LOGINKANE’S POV:
7 years, 5 months, and 1 week.
That’s how long I’ve lived with my heart broken into pieces, turned stone cold. All because of a girl I loved—no, a girl I was obsessed with.
What I felt for Anya wasn’t just love. It was deeper than that, darker. It was an obsession. Even as teens, I knew I’d do anything to make her happy. I wanted her to myself forever. But she crushed that dream in one clean stroke.
I remember it clearly—the night we spent together. It wasn’t just a night. It was the best night of my life. She was mine in every way, and I was convinced we had forever ahead of us. But the next morning, I woke up to nothing but a text.
“Sorry, Kane. I can’t be with you.”
No explanation. No apology. Just a cold, empty message that turned my world upside down.
Was I really that bad? Did I do something wrong? We dated for a year so did I mean so little to her that she couldn’t even look me in the eye and say it to my face? She left me with questions that haunted me for years, and not a single answer.
I told myself to move on and it was just highschool love. I tried. God knows I tried. But no matter how many girls I met in college or how many women threw themselves at me, she was always there lingering in the back of my mind.
I never thought I’d see her again until two years ago. My friend dragged me to a charity event, and there she was—her arm around a man, smiling ear to ear as she chatted with people.
My blood ran cold. The first question that crossed my mind was, Who was that man? Then I noticed the glinting ring on her left hand, and everything became clear.
Rage. That was all I felt.
I started watching her from a distance. I didn’t plan to, but I couldn’t help it. I saw her with Liam, the man she chose. She married him, settled down, and built a life. She looked happy, as if I had never existed.
And me? I was left with my questions and my anger, brewing into something I couldn’t ignore.
Rage. I hadn’t felt it in so long, but one look at her happy face brought it all back.
I knew I wanted to ruin it. All of it.
She belonged with me, not him. She needed to pay for breaking my heart. She needed to explain why all I got was a text.
That brings us to now.
Sitting in the private room of my club, I nursed a glass of whiskey, scrolling through potential property investments on my phone. The door opened, and in walked Liam Ross, led by my bodyguard.
He wore his usual grin, looking every bit the polished businessman. But I wasn’t in the mood for smiles, in fact the smile annoyed me.
“Mr. Ross,” I said, not bothering to stand. “You didn’t have to come all the way here. A bank transfer would have done the job.”
His grin didn’t falter. “I wanted to discuss the money with you.”
I leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t have it.”
The chuckle escaped me before I could stop it. “Is that so?” I set my glass down, my amusement growing. “And what exactly do we do about that, Mr. Ross?”
He leaned forward, his tone shifting to one of negotiation. “I’m willing to offer you something else in exchange for clearing half the debt.” he continued, waiting eagerly to see if I'd bite whatever bait he was throwing in my sea.
I tilted my head, intrigued. “Half the debt? That’s $250 million. What could you possibly have that’s worth that much?”
“If I remember correctly your company is inches close to filing for bankruptcy, no investor and no backup plan. Let's quit the chit chat Mr Ross, I want my money”
He hesitated, and for a moment, I thought he’d come to his senses. But then he spoke the words that froze me in place.
“My wife.”
The room went silent.
“Excuse me?” I asked, my voice cold as steel.
“You can have my wife,” he repeated. “One week. Do whatever you want with her, and in exchange, you clear half my debt.”
I stared at him, rage bubbling within me. Who the fuck gives off their wife like a piece of property?
“Mr. Ross,” I said, my tone dangerously low, “is your wife that good? Because from where I’m sitting, this sounds less like a negotiation and more like a goddamn insult.”
He didn’t flinch. Instead, he pulled out his phone, scrolling to a photo. “She’s beautiful, talented, and obedient. I’m sure you’ll find her… satisfactory.”
My jaw clenched. My anger mixed with something else—a twisted, vengeful satisfaction. The man who had what I’d always wanted was now offering it to me on a silver platter.
“Tell me, Mr. Ross,” I said, rising from my seat. “Does your wife know about this little arrangement of yours? Or are you planning to sell her off without her consent?”
“She’ll do what I tell her. She knows what’s at stake.” he replied sounding extremely confident
I stepped closer, towering over him. “I’ll accept your offer,” I said, the words tasting like poison. “But let me make one thing clear—this isn’t for you. It’s for me. And when this is over, you’ll wish you had paid my money instead.”
I didn't expect things would play out like this. Liam would think he’d made a deal. He would think he had control. But the reality was, I had all the control. For the next week, she was mine. To do with as I pleased.
I wanted to see how far she’d fallen. How much she’d changed. How much she’d be willing to endure. I wanted to break her, to remind her what she’d lost when she left me.
Anya thought she was safe, though she was still the queen in her little world. But what she didn’t know was that I was the one holding all the cards now. She was going to pay for leaving me. And when I was done, she would never look at Liam the same way again. She’d remember who she really belonged to.
I had been informed that she had arrived at my penthouse and settled in by Cassie. But I was going to give her tonight to digest everything. Tomorrow the fun begins
I couldn't contain my excitement. Hell, I barely slept returning to the penthouse very early in the morning so I had time to lay everything out to her and tell her what her little husband had done. Watching her as she entered the dining room, looking so damn beautiful yet so naive. She had no idea what I was about to do to her. But that would make it all the sweeter.
Her shock when she saw me—priceless. She had no clue why I was here. No clue why she was in my penthouse.
But she’d learn soon enough.
ANYA’S POVI was fucking sober now.The wine had burned out of my system, leaving behind a dull ache behind my eyes and a tightness in my chest that had nothing to do with alcohol. The kind of tightness that showed up when the truth was sitting in the room and refused to leave.Kane’s question still lingers between us.“Why did you break up with me back in high school?”I didn't answer immediately.The night presses against the glass windows behind him, city lights fractured into thin reflections. I focused on that instead of his face. My hands clasped in my lap, fingers woven so tightly that my knuckles turned pale.He waits.I inhale slowly. The air feels heavier than it should.“My mom got sick.” I finally saidThere it is. Out in the open.Something shifts in him instantly, it wasn't dramatic, just a tightening of his shoulders. A stillness.“Sick how?”“Really sick and we didn’t know why” I replied. My voice sounds steady. I don’t know how. “It happened fast. One minute she was j
KANE’S POVI shouldn’t have come here.That was the first thought that hit me as I stood outside her door. I had done everything I could to avoid her, to pretend she still didn't get to me. When Rita told me Anya was waiting in my private reception, I could have ended the meeting and gone to her. But I didn’t. I wanted her to understand what it felt like to wait, to long for something, the same way I’d been longing for her without even realizing it.I’d told myself this visit was about business, about the debt Liam left behind, about the call I’d ignored but the truth was, I couldn’t get her voice out of my head since I hung up. Avoiding her had been harder than I ever wanted to admit. And somewhere between pushing her away and pretending not to care, I’d come to realize something terrifyingly simple,I was in love with her.Then she opened the door.Towel. Wet hair. Skin still glistening with drops of water.For a man who prided himself on control, I forgot what that even meant in tha
I stumbled down the stairs, clutching my towel. My head was spinning, and I wasn’t sure if it was from standing up too fast or from the wine. Muttering a curse under my breath at whoever dared disturb me, I reached the door and yanked it open.And froze.Kane stood there in all black. His shirt hung open at the top, three buttons undone. Sleeves rolled up, arms crossed, his whole body screamed calm danger. His face was unreadable, and for a moment I blinked, wondering if I was drunk enough to be seeing things.“Well, if it isn’t his majesty,” I slurred, leaning against the doorframe. “What are you doing here? I thought you were busy.”“What are you doing?” His voice was sharp. “I’ve been at your door for a while. And why are you…” He stopped. His eyes moved down my body and back up again, slow and heavy, like he was peeling me apart layer by layer.When his gaze finally met mine, he frowned. Without another word, he pushed me back gently and stepped inside, shutting the door behind hi
The waiting room at M Enterprises felt too quiet, too perfect. The tea the receptionist had offered me was long gone, but the nerves in my stomach remained.I didn’t even have an appointment, but she had kindly let me wait while she informed Kane that I was here. That was over two hours ago.I sat on the edge of the chair, fingers twisting in my lap until they ached. My palms were damp, but I refused to wipe them on my skirt and looked even more nervous. My heart thudded so loud it almost drowned out the soft clicking of the receptionist’s keyboard.I had tried calling him for days now and even called him all morning, but he hadn’t answered. He was probably still angry with me.It had been a week since we last spoke. Tara had stayed with me for two days, and in those two days we had hatched a plan — a messy plan, one I wasn’t ready to follow but had no choice. It was either that, or keep living with an invisible chain around my neck.I smoothed my blouse for the tenth time, though the
ANYA'S POVI had just finished wiping down the last counter, the sharp-sweet scent of the new candles drifting through the air. The weekend couldn’t come soon enough. Since Liam’s death, I’d told Rose to take a break, so the house had been entirely in my hands, every surface polished, every dish prepared, every corner waiting for Tara’s arrival.She’d called me yesterday, saying she would be flying in from Boston early in the morning and would be staying over for two days before leaving. And I’d gone all out, carefully preparing her favorite dishes, pouring my heart into each one and silently praying she’d love them. But little worries eat at me. Would Tara like the flowers I’d picked up this morning? Was the living room arranged just right, or should I move the long white couch closer to the floor-to-ceiling window so she could enjoy the view of the flower beds outside? And what about the candles—would the vanilla and jasmine scent feel welcoming, or overwhelming?The doorbell rang,
ANYA’S POVThe smell of frying eggs filled the kitchen, mixing with the soft crackle of the pan. I shuffled around the counter in my slippers, flipping bread in the toaster while muttering every insult I could think of under my breath.Kane was still upstairs, probably taking his sweet time in the shower like he owned the place.I still couldn’t believe I was making him breakfast. After I took care of him, let him sleep in my bed, use my bathroom… and now this ungrateful man? The nerve.I stabbed at the eggs a little harder than necessary, the spatula scraping against the pan.“Idiot,” I mumbled. “Arrogant, overconfident, shirtless disaster.”The coffee machine beeped, steam curling into the air. I poured two mugs, setting them on the table beside plates of eggs and toast. I stared at the coffee, fighting the urge to ‘accidentally’ spit in his — or maybe just splash a little on his lap when he comes. Nothing serious.The thought made me smirk.But no. I was a civilized woman. I could







