LOGIN"You know I can't talk while you're here", he says. His voice is rough, dangerous and hungry. I swallow, my throat dry. But I don't look away. "Why?" I ask, my fingers trace his jaw, trembling. "I'll be good. Promise". A dark laugh rumbles through his chest. "I don't want good", he says, voice rough. "I want you screaming my name… just not here. Not in front of the president and the damn press". His control slips as he buries his face in my neck. His lips burn where they touch. "Christ", he mutters. "What are you doing to me? I have a speech to deliver. But I can't even remember the first line. I swear I know it, but…" "You're a dirty bastard", I whisper, breathless. "Yours", he says, his teeth grazing my earlobe. "So… what do I tell the president?" –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Aneeka's messy divorce leaves her heartbroken. With her inheritance on the line, outwitting her cheating ex should be her only goal. But fate has other ideas. Just 24 hours after the divorce, she unexpectedly marries Derek Simon, the country's most eligible bachelor. What starts as a wild, prove a point kiss explodes into an undeniable, all consuming passion. The pull between them is real, hot, and impossible to ignore. Is this her second chance at love? Or a disaster waiting to happen?
View MoreAneeka's life was falling apart right before her eyes.
Her husband, Damon, had always been cold and distant, even in public. But today was worse—he wore his hatred for her on his sleeve. His eyes held nothing but irritation before moving on to the champagne, the guests, and Lily.
It was her best friend Lorraine's wedding to her high school sweetheart. The celebration was in full swing, filled with laughter and joy. But inside, Aneeka felt empty. The happiness around her only made it worse. She was suffocating.
Lorraine glowed in her pristine white lace, clinging to her husband, Damon's brother. Four years ago, that had been her, staring at Damon like he was her whole world. Her hands had shaken as she'd fixed his tie that morning, and he'd smiled at her like she was important.
Today was their anniversary, but Damon, in his usual fashion, hadn't remembered—or he just didn't care. He'd been glued to Lily all day. He'd left her at home early to "help" with the wedding. He'd played driver, therapist, and hypeman to Lily.
Lily worked at the firm with him and his brother as a secretary. She was everything Aneeka wasn't—confident, loud, bold, and unafraid to take up space.
The first time he'd mentioned her was over dinner three months ago. His eyes had lit up when he talked about the brilliant new employee they'd hired. His eyes had never lit up when he talked to her or about her.
"Perfect!" Scott, Damon's best friend, shouted in a rather too-loud voice, sloshing whiskey from his glass.
Aneeka scanned the room, searching for Damon. She spotted him laughing with Lily, and her heart dropped, but she knew better than to interrupt them.
She slipped into a chair behind them and rolled her eyes at the sound of their voices. They were annoyingly loud.
He was all smiles, calling Lily "gorgeous" and "perfect" while she giggled like a child on crack. Aneeka felt her head spin at each word of praise. Her thoughts drifted to the bruise on her back from where he'd hit her when she'd asked him to have dinner with her. He'd shoved her into the kitchen counter so hard the air was knocked from her lungs.
Scott tapped her on the shoulder, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. "What's Damon's favorite color?" he asked in a voice that suggested he'd had too much to drink.
"I… I… I don't know," she mumbled as her face turned red from the humiliation.
"It's white," Lily's shrill voice came through. "Right, D?"
Aneeka's stomach twisted. Damon hated white. He'd never even worn it in the years they'd been together. He hated it so much he'd had his white car sprayed a bloody red. She'd never used a pet name on him either. Hearing Lily do it made her sick.
It sounded stupid, but it still stung. She'd never dared call him any nickname, and if he'd had his way, she would've called him master. He'd scolded her in a sharp tone that made her feel like a child the first time she'd called him by a pet name.
"Call me Damon. We're not children," he'd said.
Before she could respond, Lorraine appeared beside her and whispered, "Come inside."
Aneeka let Lorraine lead her away as Lily's voice chased after her. "It's so sad, D. How did you even say yes to her?"
The couple had rented a massive condo and sealed off the largest room for the afterparty sleepover. Joy, her second-best friend, was in this room, pacing and destroying the setup that had taken them hours to put together. They hung back at the door because an angry Joy was dangerous.
She brushed past them and stormed into the kitchen as Lorraine led Aneeka to a couch, where she collapsed in exhaustion. The dam broke, and the tears she'd been holding in all day poured out as she stared into space.
Joy returned with a damp cloth and painkillers. She dropped down beside Aneeka and eyed her suspiciously. "Show me."
"What… what are you talking about?"
Joy's fists were clenched so tight, Aneeka was scared she'd hurt herself. "Aneeka, I'm in no mood for jokes tonight. Show me right now, or you'll regret it."
Aneeka knew she wasn't bluffing. She lifted her dress to reveal her battered back.
"You have to leave him. Now," Joy whispered in a broken voice.
Aneeka winced as Joy deliberately pressed the damp cloth over the bruises on her back. It hurt like hell. "It's not that bad," she whispered.
Joy's face darkened. "I swear to God, he's going to kill you," she spat.
Aneeka's once-smooth and unblemished back was covered in angry purple marks, fresh from last night. One especially vicious mark swirled like a dark galaxy across her ribs from where the counter edge had caught her. It was bad.
"What's going to happen now?" Joy asked calmly, despite herself.
"I don't know… I'll be more careful around him, especially with my big mouth," she murmured, defending him like always.
Joy and Lorraine exchanged knowing glances. No matter how much anyone tried to help her, Aneeka refused to leave Damon. She'd defended his actions for years, convincing herself that she deserved it all.
She'd struggled with her weight all her life and had always been the one without a date or a boyfriend. When Damon had approached her that day in high school to ask for directions, she'd vowed never to let him go. She gave him everything he could only ever dream of. And when she couldn't afford it, she stole.
So despite how much he detested her and made her feel like shit, she stayed.
"Let's help you," Lorraine said firmly. "It's the last time we're offering."
Aneeka shook her head, unable to speak.
Joy sank down beside her, frustrated and angry. "You know you could make him pay, right?"
Aneeka's body shook violently. "I can't. I won't." The thought of hurting Damon paralyzed her. "It'll be okay."
Joy held her hands, examining her ring. "At least you should have worn the new one. I like it better than this… band-aid."
Aneeka looked at her, confused. "What are you talking about?"
Joy owned the biggest diamond store in LA, and Damon had come in the previous week to buy the largest diamond-cut ring she had. She'd put her soul into the selection process, despite her hatred for him, and she'd looked forward to seeing it on Aneeka's finger. She hated the barely visible, tiny diamond he'd insisted Aneeka wear as a wedding band.
They looked at each other in confusion. Then they heard running footsteps outside, followed by Damon's loud laughter and the unmistakable sound of applause.
Aneeka’s povI blink. Please, tell me I didn't hear that."A whore? Really?" My voice shakes."That's right", he says cold and flat.But why does he look like he's in pain when he says it?I swallow hard. "Bastard". The silence stretches. Even Saint shifts behind me, and I catch him giving Derek a look I can't read. Like they've talked about this before."What?" Derek growls, and I feel every hair on my skin rise.Shit. He heard me.Of course he did. I'm probably saying my thoughts out loud. My mouth won't stop moving when I'm scared."I did. Loud and clear, Layla".But there's something in his voice. Something that doesn't match the cruel words. His hands are clenched at his sides, knuckles white.I step back. He doesn't sound or look human right now. Not even close. Years with Damon taught me to always take a step back and get ready to run. But Saint is standing behind me like a freaking wall.I glare at Saint. My best I will end you stare.He doesn't even blink.Right. Derek said
Derek's povDamon took over an hour to clean up. Did I stop him? Hell no. If he had asked for another hour, I would have handed him a loofah and bleach.The man smelled terrible. Really, really terrible. I was not going to spend the whole car ride with my head hanging out the window like a dog.When he finally came out, I wished I was blind.He wore another designer disaster. Maybe Gucci? I couldn't tell. The pattern looked familiar, but God forbid I knew exactly what it was.I didn't catch where he said we were going. I didn't care either.The red laser dots on his chest and Saint's gun pressed against his head said everything.I had hoped he wouldn't talk. I was ready to silence him forever.But he sang like a goddamn canary on crack.I heard six names, maybe ten addresses. Even office addresses of friends and families of Mr. Reddington.The driver followed Damon's directions. His life depended on it. We made it in thirty minutes.Perfect.The driver avoided the main roads and stuck
Derek’s povDamon is the worst. Like, really really bad.He's garbage, the kind even seagulls avoid. A walking biohazard in Burberry, pink shorts, and a sleep mask pushed up on his forehead, like he’s relaxing at a goddamn spa.And yet, somehow… she chose him.Am I losing it? Yes. Yes, I am.Layla could've had anyone. Anyone at all. And she chose this? Him? What part of her thought he was a good idea? And why?I stare at Damon's sleeping form, and I realize… I don't want answers to any of it. Not about him or why. I don't even want it to make sense. It'll hurt less if I just don't know.The woman next to him stirs. She looks around, then lets out a scream like her lungs are on fire. If someone taught her, she could probably shatter my skull with that.What is she, a fucking banshee?"Shut the fuck up", Damon mumbles into his pillow, still half-asleep.She shakes him hard. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her down toward his crotch. "Suck it, bitch", he slurs, totally unaware of the
Derek’s povAneeka Smith.I rented the whole restaurant. Not just any place, but a Michelin-starred one. I planned everything to be perfect.Champagne by the water. Her favorite violinist on the balcony. Even those chocolate-covered strawberries she swears she hates… but ate every time.Then that damn package showed up. Addressed to Aneeka Smith.The name stared at me from the box handed over. And just like that… everything fell apart.Layla opened the door, still adjusting her earring, her radiant smile lit up her whole face. My chest tightened."You make me distracted", I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "And kind of dumb". Her eyebrows shot up. "In a good way", I quickly added. "No… an amazing way".Her laughter echoed through the room, light and musical. It was perfect. Just perfect.That emerald dress, with its perfect slit teasing just above her left thigh, left no room for coherent thought. The fabric clung like it was painted on, making it impossible






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