’ve seen plenty of women—more attractive, more experienced. Why should this naive college girl, my wife’s student, stir such a reaction?He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. The intent was clear; he wanted her in his bed. And she—she just sat there grinning like an innocent little brat.And all I could think about was last night. The way she looked standing at the door after helping my drunk wife out of the car. The way she looked at me— Like she knew. That I was fucking burning for her.Damn it.I hated how close he was t